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“In a multitasking computer operating system, a Daemon (/ˈdiːmən/ or /ˈdeɪmən/) is a computer program that runs as a background process. Daemons are constantly working, doing low-level tasks, not just monitoring activity, such as handling system logging, or handling secure network connections. They're a reference to Maxwell's Demon, a rhetorical "demon" used in physics and thermodynamics thought experiments.”
This was the first thing he learned when he arrived in Lambda. It was a terminology used in computer programming. He still remembered how fascinated he felt at all the new technology that was now at his hands, a whole new world of possibilities was always right there without him knowing, his entire world shifted, all the technology he didn’t know existed. It was terrifying how much knowledge laid upon the world without him being aware of it, and how he was only exposed to it because he was allowed to.
“If you are going to learn it,
learn it all”
That’s what he was told by the woman who raised him.
He held those words close to his heart. It was what his mother taught him, even if it hadn’t been out of love, but out of interest that he became quality meat.
It was something that was taught to him so they could take his life away.
But he could use that. He could turn it against them. He would take what was given to him and show them what they had created.
Even if he was at a disadvantage, for the world was suddenly filled with so many artifacts and creatures that he knew nothing about.
He took particular interest towards computing mechanics as soon as he had learned that they were behind pretty much everything, they controlled everything. They were what drove every single thing in this facility, from the doors opening, to the power of the lights that lit the hallways, to the cameras that watched him all day.
Even if computer engineering was new to him, he had learned many of the concepts behind it in Grace Field, it was based on physics and mathematics, which he was already familiar with.
It was there that he learned about Maxwell’s Demon, an imaginary being from a thought experiment that constantly works in the background in the second law of thermodynamics.
“If we conceive of a being, a Demon, whose faculties are so sharpened that he can follow every molecule in its course, such a being, whose attributes are as essentially finite as our own, would be able to do what is impossible to us”
The first thing he learned about computing and code was the ever present existence of Daemons, they perform action without user interaction. Monitoring, logging, repressed memories, unconscious habits. They're always there, always active. They control everything.
Maxwell's demon is consistent with Greek mythology's interpretation of a Daemon as a supernatural being working in the background, with no particular bias towards good or evil.
Those were always Norman’s preferred stories, those of fantasy, mythology, epic tales of old voyagers and adventurers that risked it all and explored the world. Brave travellers that went on exciting journeys and quests every day. Who discovered mysterious creatures, melodies, remote lands, fought against the most terrifying monsters.
Those stories would always be filled with majestic creatures that made his imagination go wild. Stories that talked about dragons, giants, syrens, spirits, cyclops, harpies… Daemons…
In the ancient greek religion, daemons designate not a specific class of divine beings, but a peculiar mode of activity, it is an occult power that drives humans forward or acts against them. Since daemons are the veiled countenance of divine activity, every deity can act as a daemon.
In Plato’s Symposium, the priestess Diatoma teaches Socrates that love is not a deity, but rather a "great daemon". She goes on to explain that "everything daemonic is between divine and mortal", and she describes daemons as "interpreting and transporting human things to the gods and divine things to men; entreaties and sacrifices from below, and ordinances and requitals from above..."
They are our deepest fears and desires. Our memories and our habits. They mean no harm nor good. They simply exist.
All his life he had been taught to believe that the existence of such creatures was mere fantasy. Until one day that illusion was broken when he saw the dead body of an innocent child whose life was cruelly cut. Whose death served to feed the demons of that world. Real demons . Not like the ones that hid in the ink of the books he read. They were real. And he was only alive because of them. Demons that fed upon lives that weren’t theirs to take. Lives that they had designed to be born out of obligation and then taken from their mother’s arms, to be raised simply as cattle, and then to meet their end with a flower piercing their chest.
The day after Emma and him had found Conny’s lifeless body inside that car had been the first time he had had to fake a “good morning” smile. An image that had stayed with him all this time. An image that came back to his mind every time he had to put on a fake smile and act like everything was fine. A smile he had to wear every time he saw Mama, even if he knew that her smile was fake as well, that she smiled even though she had sent countless children to their deaths. And she continued to wear that smile every day, acting like she wouldn’t send more.
