Mind Games [Behemoth and Millie]

[Tearen Wover]

Best taken with a nice glass of terror.

Millie's door would seem to shrink away from Behemoth as the thrall pushed its way between Behemoth and the girl's thoughts. Millie's memories all seemed to darken and ripple away, like ephemeral reflections in a dank pond. What replaced them was...vast. It was the perspective of a god, looking down into a universe. All the stars, all the nebulae and all the planets whirled in patterns that etched themselves on Behemoth's eyes. Obviously, the only reason he was seeing any of this was because the thrall was letting him. No words came to the snake-eyed pirate, only visions and memories that passed by Behemoth, as if he was the passenger on some invisible train.

...As the sanguine finger traced lightly across Nealaphh's suited shoulders, the material beneath them would smolder, not by the goddess's power, but his own. It was not an aggressive show of force, but merely a message: I am not like others you may come to find in this world. Nealaphh's head would rotate all the way around his neck, following the ghostly woman, never breaking his gaze upon her delicate yet untamed face. A tinge of regret shot through Nealaphh's eternal mind, regretting he hadn't nipped this one in the bud, back when she was a mere immortal. Still, it was she who would give him direction now, so it was not as if she would have to try to hard to ploy for his service. Still...

"If I might be so bold, milady, I also know, all too well, of the end of things. Everything dies. Everything. And when this entire reality's time comes to fold into naught, I will be there to make sure it does." Nealaphh said, his voice becoming immersed in echo as his body dissolved into a flock of bright yellow butterflies. The would flutter around Pandora's form, now circling her. It would be known that, while Nealaphh was indeed a volunteer for her direction, he would not be so easily forced beneath her elegant yet domineering heel.

This scene faded away, the smooth wood of what appeared to be a bar transitioning into a dark and gloomy chapel of some sorts. The entire scene seemed to pulse with a subsonic rumble, and the wan light that filtered through the stained glass windows through a sharp contrast on the outline of a slavic looking woman with ragged black hair, dressed in thin rags. Before her floated a black gem of some kind, about the size of a football...

"Deception is the key to power. Keep the full extent of your abilities hidden when possible; there may be people who can sense your true nature via magic, but if you give them no reason to suspect you, then you will have an easier time manipulating them." Nealaphh said softly.

"Also, I would work on developing a core set of memorized and practiced spells to start with. Nothing big or flashy, but basic things that can be used together to great effect."

Ilyana nodded. She wondered what sort of spells she should start with. She almost asked, but she felt as if she was being pushy to begin with. Perhaps it was best to go practice somewhere she couldn’t hurt anyone. “Thank you,” she nodded. “I… You’ve always been so nice.”

"There are many ways to manipulate people." Nealaphh said curtly. He revolved once on his center axis and vanished with a small chiming noise, leaving the hall empty, save for the newly christened Aspect of Cruelty, Nileeta.

Finally, the scene shifted to one last location. It was some sort of ancient amphitheater, under the dim light of a clouded night. A lone figure dressed in a brown, hooded robe stood still, while another man stood not too far off, bedecked in red leather armor, his hair a shock white crown of tousled locks...

..."I had no intention of doing so." Nealaphh said softly. With smooth, liquid movements, he walked around the large arcane circle, tapping a particular glyph on each column with the tip of the sword. When he did so, the lines would ignite with bright flames that began creeping slowly towards the enwrapped creature at the center of the circle. By the time he returned to the start, the blanketed horror was wreathed in flames, which reached high into the night air. All at once, the creature would seem to break free of its binding sheet. It was a pitiful sight...what had obviously once been a young woman was now a scaly wretch, with large prehensile pseudopods slither around on her bare, greenish back. Her eyes were no more, as empty sockets screamed louder than the horrible, insectoid maw. Sensing Nealaphh at the far end of the corner, she sprinted at him full tilt, shredding claws outstretched, and still most certainly on fire. When she moved, however, the fiery arcane circle now moved with her, whipping through the air as if pried away from it's second dimension.

Nealaphh stood calmly as the creature grew closer, when all at once, when she was within a scant two feet of him, he drove the enchanted scimitar through her forehead with a lightning fast jab. There was a pause before the magical lines all collapsed on the creature with a resounding crack, causing spidery cracks to spider across the top of the ruins. The writhing creature now rose into the air, twitching and screaming loudly as her body was immolated by the wracking flames. When she was almost twenty feet of the ground, the light had consumed her completely, and the screaming had ceased...yet the orb of light continued to rise into the sky. It burned its way through the clouds, scattering the local cloud cover to reveal the slivered moon and the star Vega glimmering overhead.

All was silent.

