Word count: 3018, +9EXP gained!
Level: 1 - EXP: 3/10
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(Note: All the of this event take place in Black Mages dreams)
The last thing Black Mage remembers was remaining within the Police Station to rest his low energy husk. But now he was in a place he has never seen before, lights hanging from the ceiling of a dimly lit room. He would look left and right, almost completely compressed by walls, having less than a foot of arm space. He lifted his arms and sleeves, noticing something completely odd… He no longer had hands. He would begin to panic, as he would be rendered useless against any foes that may appear. He looked down the hallway to see a familiar chicken-shaped
companion running into a dark nearby room at the end of the hall. He would reach for the ally, and began to run towards the shape. The hall was extremely long, with the stench of blood lingering in the thick air, the torches on the wall very rarely lit. He rushed up to the door and opened it with his elbow, very slowly with a deep and menacing creak.
He entered the newly found dark room and would be presented with yet another long hallway, although this one seemed fairly shorter. He began to walk down the hall, greeted with the presence of the familiar entity going down towards a door in a similar location as the one he had just entered. He would sprint at his top speed, trying to get to the door before this can disappear. As he got to the door, he was expecting him to have not gotten far down the hall, given the speed it was traversing the crevices. To the Mage’s surprise… the creature had mysteriously reached the end of yet again, another dark hallway, shorter than the previous one, but not by much. He was now set on finding the cause of the Chocobos quick transition between each room he had passed. The room settled darker, the thickness of the air weighing down on the Mage’s lungs. He would start to feel extremely tired, weary, even sick. Yet he pushed on to find where this Chocobo was headed. He reached the end of another hall and opened yet another door.
The next room was nothing like the previous rooms. The smell of blood quickly transitioned to the smell of a decaying body, a smell that Black Mage had recently been fond of. The walls now had aged wallpaper and were lit more efficiently by modern lamps. He would swiftly cover his nose with his sleeve, blocking the harsh smell from his nasal cavity. The Chocobo was disappearing down the hall with swift succession. Rapidly succeeding the next hall, the room after would shrink, again and again, trying to warn Black Mage of the dangers that may lay further ahead. Yet his curiosity moved him closer to that danger, killing his patience bit by tiny bit… He would open the door on the furthest right of the room once more and would be hit in the face with cobwebs, which the creature SHOULD have walked through… Yet was able to avoid. His tired feet would stop moving, lacking the motivation to carry on. He would sit on the ground and see if there would be anything coming his way.
A window would appear mounted on the wall, seemingly placed and fake when Black Mage looked up. He would raise an “eyebrow” at this oddity and proceed to stand up to investigate. Looking out and down the window, he saw nothing but clouds and mist, but looking up, he saw a bright ray of light consuming seemingly individuals below. He would rub his “ghostly hands” in a cold and terrified manner, not knowing what lay ahead. One thing he DID know, was that he was high up,
suspended in a tower of sorts, being preserved by this mystery creature for some assumed foul intent. Creeped out by the fact he was being kept as food or a science experiment, Black Mage would rub the clear liquid that formed on his brow. He seemed more discouraged to continue on… He seemed lost, both mentally and physically. Standing up and clearing his voice he would find the courage to finally say
“If there is something in here trying to slaughter me, please make it quick. I need as much time as possible to find my purpose in the after-life.” He would patiently and cautiously listen for any form of a response, a creak in the floor, a door opening, or even a groan or a voice, but much to his dismay, nothing. This was one of Black Mage’s secret fears… pure nothingness and isolation. He would tap his foot worriedly.
“Alrighty then, you just missed your one and only chance. Now I’m going to find you and completely knock you out! (Yeah right Vivi… you don’t even have hands right now.)” The mage thought and spoke to himself.
Grabbing a lantern off the wall with his teeth, he would stick it in his outward pocket, trying to produce light as he was walking further and further down the corridor. He would slip and fall into a pile of cobwebs, struggling to retain his balance because of the whole no hands ordeal. He would pop back off and brush himself off with his arms. Approaching yet another door, he opened it to finally be greeted with not another door. Yet, he arrived back at the Police station… Though something was completely off… all of his newer compatriots… were completely turned to stone. He would go to touch the statue of Leon and it would crumple off the touch of Black Mage’s gentle touch… Crippling to the floor, only the head of Leon would remain. Black Mage would feel no regret for the accident, and rather climb over the rubble and head towards the front door he was specifically told to “STAY AWAY” from. He would rattle the doorknob with his elbow, though it was obvious that the door was locked.