The first time he had to fake that smile had been after the illusion of his happy life in Grace Field had been shattered. Now, it was routine.
“Good morning, Doctor”
It was a lot harder to pretend inside Lambda. It was a lot colder, a lot harsher, a lot lonelier than his home.
Back then he could pretend to keep his family going, seeing Emma and Ray and his family alive each day, feeling their warmth, even with the threat of death always looming, seeing his family was enough to give him the strength to put on a mask and fake a smile when he needed to.
Now he only had the hope of seeing them again as his only strength.
So he would fake that smile every day, even if it was hard. Even if it was hard to keep up every day. Even if his hatred for Lambda grew every day. Even If the days between his stay in that place and the last time he saw his family grew longer. Even if the fear that he wouldn't be able to escape or see them again, the fear of what they might do to him, what they are doing to him, ever got to his head, he never let his smile waver. He couldn't let himself be weak. He needed to keep that hope, every day that passed.
He would wake up everyday to the deafening sound of silence, no children’s laughter filling the halls, no siblings to wake him up, no good mornings from Sherry or Phil. The only one that would greet him back was his doctor.
The only interactions he ever had was with the few scientists in the facility, and only when he was talked to. People that truly didn't see him as anything more than another experiment. A number. Just cattle.
“It’s just standard procedure, please lift your sleeve” They told him, it was the first time they asked for a blood sample, to pierce his skin. It had been one of the scientists working there, Norman remembered seeing him walking through the halls a couple of times. He had never talked to him. He didn't know his name. He was just another part of Lambda. Another person in a white lab coat.
He told Norman it was a normal part of the research, just as they checked his vitals every morning, they had to take a blood sample every so often. It wasn't that bad. With time, he got used to it, to the point that he didn't feel anything at all, no matter how thick the needle got. He managed to endure through it. The first few times had been strange. To be treated like that. To have a stranger pierce his body, It reminded him of the first time that he had been marked in that place.
As soon as he arrived, they had made sure to mark him as an experiment. A mark that would stay burnt on his skin his whole life. A mark that displayed the symbol of the place where he was caged. Right above his heart. It was a strange sensation. It was the first time they had hurt him.
Really hurt him.
A memory he tried to suppress. The feeling of the heat coming down on his chest, killing his skin and leaving only ink black death behind. Leaving a mark to remind him that he wasn’t human. At least not in there. He was theirs.
After that he wasn’t hurt again. Not directly at least.
In fact they made sure that he was treated with the utmost care. A special boy… they said.
A special boy with special needs…
He chuckled softly at that, remembering the first time he had heard that. Not enough for anyone to notice while he laid on his bed inside his room. It was a reach to call it a room. White blank walls lit by dim blue lights. He wasn’t used to how cold it got. To how strict the schedule was. How he was always under surveillance. Never got a moment to himself. The only place he was free and hidden away from the strangers that watched him all day, was his head.
He treasured his memories the most, when the days got harsh, when the overwhelming fear built won to the hope he so desperately fought to hold onto.
He closed his eyes replaying the memories of his past in his mind… with the hope to let his mind drift away… and sleep.
“Let’s live on together, Norman!” Don’t you want to live? Emma’s eyes practically screamed
It was a nice memory, Norman stretched out his hand and held his friends.
“I’ll live with you” he said
Before he turned around and saw those huge eyes staring at him. Hungry to eat him. Fear overwhelming him. Seeing those sharp claws and horrible distorted bodies was enough to leave him without breath. While he felt his heart race faster each second he tried to move, to try to shelter Emma and Ray. But they weren’t there anymore. They were on the floor. Lifeless, just like Conny. Flowers stabbing the place right above their hearts. Skin looking sickening pale and eyes wide and void of life. Staring right at him. Blood dripping out of their mouths. Norman ran towards them trying to help them. But all he could do was hold onto their lifeless bodies as he felt tears coming out of his eyes before he felt a pressure on his chest that hurt as if someone was burning him.
