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The simple green wall of her bedroom never looked so fascinating. If she looked closely enough, she'd see multitudes of tiny bumps on the deceptively smooth looking wall. There too, were droplets of paint that mayhaps had dribbled from the uppermost crannies or from the painter's brush, dried up like a cascading rivulets of apple green syrup.
Why am I regarding the wall again? She asked herself, turning to lie flat on her bed as she regarded the ceiling with a mix of curiosity and indifference. Perhaps it was her mind, tired after processing so many things over the past week, that decided to occupy itself with something that didn't require so much thinking. Trivial thinking. Senseless thinking. But then again, what was trivial with describing paint as syrup?
Her mind didn't grace her with an answer.
How long had I been at this again? ... Her mind couldn't muster the strength to answer that too. Perhaps some sleep was indeed in order. Everyone was badgering that she should be getting more of it.
It's not like I can work or do anything else with this lethargy. She thought to herself. Letting out a breath, the young woman made herself comfortable, sinking into the comforts of her down pillows and the soft feel of the cotton bedsheet underneath her. The weather was getting hotter as of late, something she really disliked but at least she had reason to wear skimpier nightwear in an attempt to keep cool.
A dull buzzing bore through her head, and as she closed her eyes, she willed any images away from her mind's eye. She needed rest, and dreamless sleep was most preferred. Ah, perhaps if someone could contribute to some physical comforting gestures, she'd fall asleep faster.
Just as the thought completed itself, a hand petted her hair, gently as a lover would. It made her smile. Well at least Azzy is wont to give this once in a while. She thought. Sometimes she felt guilty for the things she put him through. Then again, Azzy was Azzy. She couldn't expect him to stop for his own sake.
But the chuckle that reached her ears immediately made her heart freeze. It wasn't the baritone that she knew by heart.
In a blink of an eye, she was up. Never mind how she miraculously did not topple from her bed, all that she could think of was how to get away from the man who was suddenly on her bed.
Why?
Was the only word she could think of as she regarded the deceptively angelic young man playing absentmindedly with a curly lock of snowy hair, sitting atop the bed near the spot she had been lying in but a moment ago.
He was always dressed in pristine white, coupled with that gentle and fair face, it was as if he symbolized all that was pure in the world. Right now, he was not in the usual robes she was used to seeing, but one of a sleeveless, white swallow tailed coat and detached sleeves, decorated with a touch of crimson ruffles and an ascot.
A pillow clasped close to her chest, she could feel the rapid beating of her heart against her ribcage. Though her expression remained calm, her thoughts were sent into a frenzy.
What was he doing here? How did he get in? Did he kill someone again? One quick look over his languidly stretched form confirmed no bloodstains. At least, she didn't need to change the bedsheets tonight. Goodness knows she would have probably left it as it is and slept in it or on the floor.
But more importantly, where was Azzy? Didn't he know that the man was here?
The man suddenly looked up from his reverie, two carmine orbs piercing her very soul with its subtle intensity. His lips moved enticingly as he spoke two words, softly and with only a mere hint of that smile. "Memento mori."
Memento Mori. Did he come all this way just to tell her that?
"... How could you be here? I thought Azzy kept you at bay." It took a moment before she found her voice. It bespoke of her exhaustion and the detachment she had placed herself in. Protection. Solitude. It was a double-edged defense but one that was deemed a lesser evil.
"Azzy can't keep away something that isn't alien." The young man said matter-of-factly. He rolled onto his belly, onto the middle of the bed -she belatedly realized he didn't have his shoes on-, and snuggled his face into her other pillow.
"You're tired. Why don't you come here and sit down?" He asked gently, his muffled voice cool and lilting. However, she remained rigid in her spot, refusing to even inch closer. There was simply no way in heaven or hell that she would relent to sitting near him of her own accord. Moments flew by, and when he heard and felt no response, he lifted his head.
There was no smile on his face, but it didn't make him any less dangerous than she knew he was. "I'm not here to end you, since that is your worry..." He paused, seemingly thinking of something before continuing, "Well, one of your worries. This is terribly unfounded at the moment."
"Why are you here?" She was tempted to call for help. Though against a powerful killer and a lunatic, they would be useless save for becoming additions to his growing collection of slaughtered dreams. She shivered. No, she didn't want that. He'd already had taken his fair share of the ones she wasn't aware of and therefore, wasn't able to save.
"Curt as always." He spoke, though he didn't expect a remark at all. The man sat up on the edge of the bed, facing her as he continued, "Why, I was simply checking in on you after such a tedious and mind grueling expanse of time has passed. Never hurt to talk for a while in a lull, would it?" The girl merely listened to him, speaking not a word in reply.
He chuckled, licking his lips before continuing, "Talks and rumours of change has been getting more and more rampant, hasn't it? And even some added burden of more personal matters makes things seem all the more tiring, am I not correct?"
"Humans are such fickle-minded, selfish bastards aren't they? Even if they mean well... well not everyone sees it that way, do they?"
"They let fear and despair rule them. Possess them. Guide their thoughts and actions such that they become cowards, perhaps not in the eyes of others, but of themselves. The thought of the end so near at hand just makes them flounder about even more, seeking ways to survive or even to pray to whatever God they have so little faith in." He chuckled at some inside joke before shaking his head.
"Fickle-minded as I've said." And he flicked at some invisible thing as if it irritated him. With each word, his voice began to take on a more enthusiastic turn, reveling in the notions and images that they wrought.
"Memento Mori." He repeated the word. "It seems people have forgotten this little bit of reality. I'd beg to differ to their grand ideas of living beyond the destined time. Much as I enjoy watching with the intricate workings of human lives, I would love to see destruction play out at World's End. The world isn't going to end with a whimper. Oh no. It is simply too rotten and beautiful to have such a meek exit."
"Heaven and Earth will be the audience, and so too will be the actors on this stage. A chorus of sounds so disentangled and yet harmonious at the same time. Ironies of irony will play out as the red curtain falls. Blood and tears will stain the foundation, but only because this is how the finale is written to be. Can you not see it, dearest?"
She didn't answer. Her mind created images in her head from his words, yet she would not grant him a single sound in response. If he was egging to get her to respond, and indeed she was convinced that was the goal of this sudden visit, she would rather remain in silence and be subjected to whatever tortures he might have in mind for her stubborness.
"You can't save everyone. Remember that."
In a blink of an eye, she felt herself being lifted off from her spot. A scream began to rise in her throat, though it caught in her throat when he unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. "And never say that I never cared for what happens to myself."
She choked, hoping at least the exaggeration was a good enough insult to his deed. "You're not me." No torture tonight. She must be fortunate he wasn't in the mood to kill.
He simply laughed at her remark. "Of course. But you're only half-right." He petted her hair one last time, before he suddenly disappeared. Not one thing remained that spoke of him being there, save for the ruffled young woman who stared at the spot he was last in.
"......." Letting out a sigh, she flipped herself onto her back, covering her eyes with an arm as she forced everything to the back of her mind. She needed sleep now more than ever. But one thought lingered before ultimately following the rest into darkness.
LeRoux's core existence confused her even until now.
END ENTRY.
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