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" O world, you torture chamber,
oh! stay with your lamentations
in this world of sorrow,
it is heaven that I desire,
death shall bring me there.
Komm, selge Ruh! "
—
Blood pooled around him, escaping his body just as his memories and any sense of self he had left. His name, if it could ever be considered one, was stripped of his knowledge like how his flesh tore off, giving way to exposed bone. Those he held dear to him, the things he could love most—forgotten. Forgotten like they were never there.
What remained of his mind was left to rot in a bygone world.
But—despite everything, buried deep, a familiar spark remained.
—
"Doe, this is pointless."
No matter how many times 1x1x1x1 spat those same words at John Doe, he never budged, and—seemingly, he never would. No matter how much It shoved Doe away, yelled in his face, hissed insults at him, nothing got under his skin. Not for long enough, at least.
To Doe—those words never mattered.
What was important to him was that 1x1x1x1 rarely ever missed a day in the flower field, taking the time It called "precious" to sit next to him. That It showed up at all. That's what mattered. No words could outweigh actions.
Every moment spent in this field, no matter what they did—whether it was sitting in silence and basking in each other's presence or fierce rough-housing that sent John Doe growling out laughter and 1x1x1x1 scowling in offense—it was enough for him. No matter how "pointless" 1x1x1x1 said this was.
"Then why come?" John Doe asked, giving 1x1x1x1 that same unmoving expression, a smile tightly screwed onto his face with eyes so oblivious.
Every time he asked, It never answered.
It let out a low grumble, unintelligible words muttered under Its breath that made Doe cock his head. But It only turned away, staring daggers into the flowers before It, arm tensing as if It was resisting running Its claws against them, just as Doe did as a peaceful, idle motion.
—
All that lay beneath him was the cold, barren floor. The feeling of rough wood against his claws as he lay, making the disconcerting silence that hung over him no easier to bare.
No flowers to comb through, to feel the soft petals of, to take in their ethereal scent until he was left sneezing from the pollen. It was worth every second.
This new life—he couldn't accommodate, no matter how much he tried. It was all he'd ever known, but his own body felt too cold, like it was a corpse his spirit was merely inhabiting. Every breath he took felt too sharp, piercing deep in his lungs which showed through the tears in his flesh.
No feeling felt like his own, no face felt familiar. There was nothing he could grasp, nothing he could see in a light brighter than the bleak life he was forced to wake up into.
"Doe, are you awake?"
I never heard anything more than that.
It repeated every time I tried to shy away from the suffering, subjecting myself to the loneliness of the floorboards I am chained to. It was easier, calmer, but the pain that pulsed in my chest never subsided. I could never get away from it.
I don't remember what I said or what I did, I only felt my arm lifting, then a sharp growl as my body was dragged forcefully back to the floor, as if the cold insisted on keeping me.
I heard no more, the silhouette had gone, and I was left with a distasteful wooden bowl with a foul stench. I didn't drink from it.
But after the figure abandoned my corner, that's when I watched. I learned to always watch.
When it leaves, it opens a door only a few feet away from where I sleep. The door is only ever cracked wide enough to slip another bowl inside the foreign space, I couldn't see what was inside.
Within mere seconds, disorder broke out—unfamiliar faces whirling around me and scrambling for a safer corner of the room, all while what was beyond the door broke out into a war cry, the harsh sounds of wood cracking and something slamming against the door as it was desperately shoved shut.
The mayhem echoed in my head for longer than anything else did.
The shouts buzzed in my ears, lingering like an uncomfortable ringing. But—oddly—it wasn't uncomfortable.
Not at all.
—
1x1x1x1 huffed, letting Its gaze drag across the spread of hills in the distant view, adorned with plenty more flowers of every color imaginable.
It wasn't pretty or nice, none of this was. At the most, it was tolerable.
It didn't have an answer for Doe's question.
As dim rays of sunlight shed through the cracks in the night sky, 1x1x1x1 could only stare at what they illuminated and ponder. Glare at what would be considered a beauty in any mortal's eyes. It never would understand what Doe saw in it. It could best think of—maybe he felt dragged here just as It did.
But the dull noise of wildlife that hummed around them, the slow rise and fall of 1x1x1x1's chest, it wasn't an awful feeling. It would just remain tolerable.
In Its daze, It barely realized Doe's hand moving again, claws working in a struggled motion, intertwining stems of flowers together with as much care as he could muster. His typical practice. It frowned.
—
"Doe, are you awake?"
Every day repeated and ran together as a blended mix of one, yet each morning felt new and foreign.