He woke up with a jolt on his bed, the light from the outside falling on his face through the window, the soft sounds of birds chirping in the distance and the rustle of the people outside.
It was one of the rare instances he had actually decided to sleep, and in his bedroom at that. The bedroom that found itself on the highest point of the hideout.
He got up slowly, rubbing his head. Pain deafening his senses as soon as he regained consciousness. It was getting worse each day that passed. The overwhelming ringing in his head as he felt his vision spin. Just waking up was becoming harder and harder. He would have to increase his pill intake soon.
Looking back was always a weird sensation. It reminded him of whenever he looked in the mirror. Seeing himself grow and change… despite the fact that he was supposed to be dead. Seeing that brand burnt on his chest. A mark that separated him from his family. From himself. From that innocent child that played tag with his siblings.
Glimpses of Gracefield always came to his mind on the strangest occasions.
One second he could be seeing Emma’s green eyes shining in front of him, or Ray sitting under a tree reading a book peacefully… feeling everything way too real, practically being able to feel their touch and hear their voices like they were right in front of him… like if he was still there, somehow…
And the next second he’ll be starting down at his own blood stained hands. Trembling.
He felt a bit envious towards that. Towards the idea that maybe out there somewhere there was a version of that got to play with his family back in the safety of his home. Not a murderer, but a naive child.
“It's cold tonight” Norman said. Seeing how his own words produced a tiny misty cloud as he spoke. The air felt cold and it would have been enough to knock his younger self out for a whole week.
He felt the thick white cloak shield him from the air piercing his skin. A modesty that was given to him by Vincent. Adorned with a symbol on the back to mark his status as William Minerva. “Boss” he had started to call him, and soon everyone followed, not that he minded. It had been about a month since they had broken out of Lambda and settled in their new hideout. They were adjusting to their new way of living, free of the harmful hands of strangers in lab coats.
“So what do we need, boss?” Barbara asked, gripping her new bat she had acquired just for tonight.
“We just need some medicine and food supplies, there should be enough in there” Norman replied to her. “Vincent and I will take care of it, meanwhile you and Cislo will attack the left wing, it’s where the security breach is, Zazie will come with you”
“You got it, boss!”
Screams filled the halls that shone with the glaring of the emergency lights going off throughout the compound. The sound of the alarms ringing over and over again.
He did it
He really did it
He managed to mock Lambda’s surveillance. He managed to break into the code of the security. To break chaos and set every cell open. To gather a group of wounded, yet capable people that could set everyone in that damned place free.
He did it. He did it. He did it.
He could practically feel his smile growing more and more with Vincent behind him as he ran.
He had never felt so much freedom in his life. The one time he thought that he could outsmart Mama and find the weakness in the wall that separated them from the outside, from freedom. He had only been greeted by a view of an abyss. A void that was impossible to let him be free with his family.
And even before that, when he could run freely and careless through the woods playing tag, he wasn’t ever truly free, even if he felt that way, there were always chains locked around his feet.
Running through the cold empty halls.
Running faster than he ever did.
Towards the other part of the facility. He would save everyone. Just how he had promised Emma.
They were so close, they would see the sky, the sun, the stars, all of it under freedom. They could use the stars that they could see in a clear sky to guide them… guiding themselves with a star they were all familiar with…
Before he opened the door of the other side of Lambda, and horror washed over him
It had been a decaying farm. With little regards to their conditions. Little security and the mass produced children there left mostly unattended. It was the first time they had actually attacked and burnt it down, instead of just sneaking in for supplies. Some things he hadn’t foreseen had happened. But he was quick to react and take advantage of it for his plan, it had left his hands hurt and filled with blood. But it was nothing too grave. After that Vincent told him to make sure to have Zazie with him at all times.
