The moment my fingers made contact with the figure, a shockwave of energy surged through me, unlike anything I had ever felt. It was as though my very essence was being pulled from my body and reshaped, like clay being molded by an unseen hand. My mind spiraled into a vortex of images, memories, and emotions that were not my own.
I saw flashes of faces—strange, distorted faces—twisting and contorting, their eyes filled with despair, their bodies writhing in agony. The faces merged, blurred into one, and I saw them all at once, felt them all at once. They were me. And I was them.
I screamed, but no sound came. The truth was crashing into me like waves, each one more forceful than the last, drowning me in its depth. I could feel my own thoughts—my own identity—splitting apart, fragmenting, as if I were being consumed by something far larger than myself.
The light from the figure grew brighter, blinding, and I could hear a voice, not from the figure, but from inside me—something deep within my mind, ancient and familiar.
"You've always known the truth, Psychobi."
The words echoed, vibrating through every fiber of my being. I tried to resist, but there was no escaping it. The figure was not just a figure—it was the embodiment of everything I had ever feared, everything I had ever been, and everything I would become.
"The truth that binds all things. The truth that lives in your blood. The truth that made you who you are."
I could feel it now—the blood that ran through my veins was not my own. It was a dark, ancient power that had been passed down through generations, a curse that had been waiting for the right moment to awaken. I could feel the history of it, the weight of it, pressing against my chest, suffocating me.
"You are the vessel," the voice inside me continued, growing stronger, more forceful. "You are the key. The truth is yours to command. It has always been yours."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was the pull of the darkness, the call of the truth that had always been buried inside me. I was no longer Psychobi, the boy who had walked this earth with a mask of normalcy. I was something else. Something far darker.
The figure began to shift, its form melting and re-forming, like smoke twisting in the air. Its face no longer resembled the faceless shape I had first seen—it now looked exactly like me. Not the me I was now, but the me from years ago, from the boy I had once been, before the darkness consumed me.
"You are me," the figure said, its voice dripping with a strange mix of pity and triumph. "And I am you. We are the same. We always have been."
I reached out, my hand trembling. It felt wrong, but it felt inevitable. I was no longer fighting it.
"No." The word barely escaped my lips, a whisper of resistance. "I am not you."
But even as I said it, I knew the truth. I knew it deep within my soul. We were the same. I was the monster. The darkness had always been within me, had always been waiting for the right moment to take control.
The figure reached out, its hand grazing my own, and in that instant, I felt everything—every shred of the truth that had been hidden from me, every darkness I had suppressed, every twisted desire that had never been truly mine.
"You are the one who opens the gate, Psychobi," the figure said. "You are the one who will release it all. The truth cannot be hidden any longer. It is time for you to embrace your destiny."
I couldn't deny it any longer. The hunger, the desire, the overwhelming need to understand, to control, had consumed me. It was all I had ever wanted. All I had ever been.
And now, there was no turning back.
The ground beneath me cracked, splitting wide open, and from the darkness, something stirred. A force. A power. A presence. It began to rise from the depths, filling the void, pushing the light away. I could feel it, hear it—the whisper of something ancient, something malevolent, something that had waited for this very moment.
The figure stepped back, its form dissipating into the void as it whispered one final command:
"It is time."
And then, the darkness consumed everything.
________
Jabrane
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