After this, the memories faded, replaced once more by the black starry vault which whirled in endless ecstasy. Then, in the middle of the void, a single large, burning eye opened itself, as if the dark vault of the void itself was its eyelid. It stared into Behemoth's eyes, bathing him in a violent orange light which pulsed and strobed, almost in a hypnotic pattern of flashes. The voice of the thrall came to Behemoth, implicit within this place it owned.

You are...intriguing. But ultimately inconsequential.

After all, secondary, why do you exist?

You exist because a prime willed it so.

You exist at the behest of another's whim.

You are not natural.

You are not sovereign.

You are a fleshy automaton.

Moving through an equally ersatz universe.

Deep down.

You know this.

Deep down.

You know none of this is real.

So why bother?

You seek...redemption?

You seek...vengeance?

On what?

Shadows?

Mirages?

Are you the master or the puppet?

A child in a fantasy land.

Perhaps even...a fool?

...

There came a silence, and the only sound was Behemoth's seething anger. Within this mental world, it bled from the decrepit man's form like molten blood, twisting and dripping off aimlessly into Millie's mind. Behemoth watched as the gooey orbs of fury began to cling to random memories the girl owned, however indistinct they are. What associations might be made with those sentimentalities now, he wondered? But he couldn't lose his focus. The thrall was much too good at this kind of game to leave even a small lapse in awareness unused. When Behemoth turned back to face his accuser, sure enough, the eyeball was gone, now replaced with...something.

A mass of gills, feelers, eyes, and hook. Terrible flesh rending hooks that stretched out and threatened to tear great gashes in Behemoth's consciousness. An abomination that had no business being described in detail. It was massive, equally as large as the very universe it betrayed. Suddenly, all around him, there was a wall of formless death screaming and giggling at him. Every direction was a sickly, gleaming mound of warped flesh that desired nothing more than his destruction. All at once, the splashing, flopping barrier began to close in, a million red-green eyes staring at him in hunger. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere. How could he escape back into the safety of his own mind? Just then, there came a small voice.

"Hey!"

Behemoth whipped around for the source, but couldn't spot it in the encroaching darkness.

"Hey! Weirdo!"

The aging pirate again turned around, and this time, he spotted a beacon of light. It was the door, the door that Millie was hiding behind. It was cracked open, a brilliant white light spilling through. The girl was peeking through, calling Behemoth to her with a waving hand.

"C'mon already!"

There was no point in hesitating. Behemoth flew into the portal, and Millie slammed the door shut just as the thrall-mind slammed up against it, screeching in a primordial fury that its otherwise extremely composed manner of speech did not immediately belie. But now Behemoth was even deeper within Millie's mind than before, and he could not escape without going back through that door, where the thrall mind was waiting. All around him danced...thoughts...impulses. Darkness mixed with light. Fetishes, secret hatreds, terrible shame, deep longings and grudges. But there was also...love of dancing...the beach...an untapped brilliance that was suppressed by a society that told Millie she was just a pretty face.

...murder...

And there in the middle of this beach, where a red sky brooded overhead and the tide washed up shapeless fears and phobias, Millie sat on the middle of the beach, looking out on the horizon. The sun was not a brilliant ball of flame, but a luminescent angelic figure, with elderly features and a kind face.

...nana...

She did not turn to look at Behemoth. The shame was too great. It bled off of her in smoking trails of black vapor, which coalesced and rose into the sky, forming dark thunderclouds in the shape of sailing ships. Sand sculptures littered the beach; twisted humanoid figures twisted in the throes of deviant, debasing acts of lustful passion. Further up the shore lay an idyllic neighborhood of Cost del Sol, her childhood home. Her first house, a lone ray of sunlight cast down upon it, glimmering with the promise of sanctity and safety. Great, oversized kites hung in the windless sky, each in the shape of a secret promise or childhood dream.

When Millie spoke, the entire inner realm of her mind vibrated with her power. Truly, this was her own verse within her mind. Behemoth knew he would have to be very careful here...even the slightest stray thought or emotion could be manifested and ingrained into the deepest recesses of her psyche.

"I don't know who you are. I...believe you're trying to help." she whispered loudly.

Gay ass pirate. Kidnapper. Rapist?
Why Omni? Why me?
Stranger danger.
Snake eyed mofo.

"Do you know what's out there? I can...feel pieces of my brain just kinda..." she whispered again, picking up a handful of sand and just letting it fall through the cracks in her fist. I burst into flame when it hit the ground.


OHGODIMGOINGTODIE.

"...yeah..."
LOL
Shoulda shot your ass. Just wanted to see a movie... Is my forehead gonna scar?

"Is there anything you can actually do?"

She turned to look at him. Her face...her face had no mouth, and both of her eyes glowed green. A third eye was burning a hole in her face just below her right ocular.

CAN YOU EVEN STEP UP, CAPTAIN HOOK?