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Kris found themselves pacing back and forth in their room as they replayed their memories of the day. They could feel their agitation bubbling beneath their skin and they were itching to peel it off. It was a miracle that the soul hadn’t stopped them mid pace, considering how much it has been exerting its presence through control, lately. Well, it wasn’t always about control. Most of the time it was led by curiosity, but that was besides the point. Kris could still feel their agitation boiling beneath their skin. Soul or no soul, there was no stopping their spiral.
Susie had been rather aggressive today, and while her antics sometimes amused them, Kris did not get a say in how they handled it today. All because of that damned soul. They were forced to watch themselves grin and bear through her throwing wads of candy wrap at their head, and felt their throat close up and their voice vanish when she would joke that she had “missed the trash can”. Every kick to the back of their desk made their muscles tighten, and adrenaline rushed through them as they fought to relax. She waited for them by their locker at the end of the school day and grabbed them by their shirt and slammed Kris against it. She told them that she saw them dump their lunch in the trash and that they don’t deserve to have Toriel as a mom, and that if she sees them doing it again, she’ll make them wish they didn’t exist. And what did it make them do? Gawk at her gaping maw until she scoffed and walked away. All because the soul’s anxiety overrode their mind. If they had full control they could have handled it smoothly, and if not smoothly, they could have at least been present in their body.
It had been a long day of being an outsider in their own body in general. When Kris focused on that thought, it started to make Susie's bullying seem small and miniscule compared to that issue. Under its full control, the world felt out of reach for them and at its worst, their surroundings took on a dream-like and distorted quality. They were already tired of having to carry this soul, no, this invader, this sick creature that had a seemingly ceaseless need to satiate its curiosity no matter the cost. They doubted they could ever get used to the sensation of being disconnected from their body in such an extreme way, or how violated they felt when they had no choice but to watch themselves say and do things without their own input. Having to take a backseat in their own actions, in their way of life filled them with a slow growing frustration that threatened to transform into a fury that could explode to the surface at any moment, if certain conditions were met.
They stopped their pacing to let out a long, guttural growl and clutched at their sternum. It was squirming in their chest again. It was trying to nest itself against their heart. Their skin broke out in goosebumps and their stomach lurched when they felt it nuzzle their insides. They dropped to their knees, one hand braced against the floor as the other rose up in the air, forming a claw. Kris let out their rage with an animalistic yell as they plunged their hand into their chest and tore their way through their flesh, reaching for the source of all their frustration and powerlessness. It made a pathetic attempt at burrowing itself deeper within Kris’s ribcage, only to be thwarted by Kris’s painful, claw-like grasp. It pulsed in Kris's hand, wriggling and writhing as they held it in an iron grip, lips curling into a snarl as they felt it try to worm its way out. Kris hurled the soul at the birdcage in their room with a scream that threatened to reverberate in their room, and made sure the cage’s door was locked before they could finally revel in their freedom.
Shakily, they paced around their room for a few more minutes. Removing the soul was only half the battle, after all. They were still jittery from the adrenaline that it took to be rid of that thing, and the scars on their arm were practically begging to be picked and scratched at. Kris grit their teeth and fought against the urge. Finally, after a few deep breaths, they lowered themselves to the ground and laid flat on their back. They laid their hands upon their midsection and simply stared up at the ceiling, finding relief.
Kris's ribcage felt light for the first time in what seemed like ages. Their hands were theirs again. Their voice was theirs again. One hand laid still against their stomach, while the other reached up to their hair to comb through it, to let the sensation of each strand of hair caress their fingertips. Their fingers found a particular strand of hair that felt satisfying to rub between them. The tension in their body finally loosened bit by bit, as they focused on the sensation of their hair against their fingers, on the ground beneath them and the soft fabric of their sweater. The silence of their room brought them peace that they desperately needed.
Asriel introduced them to the concept of “floor time” just a few years ago, as an unconventional method to decompress. They weren’t sold on it, especially since their bed was just right there, but as time went by, and Asriel left for college, they began to understand the appeal. Sometimes, the body and mind demanded an immediate solution to unbearable stress, and this was better than resorting to old habits. Their mouth twitched at the thought of their old habits. They didn’t have to touch the scars on their arms to remember the blade against their skin. Their mind conjured an image of Asriel smiling and telling them that he was proud that they found a healthier coping mechanism that works for them. They shut their eyes and sighed. If only he could be here right now. If only they could hear his voice right now.
Their breathing slowed as the minutes went by until finally, the steady rise and fall of their chest brought them to a meditative state. Kris wiggled their legs gently here and there, just for the sake of feeling their weight and muscles move. Their hand was now rubbing the fuzzy fabric of their sweater between their fingers while the other simply lay on top of the strands of hair they had just touched. A quiet joy sprouted within them as they felt more and more reconnected with their body.