As he looked at his trembling hands he noticed how snowflakes started to fall on them. He looked up to see how snow was falling everywhere around them, mixing with the smoke that came out of the burning farm in front of him. One moment ago he was looking at the burning farm with disdain. The smell of burning corpses thick in the air.
He looked over at his friends, who all looked as incredulous towards the snow that was falling on them.
Zazie was trying to catch the snowflakes with his hands, it was his first time seeing snow, Norman thought, he was trying to catch the little harmless droplets that he had never seen before. Barbara and Cislo just looked around bewildered, probably remembering the last time they had seen snow, much before they were taken away. While Vincent just looked at the sky with a look Norman couldn’t decipher.
Meanwhile Norman didn’t have so many fond memories of snow. He was never allowed outside when the harsh weather came around. And the few times he ever went outside during those times he would surely fall ill the next day.
Seeing snow fall now was a weird sensation. He wasn’t weak anymore. Not in the regard that he would catch a cold at least. But to see the white droplets adorn the scenery he was robbed of seeing for almost two years…
He extended his hand and watched as a snowflake melted on his red stained hand.
“Sometimes a Daemon without a controlling terminal hangs up and you will need to destroy this process by killing it.”
He remembered the first time he had done something like that. A part of him always knew that he wanted to do that. But he always figured that when the time came. something or- someone would stop him. He always had that hope that he wouldn’t be capable of such a thing. Even when he had to act brave in front of Ray, telling him he would do the dirty job of killing Mama. Even if he thought he was able to do that. He still always hoped a part of me stopped him. Screamed at him. Showed him that he was not actually capable of that.
But it didn’t.
And the worst part is.
He didn’t feel guilty.
fear, hatred
It was always heavier than guilt.
“I’m here to save you”
But he couldn’t save all of them.
That was the guilt that always kept him up at night. He could still hear the way the children choked on their blood because their lungs couldn’t function properly without all the life support they had been forced into since birth, their bodies just collapsed and twitched while Norman couldn’t do anything but watch.
Unable to help.
Unable to save them.
As soon as he laid eyes on the horrifying picture of children hanging from the ceiling, life being provided artificially, children locked on cells mutilated, cut, marked to no end, he knew this was beyond him.
He can’t say he didn’t try.
He was alone when it happened.
He had sent Vincent to watch over the control room while Norman gathered as many people as he could. He didn’t know what took over him, his first instinct was to try to set the locked up children free. But whenever he removed them from their gadgets they would just convulse. In panic he tried to put them back but it was too late. The alarms and the lights kept going off and he was lost. He didn’t know what to do. This was something that was truly beyond his control. If he ever even had any. He had just tried to save some of the poor souls that had been butchered in the horrifying walls of Lambda. And they couldn’t make it.
It was as if the whole world stopped. Time slowed down. The alarms stopped blasting his ears. No more screams or lights going off. He didn't know how long he sat there with the children's body in his arms.
It was only when reality hit him.
that this wouldn't be the last time.
that there were thousands of children like this.
that he couldn't save them all. He couldn't slow time down for each lost kid.
He looked up at the hundreds of children stacked up over one another. Children who wouldn’t survive outside.
How foolish of him to think that there was a way where everyone could live. Where everyone could be free. Feel the breeze and the warmth of the sun on their face.
But all he could feel was the warmth of the flames lit by his own anger.
Anger at them for disfiguring and butchering innocent lives. For contorting their bodies that were meant to live like normal humans. Only to be stripped away from that possibility when the demons who had no shape took away their own.
That’s why he was surprised when he found an experiment locked up with chains around his arms. Whose body was filled with scars and untold pain.
And when he looked into his eyes
He didn’t see anger, nor hatred, nor despise
He saw fear
He saw a child
He didn’t see a monster
He saw a kid wrongfully stripped away from his humanity
He stretched out his hand towards the children that were strong enough to survive that fateful night. Looking like a beacon of hope. A guiding spirit sent from the heavens, unharmed by cruel hands and ready to lead them like a God without fear. The hope they had always wanted and lost inside those cells.
All of them had visible scars.
