Mind Games [Behemoth and Millie]

[Gildarts]

Behemoth had faced his demons many times before and the same haunting chill of doubt began to lash at his mind, leaving only blurred scars in its wake. His eyes winced as he took another blow. It fluttered by like the zoom of a bullet. His opaque defenses wavered.

It was so, that in the mind of another when mental fortitude was not applied with ample strength, the ultimate consequence - destruction of the self - could be dealt with the swift motion of an effortless backhand.

The thrall had not taken so transparent of a shape and to senselessly fight an intangible enemy was not something the feeble Behemoth was willing to do. Yet the man was cornered and his thoughts beckoned at an incline.

Choices, choices...

The tantalizing battle in his mind ensued. There was no light in the darkness to chase the thoughts away. So tempting were the demons that Behemoth mistook one for the shade that oh so challenged him with power-fueled words, descending with grave consequence.

"At least I gave her a place to live."

His eye twitched with menace as his uncontrolled thoughts spoke loudly to the thrall, "Existing isn't living. You of all lifeless creatures should know that. Hypocritical. Trapped within a cage, breaking, broken, waiting to diminish and be gone with the tide of time.. Yet your mind has different plans for you, even when you can't acknowledge your own purpose of life. Tock, ticking, it ebbs on leaving you to remain only as you are in the silence. How is that cage you placed her in? Perhaps, to keep it interesting you will rattle it a few times. To see and savor the pain or dashes of fear littering her expression. The utter futility of it all. People will never cease to be your toy," Behemoth spoke these words from experience, making his irony an undesired truth, he only neglected that monsters and demons didn't listen to reason, it was not that they didn't know of it, it was that they didn't care.

"Meanwhile, the games, the trinkets, the toys; each leads to the inescapable hell of consumed madness. Until finally, one day, they are lost with their own willowed thoughts and can no longer be saved. Their core, their being, their life, damned never to be whole again. The mind is such an intriguing thing and yet you have only half of what it takes to-"

TTCH!

Behemoth's sneering words were bitten by the tearing of his unzipped flesh. A large laceration had streaked across his chest and of it, that soon followed the invisible scythe came the slow, soft drool of his crimson blood.

The thrall observed the way the man's internal thoughts were eating him alive, pain transcended the narrow cringing slits of the snake charmer's eyes, meanwhile the thrall matched the Behemoth's gaze with the fiery green embers of his own.

It seemed, the vanquished shell of a man was not so bold that he could stand holding his own tongue, and the consuming weakness had manifested into a strange form of physical damage. "It seems all humans have flaws." The creature spoke with finality, as though the thrall was convinced these weaknesses would cause Behemoth's demise; all the while, the shade remained impenetrable. The taste of the creature's smile descended in the room far before it could be seen. It domineered with the strength of wordless action. Just give up.

At the mention of his daughter, Behemoth was lit with the flames of anger, yet cooled by the mental stillness of his own revolution. It took the shape of of ice and firmly strengthened his bones. With his ferocity numbed the thrashing disarray of his mind was immediately quelled. His body steadied as it all crystallized around him. He realized, He was fighting for her.

Behemoth's eyes lingered up to face who he was fighting, he had yet to meet the reflection of his own mirrored body. His own venomous eyes.

It seemed superstition had stilled the air as he thought about the consequences of cracking the image. Seven years bad luck? He would take a million for her. Yet, the creature had not spoken her name. Nor did it know her heart-shaped face, misty blue eyes, or the humming of her voice. The thrall did not know the ache in his chest when he heard her call for him.

In all the calamity, within all the chaos and destruction he had endured, and most of all, through the deepest of his searing agony, Behemoth had never forgotten the smile of the one who gave him everlasting hope.

The thrall had never known what it meant to be needed. Never known the sorrow, or pleasure that being being a father granted.

Empty titles hung in the air, meant to sting him with menace, but all he could see was her face and the surge of concern that welled up in his chest thrived in the empty wavelengths of the room and carried him through the undeniable temptation. The serpent at Behemoth's side lowered to the ground and shrunk in size before sliding toward the mock Behemoth.

As the snake slithered close to the clone, it wrapped its body in corkscrews around him. Suddenly, the scales of the mind creature turned to wind, dissipating to ash at the touch of the thrall.

The empty titles drifted tonelessly to his ears.

The man with Behemoth's face had no purpose, no power, and the original was sure that would be his demise. It was time to end this and his snake had gone. He wouldn't exercise the thought. It was all too real, his emotions live in his stomach and would not be tamed.

Was a man, incapable of redemption, able to become another person's savior? Behemoth could not save himself, even physically he relied on a little black vile in order for his body to remain wholly intact. The dose was daily. Yet the poison was never suspended from his system. It was a drug that he relied on, like oh so cheap thrills he had lived off of before. Change, like Rome, didn't happen in a day, yet what was this empathy he felt for a mere girl?

Behemoth looked at his own face, his lip curled back in a snarl and the other set of eyes lit with a green glow of perception. He saw an empty man. They would see which of them would prove as flammable as straw.

Selfish, selfish.. The creature narrated with the movement of his mouth.

There was no denying that. And the showdown was about to begin with the clashing of their minds.

...

A heavy weight hung in the vacant air. Now more than ever, would the two minds show their wrath. Psychic bends of energy swirled invisibly fast as Behemoth unleashed the eternal torment stored in his mind on the empty abyss of the room.

Whips of bombarding force crackled toward his foe in nonexistent ribbons of light. There were two targets in battles against those of his own kind, telepathics were vulnerable to both the tangible and intangible. First Behemoth had attacked the thrall's defenses of the mind with raw remote force, the second was the physical manifestation that had taken shape in the warzone that had become of Millie's mind. No mercy would be shown, not with so much on the line and at least some of the forced strikes of damage would soon hit.

The Thrall had no memories that could be used against him - or if he did they were hidden in shade - so with another swish of his hand, Behemoth conjured a few meaningless mirages with they were flung into him.

Immediately a pair of huge fangs appeared from the darkness behind the false Behemoth, as the deadly gaping maw of the serpent appeared to aim the arch of his teeth into the neck and shoulder of the shade.

With the final distraction, the last of Behemoth's traps had been set, depending on the Thrall's reaction, the demise of the trespasser was certain to be. Behemoth would a abolish the pest from her mind. His own desires fueled by the stories, the memories of his daughter, and the pride that they were all his.