As content as they were in the moment, something began to feel strange to them. Their head was beginning to pound, accompanied by a dull ache. At first they paid it no mind, concluding that they simply didn’t drink enough water and that once they've had enough of floor time, they’d hydrate themself. Maybe they’d reward themself with a cold glass of chocolate milk. The thought was short lived, though, when a wave of dizziness took over. Their vision swam as the dizziness became nausea. How much time had passed, anyway? Was it already sunset? They could barely see any light peak from the curtains of their window.
Their breathing grew rapid and shallow as the pounding in their head grew stronger, and the dull ache became sharper and sharper. The veins in their body, in unison with their heart, began to pulsate forcefully as they shakily rose from their resting place on the floor. They had only been sitting upright for about 10 seconds when their hands braced against the floor to prevent themselves from falling face first, dizziness washing over them like a flash flood. Their head felt fuzzy, as if it were wrapped in fabric, and the sound of their pulse echoed in their ears loudly. Their heartbeat was racing and pulsated at a forceful and percussive tempo now.
Their vision became spotty before it evened out, and the sight of their soul from across the room only seemed to aggravate the pace of their breathing. The sight of its stupid, cartoonish heart shape served as a slap of mockery to Kris. Anger bubbled up from deep within them, twisting their face in a scowl. It was pushing itself against the cage now, trembling after each push. Kris glared at it coldly. Kris hated that they understood what it was trying to communicate. They would rather let their body give out, right here and now. They would rather indulge in the sensation of their body fighting for its last breath, in the slow river of blood that left their nostril as they begrudgingly crawled towards the cage. But they made a promise to someone, that they would see this through, even if it meant losing a part of themself. Even if it meant sacrificing themself.
Each crawl towards the cage encouraged the soul to slam against the cage’s door harder and harder. Kris grit their teeth at the sight of it, and also at the sharp pain that would occur at the same exact time as each desperate push. Their limbs were trembling and throbbing now and began to feel as heavy as boulders. It made each crawl feel like a step closer to death.
Kris only needed to crawl a little closer now. Just a little closer. Their hand shakily reached out to the cage that contained the little parasite that called their chest home. Their hand had begun to grip the handle of the door when a wave of dizziness slammed through them hard enough to make them collapse. Their free hand took the brunt of their fall, and they were lucky they didn’t hit their head against anything. The other weakly opened and closed against nothing. Kris used their last bit of strength to lay on their side before weakness could fully claim their body. Their eyelids began to feel heavy, and valiantly fought to keep them open until they grew tired and finally let their eyes flutter shut. Eventually, darkness took them.
When Kris opened their eyes again, they were greeted by the sight of the arched, wooden ceiling of Hometown’s church. They were lying down on their backside on the pew in the middle right. It was eerily silent, save for the sound of Kris’s steady, rhythmic breathing and their heartbeat. It appeared to be sunset, based on the glow of the light that shone on the wooden ceiling. It felt bewildering to end up here, but Kris decided they'd rather not think about it too much. If this was the consequence for desiring freedom for just a moment, then so be it. It's not like they could do much about it now, promise or not. Kris felt unsettled for a moment by the deathly silence of the church until their mind played a memory of going to the diner with Mom, Dad, and Asriel after service as a kid. Slowly, they sat up. They weren't ready to stand up and face forward towards the organ and the podium, so they stayed seated where they were.
Now that Kris was sitting upright, they could see a little more of their surroundings. The pews of the church were as normal as could be, and if they turned their head to look behind them, they could see the table that normally held their beloved church juice. The intricate patterns of the stained glass windows in front of them were lit up by the sunset. The hues of red, green, and gold glowed and glittered warmly and entranced them for a moment before looking down at their hands instead. Kris smiled faintly, remembering the way they used to trace the patterns of the stained glass windows with their finger as a little kid, how Asriel or their childhood friend Noelle – sometimes both – would join in with them until one of the church members gently chased them away, scolding them, but with no malice behind their words. Their smile vanished as the levity of the memory slowly brought a certain heaviness to their heart. They decided it was time to get up and face the organ and check their surroundings some more before their emotions got the better of them.
When they walked to the aisle and turned to face the organ, which was placed in between two stained glass windows, the rays of light became eye watering. Kris flinched at the bright array of colors dancing vividly across the floor, turning their head away so that their eyes could adjust. When it was safe to face the organ again, they saw something seated on the chair of the organ. It appeared to be a human, but not? There was something otherworldly and ethereal about it.