All of them looked so lost.
All of them.
Except for him.
“I’m here to save you”
The bodies of the children they couldn’t save were always burnt. Norman always stood fixed on the spot looking the flames go up.
Wondering how a world could be so cruel.
The night they escaped they were able to get back at demons for what they did to them all of that time.
After that they weren’t hurt again. They made sure of that.
“In computational terms mirroring has many applications. In essence, it refers to an exact, real-time copy of something. This ensures continuous availability of the data, even in the event of failure on one drive’s part.”
Inside Lambda he was surrounded by mirrors when he walked through the halls. Wondering what those walls hid on the other side. He was never really sure if his reflection is what stared back at him. He had started to change. It was odd.
“You sure have gotten taller”
Norman turned his head towards the scientist that had just spoken to him. A normal looking man in his mid 40s probably. Eyes hiding behind glasses.
“Well it had to happen at some point” Norman smiled. He was the only scientist that actually treated him like a person. Not an experiment. Norman didn’t really trust him completely. But he appreciated the attempt at socializing. It may just be that deep down he just craved for someone to talk to him. But if someone treated him well he would at least take advantage of it.
He set his rubik cube down on the table and got up “Done”
Norman could see what he was talking about. Before, he used to crane his head upwards to look at the researchers in the eye, but lately that height breach was getting smaller. He had to admit it was painful. He wasn’t sure if the pain was from growing so fast was normal or if there was something else to do with it. He had been suspicious of the pills ever since the first day they had given them to him. But he still clung onto that hope that this pain was just normal puberty.
“Is it time to go back to my room?” He asked the scientist that was fiddling now with some papers in his hands.
He looked up with a wishful look on his face.
Norman was a bit curious about that. It wasn’t everyday that people looked at him like he just wasn’t the perfect golden boy from Grace Field, but more like had just seen a ghost.
“What is it?” Norman asked.
There was a pause
“Ah… It’s nothing… you just… reminded me of someone”
That 's odd. Norman thought.
But then again back then he didn’t know who he was talking to. That this scientist would eventually contact him to help him escape. That the person he was referring to was the person he needed to become.
It was painful every time he looked back at that conversation. When he realized Smee was talking about James. Someone he couldn’t save. Someone who died for the cause…
After all
He couldn’t save Smee either
Mirroring consists of reflecting back the behavior that is expected of you. To act as the copy of what you’ve seen.
to-
“Boss…?”
“Is everything alright?” Vincent asked me with a curious expression on his face
Snapping out of his trance Norman looked down and saw that his hands were trembling.
For as long as Norman could remember, he loved to disassemble clocks. Or any piece of mechanics he could get his hands on. Viewing a machine from the inside out was so fascinating. The way everything had a hidden process. You just had to find your way inside.
It was a way to keep his hands and his mind busy. Always focusing on something. Setting his mind to learn everything he could. Gather every piece of information.
“You seem distracted” Vincent stated “have you rested enough?” He asked out of concern. He was always looking out for him, he knew that he could take care of himself, and he even admired his strength, but he also was aware of how little rest Norman received, and how much stress and responsibility laid on his shoulders, leading so many children, organizing and planning farm raids, researching a way to get rid of the demons, it was a heavy burden, but he made sure to hide the instances when exhaustion got the better of him, and only show the mask he had so perfectly crafted.
A mask that was harder to take off each day.
Sure, they needed that mask, that figure, that symbol
It’s become something Norman needed too.
He remembered those moments a lot. When his hands worked their way into the body of a dead demon. It was an easy comparison. He just let his body take over. He never got used to that place. To the act of cutting demons open. Cutting body parts, saving them for research. Sure, it was fascinating to learn so much, find the weaknesses in the demons… But it was gruesome. He could let his own hands guide their way into all the dirty job. It was a mechanic already set in his mind. He just had to use a knife. Just like disassembling a clock.
“Everything is alright, I was just thinking about the plan” he stated. Vincent nodded before continuing to work on his own.
