Reality shattered and a new universe was born.
Hanged upside down on a cross the princess stared the the girl before her, such a disgusting being she was. The courtroom was silent, the skeletal figures could not dare make a voice and listened silently.
"As the judge of this trial I promise on my name Azazel Iustitiae that I will not be biased and will not lie under her gaze!"
Verum!
Each skeletal figures took out a wooden hammer from under their black robes. The lifted their hands and slammed down the hammer. The sound of bones cracking filled the court.
"As a habit I want to start with your most serious crime. You killed sixteen men before the age of eight. Your actions until this point are forgiven according to the laws of our princess known for her forgiving nature and justice."
With eyes filled with madness she stared at the puddle of blood on the ground. She was in her knees yet she didn't try to get up or try to stop the bleeding. She just stared at the blood lost in thoughts. He was dead. Just because she hesitated and now he was behind. He loved her enough to sacrifice himself yet she just left him behind.
"After stopping your spree of murders for a while you started again. After the age of 12 you killed over 76 kids between the ages of 7 and 13. You mutilated their bodies and tortured them for your selfish pleasure!"
Tears ran down his face as he screamed her sins yet she stood still, neither protested or accepted the accusations. She repeated something, her only belief as a mantra.
"He is here...he is here...he is here! Give him back! Give my Diarmuid back you bastard! Stop looking like him or I will peel that skin off your body!"
At that moment she saw it. Isolated from his words and reality she felt a small movement the string moved. The red string of love became whole again, he was back. Diarmuid was out there waiting for her to claim once more.
That was the moment a saint awakened at the brink of losing control, a saint without a god.
Ut eam pati!
"Haunt me my Diarmuid! Peel my muscles off my bones and carve your name on them! Curse my name and spit on my face as I rot! Ohhh Diarmuid my beloved lover, accept me into your embrace and look at me with those same eyes once more! Dance with me until we rot together in our grave!"
Altar of love where we danced.
A new universe was created as they clashed. Reality shattered and ruptured creating a new image before the fake's eyes. An altar made of human corpses, the innocent boys she tortured in hope of making them look like him, in hope of creating a fake beloved because she saw herself as too low to claim him. Their corpses became the very foundation of her altar for her beloved, a chapel made of corpses.
All the abominations returned to her, this was the true form of a saint.
"I will judge you accordingly and fair!"
Weapons of all kinds appeared behind the fake as his hands went for a eastern sword, a sword given to him so that he can rip an arm.
"I will not let anything or anyone take you away Diarmuid! I will not hesitate no more, I will use everything in my hands no matter how ugly or disgusting they are. I will protect you from all that stands in our way and claim you for myself!"
Her hands dug into her skin, blood ran down her now pale skin like that of the dead. She looked lifeless, the only thing she could hear was her heartbeat beating faster than ever. Those eyes of her's that looked upon him, those eyes that cried without him, these hands that failed to hold him, these hands that failed to save him. She wanted to rip them all.
"You acted selfish and left him to die! You never cared about him but just the thought of him. You lived yourself more than you could ever love him!"
He spoke with an almost disgusted tone that was hiding his smile behind those lips. He took pleasure from torturing this disgusting whore before his eyes. Her slender fingers dug into her own eyes, blood dripped down as she dug out the gelatin-like aqueous humor with her bare hands. She shouted with her desperate voice yet her cries held more than that, they held hope and a slight happiness.
"These eyes of mine are not worthy of you Diarmuid! Hear my voice, welcome your lover with open arms even if you want to curse my existence. Welcome me to your embrace even if it means your heart will stay broken for a while, let me heal those shattered dreams and become the owner of that heart!"
Before him stood an abomination. Her body, covered in muscles, tendons, bones and more stood there. All of them covered her, shielded her with their own bodies. Only an eye was visible from her between the layers and layers of muscles and tendons it stared at the outside world yet it saw nothing other than a string. Above her head was a halo braided from bowels of all around that spinned and dripped down blood on her huge frame. She held a huge cleaver made from muscles, bones and tendons that's only purpose was to tear apart everything that stood on her and his path.
Saint of obsessive love. A saint that awakened at the brink of loss of control, an unstable monster with one purpose. A saint above most and one that will not stop until her purpose is fulfilled.
Supplicium!
"I grant you a sword to rip an arm my darling."
An ethereal voice echoed in the court before the altar and the court both burned down and they returned to the halls where dreams and more died.
Avdotya charged forward without hesitation to cleave away the fake when she suddenly stopped. Tendrils shot out from her body and dug into the walls, stopping her. The fake charged forward to land the first blow only for Avdotya to dissappear with speed he couldn't even react.
She must have understood the meaning. This was the second time in his entire life this fake felt fear. He would surely lose more than an arm if he failed to fulfill the judgement of her.
His eyes opened wide as his gaze penetrated this disgusting church of blasphemy. Every hall, every wall was covered by the sinners, he was forced to witness their sins yet he gazed further and further until he saw it's sins.
He lowered his posture before dashing forward like a wild beast ready to tear whatever he can. Following a wild instinct with tears in his eyes he lunged forward faster than light, wielding a rusty sword which was greenish in color after all it was a ritualistic item made of copper.
