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It didn't make sense for it to be here, but they were in Hell again. Arson and Psych, those two alone. Arson felt a hole in his chest. Not a physical one. But he knew he felt empty. He looked up, and met eyes with Psych. He realized then his head hurt, and so he reached up to touch his head. Now he lacked both horns. Psych held one in her hand. And then she spoke.
Arson, I believe you know what I'm going to do now. Now that I have my piece of you, and now that we're alone. You know like I do that you belong to no one. I belong to no one. We are finite now. Irrelevant. No. Sorry, obsolete. I had given this speech earlier, but It forgot the word.
Arson stared. He was on the ground. Kneeling. He didn't remember getting here, but it didn't feel like he was there against his will.
I don't know what you're talking about. I belong to someone, even if you don't. I belong to-
Don't do this. Don't make it hard. You felt it too. He's not yours and you're not his. He's not even on our plane anymore. He belongs to someone, and we don't. Everyone who you're supposed to love and hate, everyone who's supposed to love and hate you, is pointless now. Either they don't belong to anyone, or they're elsewhere now.
...
You felt it too. You felt something shift, didn't you?
...
You felt that our own god has failed us.
Lucifer?
No. You know what I'm saying.
...
When did you last feel him, Arson? Recently. Just yesterday, he was with us, wasn't he?
Faint. Faint, but there. He was holding us, Psych.
And then he let go. He knew, I think, that I would have to do this. I think he wants me to destroy everything he made.
Arson couldn't think anymore. He'd lost his mind, but regardless, he remembered someone else. So he responded.
That's stupid. To pick you. He has a beast who is more than the perfect person to destroy his world, and it's easy to get rid of afterwards.
I know. But we were first. We were more important.
And now we're.. nothing.
Psych didn't cry often during her life. Regardless, she did it now, as she realized she was behind Arson. She wasn't in front of him anymore. And she drove his broken horn into the back of his skull, and he was dead.
That was what she was supposed to do.
And although I didn't think it was possible, she turned to me. And then she spoke.
I know what you want me to do. I don't want to do it. I'm all that's left. You don't want me to do it either. Haven't I done enough? I know I was never good. But I didn't want to destroy it all. I'm lonely and I want everything back. I want it all back.
And then I began to turn the page, because it was just a useless sketch. Nothing real. But then she spoke again.
I did what you needed me to. I did, and since I won't finish it, you'll write me away.
It's an odd story, really, considering there is no Psych to be speaking.