Norman looked down at the dismembered body that he had just cut open. Staring at the guts of the demon that would have lived to eat more humans had he not put a stop to it.
“Learn everything… “ The phrase echoed in his mind
“That’s all?” Norman asked incredulously towards Mama. “There’s no way! What happened to the girl? did they see each other again?”
His mother liked to tell him these stories. Of the heroes that defeated evil. Of the far away lands. He loved how poetic they sounded. He liked to remember and memorize what they said. And keep it with him. Once, she spoke of a story about a boy who lived in a land where he would never have to grow up.
Isabella giggled at his antics. “I’m afraid I’ve got no answers for you, the story ends there”
What?? Norman thought and pouted.
“That’s all the story, all you can do now is read it again” Mama told Norman patting his head.
That’s unfair… he thought. Isabella noticed the lump of hair sticking out his head and chuckled.
“My you look just like a little white bird with this hair” Norman just stared back at her with bright blue eyes while she took out a pin from her own hair.
“Here, little bird” She said as she twisted the tiny hair that stuck out almost looking like a halo and pinned it down.
“That’s from the story!” Norman claimed, excited. “Yes, you remembered” Isabella patted his head again, amused by his ability to remember the quote.
In Lambda he had read many, many books. But barely any of them were story-like novels. Most of them were just about physics or mathematics, actual literature was scarce.
When he escaped he didn’t expect to find any more books outside the hideout, let alone novels or epics. And yet when he broke into the house of a Demon who lived in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, he was surprised to encounter a wide variety of books. Some of them even in his own language.
But it wasn’t just any demon’s house.
As the tapping of his feet sounded ever so closer with each step he took towards a locked door. He opened it carefully only to be greeted by a strange girl inside. She was talking in another language, one that he had just started to learn. She should have looked scared, grateful, happy even. That she wouldn’t have to live with a monster anymore. That she was free. But as his comrades came closer to her, he knew he didn’t have to know the foreign tongue she spoke to understand what she was saying. She didn’t look scared.
In her eyes Norman could only see the same anger he saw reflected in Barbara or Cislo’s eyes whenever they looked at demons.
Only now her anger was directed at him.
Her monster.
Even after escaping. Reality hit him hard. How foolish of him to think that he could just escape, go back to his family.
“Emma! Ray!”
“I’m here! I’m alive! I’m sorry for lying”
He would say running towards them, tears falling out of his eyes, but not because he would be sad, they would be tears of joy. Excited to finally see his family after so long. He would practically leap towards them with a smile on his face. And as soon as he was close to them he would hug them, grip them so hard, with a strength he never knew he had. They would be happy to see him too. They would laugh and cry and share all the wild stories they had lived whilst separated.
But life isn’t so kind that you can have everything you want. He couldn’t outrun his demons. It was exhausting, the repetition. That even if they had escaped out of that place physically. It still haunted them, every time they closed their eyes, every time they felt the pain from seizures numbing their senses, every time they had to bury another child that couldn’t make it through another day.
Hate can be useful
Norman used to think he knew what hate was.
When he learned the truth about the place he so dearly called home, the place that had given a warm place to live to all of the siblings he had.
Hate is like opening a locked door. Once he picked the lock and took a glimpse outside, hatred started to grow, the more he learned about the world he was born in the more hate nested inside.
And then one day he was able to pick the cage where he was locked.
And he knew what hate was.
Hate can be useful. Not only towards others. But towards himself.
With each new farm raid. Each horrific act he commited. Each demon he killed, butchered or cut open. The more he got used to letting hate fester. The more he could stop trying to pretend like somehow, someday, he could go back to his family.
It was easier to hate himself that way. It hurt less. With each day that passed the more his time went down. He had failed at trying to create a way to cure his friends. He couldn’t save the children in the farms. He couldn’t even save himself.
But he could destroy himself. He could destroy everything that stood on his path. And find a way for others to live after he was gone.
It was as simple as a killing command towards a Daemon process.
