《The Lone Survivor》Chapter 30 - Reality vs Forgery
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I remember everything- everything except where these two men fit into my life. All I know is that somehow, at some point, they hurt me. And recently, they took me from my lover.
I don't know why, but when I think of Lukah as my lover, the words feel wrong, somehow. And when I say them, the words taste sour on my tongue. I think harder, trying the fit the vampires into the picture. But every time I try, I feel nauseous and have to stop.
When I think about recent events, the true memories seem to shimmer and slip out of my grasp, replaced by what Lukah has told me. And I've been brought up to not believe everything I'm told without proof, and what proof do I have that anything that's been said is true?
Is Lukah lying to me? Are the twins telling me the truth? Or are both parties lying to me? I don't know how I'll ever work it out, when both sides are adamant that they speak the truth. And could Chase and Zion fake sounding so sad, so sincere? I have memories of Lukah, but how will I ever know if they are real, if I can't trust my own mind?
I think back to my time with Lukah, where I see myself smiling in his embrace as we passionately make love. On the surface, it looks as if we were happy. But... could it be?
I've thought back on this memory many times as it provides a little relief, knowing I was happy. But I never saw the cracks before. It's almost as if the memory is cracking at the edges, as if something has been covered up... I reach out, hesitantly pressing, willing what I now realise is a forged memory to fall away. And when the facade shatters, I wish it never had.
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I almost threw up.
I see myself screaming in agony, blood trickling down my thighs as the man I believed to be my lover raped me. How did I not see it before?! How did I let myself be ruined?
He lied to me, and somehow fabricated good memories of our time together. It makes me feel sick, knowing what he did to me, and how I sang his praises and demanded to be taken back to him. But do I want to stay here?
I now remember the true Lukah, but no matter how hard I search, nothing of the twins has been fabricated, but there are blank spots in my mind where memories have been erased... And that means I can't see the true memories unless they can help me remember. And if those memories were so bad, I suppose they wouldn't want to help me.
It's time to put on a brave face, come out from my safe spot and ask for their help myself. I may be terrified of them, but I need answers. I need the truth, no matter how much that may hurt me.
We just kept drawing blanks. How the heck are we going to help Fabian? Especially as he's so unwilling...
Or so we thought, until we heard the creak of the stairs. Our eyes shot towards the sound, to find Fabian stood there tentatively. I saw him swallow nervously and take a deep breath as he walked towards us.
When he got closer, he stopped and bowed his head, a gesture which left me feeling confused. Until he spoke.
"Please help me, I-" he stopped for a moment to collect himself. "I know what
Lukah did to me, b-but I can't remember either of you, no matter how hard I try I can only see the gaps where I assume you fit into my life"
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Zion tensed, and it was then that I realised I hadn't filled him in... I took the horrific news bad, so I can only imagine what Zion is going to be like...
"What. Did. Lukah. Do. To. Him." he hissed through clenched teeth, his body visibly shaking slightly.
"I don't know how to tell you, without you storming off and making an attempt on his life" I laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. I don't want to be the one who tells him I really don't.
"Chase. You better answer my question this instant, you can't dodge your way around this one"
"I destroyed the note, but I still have the picture he left. I don't know why I kept it, honestly. Here" I said, fishing into my pocket and handing him the photograph, refusing to look upon it again myself.
I expected him to get angry, to scream obscenities, to punch something. But somehow, this reaction was even worse.
Silence.
Silence as tears dribbled down his cheeks, meeting at his chin and falling without a sound to the floor. Silence as stared blankly at the picture, until it fell to the floor with a soft fluttering sound.
I heard Fabian gasp in horror as he looked at the picture, but he didn't say anything either. Instead, he wordlessly threw his arms around my brother, rubbing his back soothingly.
I could only watch with wide eyes as Zion hugged him back, murmuring that he was sorry, and that it was all his fault. Fabian shook his head, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Zion's cheek. I felt tears of my own fall at the sight of the two of them so close.
"I don't remember how it happened, but I'm sure it wasn't your fault, either of you. If you had really hurt me I'm the past, or had intentions of hurting me now, you wouldn't have reacted like that. Now I'm sure. You two must have tried to save me from him, but I was too blinded to see it. I'm going to ask- no, beg- for your help again. I need you to help me remember, it's breaking my heart how much you seem to care for me when I cannot remember an hour with you"
Zion managed a small smile, whilst I just wiped away my own fallen tears. "Yes, of course we'll help you. It's the only thing we've been trying to do all along" I whispered, hugging the both of them.
I didn't realise that when we took that small, anxious shifter in, we were both going to fall so deep. He may be hard work sometimes, especially with all the baggage of his past, but I wouldn't change a second of our time together for the world. Every single experience has made us grow stronger, closer. And I just know that we're only going to grow closer in the future.
And I think I know how we're going to get him to remember us.
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The First Corridor of Old Works
But what is it, really? Old Works. They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream. That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets. Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors. Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze. Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death. Or that it is. Death. - Death itself. But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know. - Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it? Eminently possible, but - it couldn't be worse? 3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works. 4 heroes: The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare. The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure. The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves. And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him. They literally dream him. But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving? What kind of sick demonic mind could even - But it can only be psychosis - Or possession. Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke? And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals? A game for him? A game/a dream; a – world? Or just Old Works. And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her. What is it anyway? And what reality does it bring with it. This demon or God. Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through - What happens to all us... slaves... then? But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works. This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT] Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21] At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms. After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week. - But don't lie to yourself it's not there. That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads. It's - Of countless, it could only be - The First Corridor of Old Works.
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