Damnit Leon… you coulda at least unlocked it before you died… Also, where in the world of my heart did that Chocobo head to!? For the first time in a while, Black Mage would be completely dumbfounded and confused. He would head back toward the hall he remembered falling asleep down, and sure enough, there was a stone version of himself laying on the floor before him. He walks further down the hall and is greeted with the hallway he found himself in when he experienced over-supernatural occurrences, but behind him remained the hall he had just come from. The Chocobo was no longer in the hallway and Black Mage headed down the dark hallway fearlessly, trying to solve this odd case.
The hallway seemed to go on forever and rather than smelling like blood or an ill body, rather the hallway reeked of peppermint. It was sickeningly sweet. He would approach the door he first traversed through and open it, his eyes gaping widely in fear and horror. Panning towards the room, each of the walls was splattered with blood, a dead yellow Chocobo lay dead in the center of the room, a stone figurine replacing the creature now. He would shake his head no and think to himself
Nope, Nope, Nope… Not going in there. No way. Nuh-uh. He began to turn himself around, but as he twisted his body nearly one-hundred degrees, his eyes lay upon a familiar key. It was the key that opened the very front door, the key he had never been allowed to touch or see. How did he know this specific fact? Because a mysterious not hung under it saying
“Come out and play, Vivi…” He would cringe at the dark origins the not may have come from. Perhaps a dark jester, set out on killing him, or perhaps yet another dark lord set out on raising perfect corruption. He knew from the get-go, that this was a perfectly planned trap, trying to get Black Mage to surrender his guard and pretend to finally be free from the prison that was ironically enough the Police Station. Unfortunately for this poor soul, he had no choice but to go eliminate the cause of the mischief. He drops the lamp he has been carrying for quite some time now on to the ground, then grabs the key with the brim of his hat and strategically tosses it into the pocket that the lamp used to be located in. A shudder would come over Black Mage’s body as he put these keys in his pocket, terrified of what may lie beyond the door to another realm.
Walking slowly back down the dark and menacing hallway, Black Mage would be terrified in anticipation. He looked at the ceiling, trying to catch any glimpse of hope that might exist in the little warrior’s heart before he would go fight, yet again, another ultimate battle for the restoration of peace and normality. Remembering his uselessness due to the literal lack of arms, he would begin to slowly regret himself taking up this challenge. He would pocket his arms and continue to traverse the long hallway. Once he reached the central plaza of the Police Station once more, he would look at his fallen compatriots, completely ridden by the cause of these more than regular, odd events. He takes the key out by sticking his pocket inside out and letting it gently tumble on to the floor. As disgusting as he thought his next actions were, he would yet again, pick up the key with his mouth, off of the floor. Like a needle going into a piece of thread, he lined up the key with the keyhole. After a few attempts to get the key inside the hole, he was finally able to find himself successful. He would then turn his head counter-clockwise and unlock the door with his teeth.
He pushed the heavy door open with all of his might, trying to enable himself to exit the facility once and for all.
Finally, I was beginning to lose hope I would be stuck in there forever… This whole fake apocalypse stuff has been really getting on my nerves. I don’t feel trapped any more! The Mage would take a look around at his new environment. Rather than seeing the beams of beautiful light he had seen in the sky earlier, with clouds and mist, he saw a horizon of pure darkness… no light, no clouds, no stars, nothing. Just the ground he stood on and the pitch-black sky, which radiated the void. Out of nowhere, a random chuckling noise could be heard, followed along by a deep screech. He would look to the sky, and see nothing. Just the continuous black he had seen a few moments previously. The noise would repeat like a broken record, forcing Black Mage to cover his ears from the absurdly loud noise that was present. The wind began to howl, almost knocking off Black Mages hat he was seen with, making his cloak flap heroicly in the breeze.
From the void in the sky, two entities could be spotted… A
pink ball that bore a Jester’s Cap, and a
giant skeleton-like behemoth that had a shilling screech that could break eardrums. The ball would look at Black Mage and say
“Ah! Vivi Orienter! I have very much been expecting you! HEH HEH. Wanna play a game of ‘mitosis’? You had better say ‘Oh yes Marx my supreme leader and best friend! I will certainly play!” Whoever the hell this kid is, he was clearly ill in the head. Black Mage would look at Marx with a confused stare, wondering why a person he never met would already know his real name. He squinted his eyes at the lord of the void and very valiantly said
“You know what ‘Marx’ (He did with air quotes)
?... No. I’m not gonna say it, mostly because I don’t even know you.” The puffball who called himself Marx would begin to hysterically laugh at the small mage. He would then sigh and lowly look at the being before him.