“Always try to kill a process with a simple kill command. If this command does not work, the terminal will need a signal, the system will hang up, and kill any child process that is still running”
He knew that what he was doing was beyond forgiveness, who was he to take the lives of children away?
But every time he closed his eyes… he could see them. The bodies of those who he had tried to save from their death. Convulsing, trying to breathe and move without the help of the machine that had fed them all their lives.
Those cruel farms. It hurt him. Every time he had to pull that lever down. To hear those children die.
But it was the most peaceful way.
He knew that better than all people.
It was what the world had reduced them to. And all he could offer was a peaceful way to die.
He was no god.
“We deserve to be free!”
“Now is the time to end the 1000 years of suffering!” He shouted at his friends, his followers. Those who he had united to defeat the cruel ways of this world. To put a stop to the death of cattle children.
He shouted as he looked at everyone’s determined faces. This was it. The time to put an end to everything is now. He should feel victorious, happy, content…
But as he walked away from the crowd to think by himself… he could only look up at the sky and see the north star reflected on the sky...
The first time he had seen the stars adorning the sky… it had been with Emma and Ray. They had broken the rules and snuck out at night to map the constellations. A night he would never forget. He loved doing such things with them… doing things they weren't supposed to do. Breaking the rules. Getting in trouble together. Even if he didn’t appear to be the kind to like breaking the rules. He loved the adrenaline of adventure with his beloved Emma and Ray.
That night the sky was so beautiful. Filled with stars everywhere he laid his eyes upon. It had been truly breathtaking. Almost surreal. To be able to see with his own eyes how mesmerizing the stars were. The way they colored the sky. All the stories they had to tell. Pictures couldn’t even compare. And there he was- seeing the night sky with his own eyes.
“One day when we’re all adventuring together, we just need to use this North Star as a landmark, then!”
Emma had said about the North star. A star that was actually made up of three stars overlapping each other.
Now he walked under the night sky. Dressed in his shipment clothes. Holding an empty suitcase. Walking towards his death. The north star nowhere to be found in the sky. It was finally here. The day he would die. Somehow he was able to walk calmly towards the iron bars in the gate that had forever marked him with death ever since the day he found conny. Now he would die there too.
He hesitated before entering
It's okay. There's no other way. They need to escape.
He sighed and looked at the night sky for what would be the last time in his life. And stepped into the gates…
Ever since his first test he was viewed as special. The amazement in his caretaker's eyes as he answered every question flawlessly in under eight minutes. How his older siblings always treated him differently, they always acted like he was this big genius, who would achieve great things. Whenever he beat his older siblings at chess at the bare age of four, as soon as he had started to learn, how he could swallow books about physics and mechanics in one sitting at such a young age, not because he wanted to improve, but because he found it fascinating. All the knowledge the world had to offer, the wonder of discovery that made him feel alive.
“You are not weak, you just need special care, you are a very special boy after all, Norman” Isabella told him one day he had caught a cold. He simply looked down and fiddled with his hands. “I just don’t want to be sick anymore” he said.
“I don't want to be special if I need to be taken care of”
Isabella smiled sadly at that and caressed his cheek “C'mon you are not so bad, you’ll be outside in no time, I’m taking good care of you” she paused “Besides… you are much better than last time”
She was right, the last time he got sick it got to him real bad, which was strange, he was about to turn eight soon, his body had been getting better at handling colds, but then all of the sudden he caught this cold that had left him at the hands of care of his mama for almost two weeks, For two weeks, he was trapped inside the infirmary.
“But Mama! We want to see him!” He could hear them all say from the other side of the door. He wanted to see them too. This cold was particularly bad, Mama didn’t allow anyone in. Even if the days passed, he didn't seem to be getting better. His temperature kept being high and he just felt weaker each day that passed, sometimes Mama had to feed him because his hands couldn't stop shaking to lift up the spoon. He hated it. He tried to distract himself. Thankfully Mama knew him well, and he knew she loved to see him learn. With what little mechanical clocks and to disassemble on his own or books to read she snuck him in, he could manage.
