Jūdicium
Latin: Judgment.
This story contains themes of suicide. Disengage with this thread immediately if this is something you are struggling with or are disturbed by. If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
The sound of a glass crashing to the floor wakes you from your sleep. The room has grown colder since the time you had drifted off. Despite the heating in your home it cuts through, pooling into your core and into even your bones. It’s begun to rain outside, but from the way it hits your roof you have rights to believe it’s actually freezing rain. Another shuffle comes from the other side of your room, bringing you to full consciousness.
Her hair is longer than you remembered, tangled, dark and matted on one side. As if she had slept on that side before her arrival. The black, gooey, tangled patch glistens in what little light the outside world has to offer. Its blue haze peaks through your window, illuminating the cored side of her head. You’ve seen this girl many times, even in the daylight. But the glass shattered across the floor coupled with the fact she hasn’t disappeared yet leads you to believe she isn’t just your imagination this time. Or if she is, it's the most convincing rendition yet.
Her deep black eyes hover over you for a second, expression unreadable.
“So you’re still alive after all of this time?” Chie says, throat bobbing as she swallows. She’s almost translucent, like a ghost. “Have you even thought of me? About what you’ve done?” The whites of her eyes flash yellow, just for a split second.
“If you’re sorry, even a little, you’ll come with me. I need you to understand something before I go.”
Her feet hover off the ground, her voice a grating echo in your ear. At her core, behind the filmy translucence of her dress, a small blue light flickers in time with your heartbeat. It crackles and fizzes as you notice it but Chie continues on, phasing through your bedroom door. She beckons you into the rest of the night which is oddly silent, aside from the rain and the wind and the gentle whirr of parting air.
... a branch thread of Persona : Crossroads.