The bowl would be offered, I'd have a new expression of disgust. I didn't drink it. Maybe I lashed out, said something I didn't mean. Or maybe I didn't say anything at all. It was hard to tell.
What followed—the chaos, I heard it again as the same figure left my corner. I remembered what it sounded like in a distant memory.
The bright serpent crawling on the walls and hissing wildly, the small and red dinosaur-like being shying away from the shouts, the tall bird flinching back with a screech, I couldn't pay any mind to it. The noises, the figures around me all felt too far away to reach.
Except for the heart of the mayhem, the unrelenting fury that was overwhelming even from the other side of the wall. Overwhelming even though it never acknowledged me.
For long after it quieted, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sealed door, but I couldn't make sense of why.
I listened intently as the sounds of its remaining frustration echoed. The crack of shattered glass against the wood floor, low growls barely intelligible.
Maybe some part of me wanted to feel bad for the being trapped behind the door, but all I could do was stare and hope its sounds wouldn't die to silence. It felt as if my lungs began to flourish, its own energy bleeding into my body, like water offered to a wilting flower.
I lay against the wall and I lay forever, hoping the sound would come again to wake me.
A flower bed in front of the door, waiting for water to seep from beneath it.
—
"Why do you?" 1x1x1x1 would always ask back. Doe learned not to answer either, because It never gave Its own.
Instead—he laughed, quiet, exchanging a glance with It for only a moment before continuing his pitiful work on his half-mangled flower stems. 1x1x1x1 huffed, but It couldn't retort.
"I can't understand what brings you to this . . . place," It grumbled, though Its tone was lighter than usual. "It's nothing special, and yet I see you here every day."
Doe paused for a moment, blinking down at his palm, crumpled flower petals falling back down onto the sunlit grass. For a moment he frowned, but then thought.
". . . You always come," he answered, voice an impossible mixture between gravely and airy, as it always was. "I come, because... Nice, peace."
1x1x1x1 shrugged, ignoring Doe's first point with a faint snarl. "It's not 'nice,' the sun burns My eyes and the wildlife is too loud."
Its frown tightened as Doe only chuckled.
"Learn to enjoy," he suggested with a tilt of his head.
With that, he leaned to his side, reaching over to loosely secure his pitifully mangled flower crown onto 1x1x1x1's head.
—
The world felt quiet and bleak as if dark walls were closing in on my mind just as they did my hardly rising chest.
With obscured vision, I couldn't make out the patterns of what once took place around me. I couldn't feel, I could barely breathe.
I longed for the sound of its voice, it gave a feeling so foreign in my chest, yet closer than I'd ever felt to life. I longed for the sound of its destruction, the buzzing that rang in my head enough to drown out every frustration.
I longed for an answer from behind the door, hoping the weak scrapes of my claws would be enough to draw attention to myself. I longed for an answer to the cries I tried to replicate, but the silence only pressed, digging deeper into my lungs.
—
1x1x1x1 jerked away with a sharp growl, shoving Doe back with only slightly more force than intended.
Its scowl deepened as It sat up on Its knees, Its arm daring to drift up towards the flower crown, but It quickly blinked back at Doe. "You always do this, you treat Me like some sort of—joke!" It hissed, eyes narrowing in displeasure, not looking away from Doe for a moment as if he might rise from the ground and shove It back. Shaking Its head, It added, "Enjoyment—love of any kind is futile, when will you finally recognize that?"
Doe just huffed, letting himself sit up slowly. His expression didn't falter, his brows didn't knit, he stared at 1x1x1x1 with that same oblivious look.
"Doesn't have to," he reasoned, tone level compared to 1x1x1x1's hostility. "Want you to see the good."
1x1x1x1 scoffed, shoulders loosening ever so slightly.
"One day you'll learn that I don't care."
Doe shrugged, smile widening.
Without another word, It rose to Its feet, not bothering to give Doe a final glance before It turned and headed for the field's trail that lead to their cabin. A loose golden petal glided off of Its crown, catching Doe's eye as he, too, stood to follow.
—
Claws dug into the floorboards as I stared up at the door with clouded eyes, leaning my head against the wall for any potential sign of life or a voice that could be heard.
I wanted to lay, to rest and give up this corpse of a body. Why did I persist?
Maybe I have come to learn . . .
My "love" is futile, Your "love" is futile,
in a world so bleak and treacherous. in a world so bleak and treacherous.
How can I find the light, How can you find the light,
when the only truth that lies ahead is darkness? when the only truth that lies ahead is darkness?
Once I finally close my eyes,
will it be you that lay beside me? Once more.
It would be there tomorrow.
He would be there tomorrow.