Turns after turns, halls after halls he went after the fragment of sins. It was right there, right behind the corner. He had to dash and lift his guard. He was sure that she coukd hear him so dashing forward would only end with death. He rushed until the split of roads before stopping himself and reaching out his arm to blindly stab right behind the corner while looking the other way to see if there was any trap.
Before his eyes was the monster that escaped from his judgement. His eyes looked the other way in a panic. A little boy was stabbed, a boy with a stitched face torn apart and stitched back to resemble his own.
At that moment he realized that he would surely die by either that disgusting monsters hands or by his beloved princesses hands. How could she deceive his vision? She must have forced her soul inside that body for a little bit to lure him there. That means that dead child she used as a puppet must count as her. Before she returns back he must have ripped an arm no matter the cost.
With an animalistic scream he ripped apart the boy and slammed his sword down to the torso on the ground ripping the arm off after a second swing.
At that moment he felt true pleasure, pleasure from being able to fulfill and earn her love.
A short sword made with bones, tendons, muscles and nerves struck his body.
"You don't look so cute when dying darling."
Even with the edge of death there was no mistaking it. This was her heavenly voice. She was weighting down at his body, her hands were around his neck and they felt as if they burned through his soul maybe because of the blood loss maybe because of something else.
"I did it..."
He managed to kill the boy before the soul transfered back which in return turned this execution into a successful one.
"You did my love, you did it like always. I am so proud of you...you know that right?"
"...."
"Why are you so silent? Are you doubting me? Do you think I don't appreciate you? My dear judge? You are my hands and my tongue darling."
Time reverted back.
Spilled blood and intestines warped and went inside the body of the fake before the wound closed as if it never happened.
"Thank you?"
She dissappeared as if she never existed. She must have healed his wounds as a gift for following the prophecy of the punishment or maybe because she felt gratitude. She was hard to understand and the previous punishments have caused him to lose a lot. At this moment he hardly knew anything about her yet he still followed her blindly.
"Ohh who are you people? Golems? Never knew their kind could be out there! Ohh world is full of surprises isn't it?"
A mechanical figure stepped forward. Before his feet were two corpses and from the remnants of their desire they must have been at least on the level of saints. The figure looked down at them before pulling their desire into his own, devouring them. Behind the figure five saints followed. Unlike him they seemed to be relatively human-like.
"Welcome father! You must have came here to take care of the true one or well...whatever is left of him. Poor guy, they left nothing of him or should I say your kind?"
The man with his fully mechanical body and a single camera as his head ignored the taunts and walked around him as if his words had no meaning.
"Father the little kid you couldn't save will change the world today! A true god will be born from the suffering of my kind! Go! father go! Maybe you can apologize after seeing what is left of your....son?no! they ripped that off too!"
A weak laughter escaped from his lips yet none of the men cared for his words. As the men left him alone and dissappeared from his sight he got up and walked towards the opposite direction.
"Princess do you really want me to leave this early? There is still one left right? Maybe another one will escape too."
"That man was an angel. If he is here it is better to leave it all behind and leave. There are billions to judge outside why not give them true justice?"
An ethereal voice echoes in his head causing a little smile to form on his lips as he slowly walked away from the men.
"Angel you say? That is no more than a fake title for someone so neutral like him. Well better than all those Diarmuid's I met here. The wheelchair one was fine and I was surprised to see one as pure as him but that failed angel was no more than disgusting."
"Witnessing all the sins of your kind and seeing everything he loved die in his hands broke him. That fake messiah takes pleasure from Diarmuid's suffering."
"Not the suffering but the way they can go too far...why are you looking at me like that? I am not a Diarmuid anymore you gave me a beautiful name and your surname didn't you?"
"It was the best decision of my life. The day I took your hand in marriage was the happiest moment of my life."
"Such a lucky man I am! We shouldn't wait for long, I don't wanna be here when they meet half Enkidu."
"Why call it half? It will never become whole again."
"Yeah...like all those on the walls they came here while hoping to escape from their life that ruined them, had no meaning or was no more than a torture for them yet in the end they became nothing."
Brains inside a weird liquid his brain couldn't understand, connected to the walls with metal cables inserted into them. Nerves floated inside the the glass canisters connected to the walls.
Broken on a wheel.
His limbs were shattered and broken so that he could never paint again.
His eyes were gouged out so that he could never see again.
His jaw was dislocated with a pear so that he could never speak again.
They fed him every day to make sure he suffered for more.
They put a tube down his throat and forced it all down.
He didn't care about the pain anymore but wondered.
"Sheep?"
What does a Sheep look like? I can't even remember it. I should go find one or else how can I draw it?
"Let me help you draw darling...I will make sure you will create the finest paintings this world ever saw."
That night blood decorated every church, saints fought with everything they had and released all their artifacts hoping they would give them the edge but....were torn apart by the blades of a true monster.
It only said one phrase while cackling as if she took enjoyment from their suffering. It repeated a sentence like a mantra as if it was the only thing that kept her whole.
"I love you Diarmuid!"