It didn’t have wings, but its shadow did. Its body was in the shape of a human, just like them, but they couldn’t see any real details, just a gentle, warm, reddish glow that took the shape of a human. When it turned around and stood up, they still couldn't see anything clearly. The beams of light that the stained glass windows emitted certainly didn't help. They couldn’t see its face – just the outline of its body and the faint impression of robes and gold bangles on its wrists – which made them take a step back, ready to run at a moment's notice.
This caught its attention, and it let out a sound of embarrassment and concern.
“I’m sorry to frighten you,” it said. Its voice had a soft and slightly raspy, androgynous quality. The acoustics of the church halls carried its voice.
Kris could almost laugh right now for reasons that seemed to escape them. They simply stared ahead. It shifted awkwardly and nearly squirmed in its place as they stared at it in silence.
“I hope you know that I’m being sincere with you,” it said, softer this time.
This time Kris let out a chuckle. A barely audible one, but a chuckle nonetheless.
“Oh, pray tell, what is so amusing to you that you must laugh at my expense?” it said, huffing and stomping its foot.
The way that it stomped its foot like a little rabbit only amused Kris even further. Kris doubled over, held their stomach and let out a maniacal cackle that not even they could fully explain.
“I don’t know what’s so funny to you, but I’m trying to be nice! Is this how you repay me?” it cried in frustration.
Kris gathered themself just enough to tell it that hardly anyone talks the way it does. That whatever it is, it’s trying too hard to emulate the idea of a person. A human. A “someone”. It scoffed at this statement and let out an exasperated sigh, crossing its arms and appeared to fix its stare at the floor.
“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” it muttered.
It was Kris’s turn to shuffle awkwardly now. “So, am I…dead?” they asked quietly.
“Ah, about that. Worry not, you're still alive. Your body is just recovering before you return to consciousness. Consider this a place of respite,” it calmly replied.
“What I’m still curious about is, what possessed you to hurt yourself in such a way? That's so dangerous!” it whispered, musing to itself.
Kris did their best to pretend like they didn't hear it, but the reminder of what they did to end up here made their face grow hot with something like embarrassment, and some other emotion that they could not name.
All the while, it stood there, seemingly oblivious to Kris’s internal predicament.
The wind from outside howled as a long silence fell over them.
Kris let out a small cough and asked, “So, what are you, anyway? Got a name?”
The entity appeared to tilt its head and mulled over their words. It replied, “You may call me Ciela. Basically, I am a manifestation of your soul. My memories aren’t fully intact, but some may refer to me as ‘The Angel’. Do with that as you will”.
Kris had to repress another chuckle. It’s not that they couldn’t take them seriously, but they were having a hard time believing that they were talking to the supposed manifestation of the soul that had taken over their life. They would have never guessed that such an entity could be so soft spoken and mild mannered, and frankly, rather awkward at times. Before they could indulge in the absurdity of the situation, they asked it another question.
“You know you’re not actually my soul, right? You know that you’re an intruder? A body snatcher, as some might say?” they asked with an amusement that was laced with bitterness.
It flinched at this. It actually flinched. Kris suppressed a scoff.
“I…I can explain,” it replied.
“You’d better.”
Kris was glowering at it now.
“Well. Um. I…this is what I remember. I was with someone. I was supposed to enter this world with a vessel of my own, and they were helping me create it to suit my own tastes and preferences. And before I could complete the process, I woke up in your body. I'm afraid that's all that I can recall.”
Ciela squirmed under Kris’s cold gaze as it told its story.
Kris and Ciela simply stared at each other before breaking eye contact. Kris’s hands made a fist before they opened their mouth to speak again.
“...Why me?” they muttered quietly. Their fists clenched impossibly tighter and their jaw was clenched now.
“I wish I could say. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, Kris,” it replied sadly. Kris was beginning to grit their teeth. Despite Ciela’s gentle and soothing tone, Kris only became more agitated. Their breathing hastened, and on instinct, they began to pace.
“Why me?” they asked, louder this time.
Ciela said nothing in reply.
“ANSWER ME! WHY ME?!” they screamed. Their scream echoed throughout the church loud enough to make Ciela flinch again.
“I would tell you if I knew! I swear it, Kris!” Ciela cried.
Kris stopped their pacing to face Ciela and growled with vitriol, “DON’T SAY MY NAME LIKE WE’RE FRIENDS, YOU ABOMINABLE FREAK! I NEVER EVEN TOLD YOU MY NAME, ANYWAY!”
Ciela stood frozen in place.
“WHAT, TOO SCARED TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF NOW, IS THAT IT?!” they taunted. Again, their only answer was a heavy silence.
Finally, it replied, “I’m sorry”.