“You know why you don’t know me, Vivi? His voice would become deep and threatening,
” BECAUSE I AM GOD. The creature to his left would begin to screech loudly again, obviously trying to tell Marx something.
“Yes, yes, I know you want to slaughter him. Just hold out a little longer Banshee…” Marx pointed at the terrifying creature as if he were making a promise of some sort. Marx would look down at Black Mage again, angered and disgusted,
“And you! How dare you tell me no! I control you mortal, Mortal, MORTAL!!! Where do you think your filthy little hands went? I TOOK THEM YOU IDIOCY. Look!” Marx would split in half, opening a rift into the void. Out of that void, Marx would summon Black Mage’s missing hands and place them on top of his (Marx’s) head. He would grin and cackle evilly.
“Does the little Magician want to show us a magic trick? Aw… He can’t! For he does not have hands!” He would laugh hysterically again, Black Mage would contain his anger and save it for the difficult fight that lay ahead. To Black Mage’s surprise, Marx would say,
“Here you can have them back. I just wanted to have some fun with you is all!” He would smile peacefully, but Black Mage knew it was a trick. He wouldn’t let his guard down when suddenly his arms came back to him out of the blue. They would lock back into place, creating a very quick and minor sharp pain, which quickly faded away. Charging a “Stop!” Spell, Black Mage would attempt to paralyze his foes with his dark magic. But before he could release the attack, the Banshee would holler, forcing him to cancel the attack to cover his ears. There was a certain aspect to the pain the Banshee created, it made you feel like you were literally crackling, about to crumble on the spot. It would amplify the sound of the shriek tenfold, making it nearly impossible for Black Mage to think. He felt as though his brain were going to melt inside of his skull. Marx would yell at the creature, commanding it to,
“Cry louder! He can’t die unless you scream at your max! He’s more determined than those other Pebbles!” The creature would maximize it’s yelling, trying to break past Black Mages eardrums and sleeves. Black Mage would begin to shout in pain, an action he did very rarely… His legs had slowly been turning grey, showing the control of stone the Banshee had on him. Most heroes of his caliber would have given up then and there, but rather, Black Mage unplugged his ears and began to charge a fireball spell to throw at the Banshee. He was able to upgrade it to the 4th level it could manage, the peak of the fireball spell. Forty grand balls of his dark fire would gather in a circle, ready to attack. The scream from the Banshee would make the flames flicker lightly, yet they did not go out. The stone continued to crawl up Black Mages leg, now reaching his lower torso, and it only got worse and worse. Screaming to hide his pain, Black Mage finished his fire spell and slung the wicked attack towards Marx.
It was a head-on collision, directly hitting Marx, the giant demon would fall to the ground, but there remained one issue, the Banshee. It yelled louder in rage, managing to nearly engulf the warrior in stone. It hardened and hardened, until Black Mage’s face, which produced a final tear, was covered in the hard stone… This… This was the end of the Mage’s long journey… But it was for nothing…
Black Mage would wake up in a deep sweat, fear taking complete and total control of Black Mage’s body. He jolted upright, then looked at his hands, as to make sure they were still intact with the rest of his body.
Why in the green Earth must humans have terrifying dreams that alert them to danger! Goodness! He would get up on his feet and pick up his dropped staff he used to prop his head on. He began to walk back towards the place he was meant to be keeping guard of and look out the window to assure that nothing had changed since he fell asleep.
Everything seems normal… dead people walking… everyone in low spirits and not a rock… Good, good. Phew.” He would get up close and personal, as to check that he was very well still alive. He would poke him with his staff to make sure he was not going to fall over into a pile of dust that was very much not alive. To his surprise, nothing happened and business carried on as usual. Black Mage performed his daily tasks and check the “room” he found the dead Chocobo in was fake as well. No dead animals, or none he had familiarized with himself at least. He wasn’t going to lie to himself… he missed the semi-sane company the group of survivors provided for him. He missed the meaningless conversations and talk of past lives that he and his compatriots brought up on occasion. He missed the wild and rowdy spirits of the crew, he missed the groans of the undead, and he missed the off smelling Police Station. He would miss all of the extremely horrible things about being in the Police Station, as long as that meant NEVER going back to that dream world he lived in. Although, curiosity still piqued his interest… What really did lay outside of this dinky old Police Station? What was out there? He would slightly shutter in fear for he hopes that whatever IS out there is not like the sociopath Marx and his monster he called a Banshee.