The hardest part was convincing Mama to let him do his daily tests, he couldn't even stand up on his own, and when he walked his legs would wobble and fail. “You said it yourself, I’m a special boy with special needs. But how can I deserve this treatment if I can't even put my knowledge to use?”
Isabella squinted her eyes at him for that comment, but contemplated the idea for a few minutes.
So she decided to see how well he could manage ten minutes outside, she would help him walk towards the test room and back to the infirmary, no other stops, no distractions, no unnecessary greetings or hugs from anyone, just this one task. If he could manage, he would keep doing his daily exams in his only ten minutes outside his cage.
So he reunited all his strength, he concentrated on making his legs work, on not passing out, on not showing vulnerability or weakness, he would show Mama he was capable.
Even if he couldn't breathe, even if pain infested his lungs every time he coughed, how he felt his chest contract and his head spin, doubling down from the sheer pain, tears dwelling in his eyes as he gasped for air but all he could do was pant and cough.
When he started to cough blood it didn't really surprise him, the pain had been growing stronger and stronger each day now, he needed to keep increasing his pill count every few days…
He knew
He was running out of time.
Though it was weird to see blood on his hands that didn't belong to anyone else.
Even if deep down he always knew he wouldn't make it far
To see that confirmation staining his hand, so warm and fresh, so…. real
The worst part about the seizures was the uncertainty.
Never knowing when they may come, always being on the alert, anxious of when the next wave of ever growing pain will hit. He couldn't get used to them. Every time it only got worse, reminding him of what they did to him, what he became in return, and what he won't be able to be anymore.
He started to write a journal to keep a routine. Where he wrote down the date he had calculated would be his last day. And saved it in his office.
It was the second time in his life that a date had marked the day he would die.
A resolution sometimes equals a scream
It can’t help but be
Walking through the castle, filled with the corpses of the fallen, the scent of blood and smoke filling his lungs.
The sound of him walking beside the dead bodies of those that were killed by his command.
Walking calmly towards the Queen that ruled that cruel world.
“Nice to meet you, emma. Nice to meet you Norman.” Those words that had always been stuck inside his head. Repeating themselves echoing in his mind. It was the moment his mother had decided to take off her facade in front of him. To show her real wicked corrupted self.
“It is nice to meet you, your majesty” He said as he looked down to the queen’s butchered body on the floor of her own throne room. A throne room decorated by antique demonic items and jewelry. A place where hundreds of cattle children had been feasted upon. A room that defined the pinnacle of everything wrong with this world.
“It was clear that everything considered important and good was insignificant and repulsive, and that all this glamour and luxury hid the old well-known crimes, which not only remained unpunished but were adorned with all the splendor men can devise”
He remembered the quote from a book about a man from a strange foreign land who was forced to witness the injustice of the world. A world this man had never known about, breaking his illusion of good.
It was where the royals had eaten so many of his brothers and sisters. It filled him with anger.
A throne room now decorated with the dead bodies who had inflicted so much pain on the ones he cared about. It was a sight that would have repulsed his younger self. He remembered the first time he had seen a dead body--from the first time he laid eyes upon his dead siblings eyes.
Conny’s eyes reflecting nothing but death. He was petrified. Utterly horrified at the fact that someone could do something like that. To his siblings. To the people he cared about. To Him.
But he wasn’t young and naive anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time
“Not a single one of us will be your food any longer”
Kill process.
It was a simple command. He let his knife guide his hand. As it had many times before. This was just another demon. No, not just any demon. It was the last one. With this death, his brothers and sisters would be free. Finally free, they didn’t have to live in fear anymore.
And just like that.
They’re dead. Killed.
Gone.
It was so simple
A single task
“Keep going”
Even if cruelty got the better of him.
Even if he had to live alone every day.
Even if he had to live through pills or injections or tests or whatever experiments.
“I’m strong, it’s okay”
Even if he had to watch children die.
It’s going to be okay
You can win, you can fight
It’s going to be okay
Almost there