Kris howled with a frustrated laugh.
“YOU’RE SORRY? YOU'RE SORRY?! YOU SHOULD BE! HOW DARE YOU! I DON’T HAVE A SAY IN HALF THE SHIT I DO ANYMORE BECAUSE YOU’RE ADDICTED TO YOUR FUCKED UP SENSE OF CURIOSITY! I DON’T EVEN GET TO EAT WHEN I WANT TO ANYMORE BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU ARE A VOYEURISTIC PIECE OF SHIT, LOWER THAN THE SCUM OF THE EARTH! IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU I WOULDN’T BE HAVING A SHIT TIME AT SCHOOL! I WOULDN'T BE HAVING A SHIT TIME BEING ALIVE IN GENERAL! I COULD AT LEAST HAVE A CHOICE IN HOW I REACT TO GETTING BULLIED, BUT NO! AT LEAST IF I WERE IN CONTROL, I COULD CHOOSE HOW I HANDLE IT! AT LEAST MY VOICE, MY BODY, MY EMOTIONS, WOULD BE ALL MINE, AND NO ONE ELSE’S!”
In a fit of rage, Kris let out a blood curdling yell and kicked one of the pews hard enough to leave a hole in it and sent it sliding across the room, nearly crashing into one of the windows. Their wrath came at a cost, however. They were breathing heavily now, and became so woozy that they fell to their knees as they heaved for air. Their body shook from the leftover remnants of their fury. Kris kept their eyes to the ground, and refused to look up.
After an unbearable period of silence, Ciela slowly, gingerly inched towards Kris until it stopped at an acceptable distance as if it were approaching an angry and scared animal. Even now, it insisted on keeping a gentle demeanor. Something ugly twisted in Kris’s stomach.
“You have every right to be angry with me. I don’t expect us to be friends at all. I never meant to have such a stronghold on your life. It sounds like I need to learn how to take a step back so that way you can gain back some control. After all, I was supposed to have a vessel of my own, not invade someone else’s life,” it remarked.
“I just want you to know that I don’t intend on being your enemy. If we’re stuck together like this, then I hope we can at least co-exist, despite our differences,” it continued.
Kris felt a storm of emotions building within them. They didn’t deserve this at all. Slowly, they sat up on their knees and looked up towards Ciela. It was still hard to see any clear details, but if they squinted, they could have sworn they could see a faint smile on its face. It wasn’t a mocking smile, but a kind one. It would have sickened them if they were still just as angry at Ciela.
Kris closed their eyes, and opened their mouth to speak when the sensation of falling hit them, forcing a startled gasp from them.
The adrenaline in their body jolted them awake, causing their entire body to jerk involuntarily and violently forced them to rise up as their lungs greedily sucked in the air of their room. Their chest continued to heave for air as Kris looked around. It was nearly pitch black, save for the moonlight that peaked from the curtains. They couldn't believe it was already so late at night. Mom was probably sleeping by now.
When they turned their head to look at the birdcage, it was empty and its door was hanging open. Kris reflexively placed their hand on their chest at the sight of it. Any other signs of the soul’s desperate attempt at escape wasn't visible from where they were. Kris audibly groaned at the thought of getting up to inspect it further, so they sat in place instead. They still needed a moment to catch their breath, afterall. As they sat in place, their mind wandered. They thought about the church they saw in their dream, and the being named Ciela.
They still had a hard time believing that “Ciela” was the soul inhabiting their body. Frankly, they had a hard time believing what they saw and heard in their dream in general. However, it was far too vivid to be a normal dream, so Kris supposed there might be some level of truth to it. Afterall, the foot they used to kick the pew in their dream felt rather sore. As if reading their mind, the soul wiggled around in their chest gently. Kris huffed out a weak laugh at this. If only they could find a way to communicate with Ciela in the waking world. Perhaps this would come with time. They still had a deal to uphold, after all, and based on what it entailed, perhaps there would come a day.
Trembling, Kris got up to their feet to walk towards the window. They gently opened the curtains, leaned against it and closed their eyes as they basked in the moonlight, forcing themself to breathe slower and more deliberately like Asriel taught them. Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4, hold 1, 2, 3, 4, breathe out 1, 2, 3, 4, hold. Repeat. They held on to this mantra until their breathing stabilized and they felt more steady in their body.
As Kris dared to stop leaning against the window, they took note of themselves. The blood from their nose had dried, and they had finally stopped trembling. The dizziness and nausea had vanished long by now. And interestingly enough, the presence of the soul -- well, Ciela, really – was still there, but it didn’t feel as heavy and all consuming as before. For once, they felt some gratitude towards it, and stepped away from the window to leave their room. Their stomach was growling.