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ROS
(whispering) Um. Statement of Ros Vi- Ros V. regarding ... something. Something I've seen. Something that happened. To me. Original statement given direct from subject, October 3rd, 20026. Statement, um, statement begins.
ROS (STATEMENT)
I know I should be giving this more... officially, maybe, telling it to Juniper, or giving it to her to sort. But I don't want to concern her, they have enough to worry about already, and they probably wouldn't want to hear it anyway. (quietly) And I don't want her to know. (more loudly) But, I'm an archival assistant, collecting information on these - things, is what we do, so I guess I have to make my own statement.
I saw it again. I thought I was distracting myself sufficiently, focusing on what I could, or, should be doing! I had just been lucky lately I guess. I should have known.
I saw it first that night after I left. When I was curled up, tears still dripping down my face. I only peeked out from over my arms because I heard something, maybe a squirrel in the woods or a leaf disturbing the floor around it when it fell. And a figure wearing my brother's face was standing there. And, I don't know, I was young and grieving so... I got up and ran towards it. I thought maybe I was lucky enough it had just been a dream, and they were all still alive.
I should've known better. It wasn't him. It didn't even slip away when I touched it, just stayed there, stagnant with the background. Like it was only a shadow I would never be able to disrupt. In the time it took for me to stumble back to my feet and turn around, though, it was gone.
My tears had come back, harder than before. I thought maybe if I stayed and died there, I would be able to forget it ever happened. And I guess I would have. The dead can't remember anything. I don't know why I got up then, now I guess I could say because I thought dying would be selfish, but I didn't think that back then. I just got up and left. To be honest, whatever else I did that night escapes my memory. Maybe I found a nearby town, maybe I laid myself down just 5 feet away and fell asleep. It's not like it matters now anyway.
But I'd see it, this twisted, warped version of something trying to disguise itself as my family, everywhere. That's what it felt like, at least. Once, for the first time, when I was maybe.. fifteen, I saw it in public. I pointed it out and nobody else could see it. They looked at me so strangely, like I was just making it up for attention. Or sympathy, maybe. Since then, I haven't told anybody. Besides, you, I guess.
When I got to this academy for the first time after years of struggling on my own, I almost forgot about it. I had a purpose and a way to do it, that was all I ever felt like I needed.
Then, out of just the corner of my eye, it was there. Lingering. I was so surprised I jumped back and froze. It took a lot off effort to downplay that one. People don't exactly just.. jump around like that, normally. And it's okay, if everybody around me thinks there's something wrong with me. That's not my biggest concern, not here and certainly not now. It would've been okay.
But, well... I don't know, maybe I got too cocky. Maybe I wasn't doing enough.
One day I was in the Crypt of the Dead. I know I shouldn't have gone alone, but... I was practicing, and I got lost somewhere along the way. I was trying my hardest to ignore the ghosts, and honestly out of the academy I'm probably the best at it, so it wasn't too difficult. Sometimes, though, they just linger for so long it's hard to push yourself away. Several times I found myself staring for longer than I should have.
While I was trying to find my way back home, I was starting to notice a few things that definitely shouldn't be there. Like grass, peeking out of the stones in the pathway beneath my feet. I didn't turn around; I was hoping that I was just finding another way out. The further I kept going, the more paranoid I was getting. It felt like every step I took I'd see some other ghost.
I wished I didn't know them. I wished I could brush them away because the crypt was the only place I'd see their face, like everybody else's ghosts.
Eventually, the path gave itself away completely to soft grass under my shoes. Looking forward, the walls of the tunnel were less pressing and I could see hints of something besides stone. I was relieved, I thought maybe I had found my way out. Creeping closer, though, I didn't recognize the area.
I didn't realize this, not until after, but the ghostly apparitions haunting me seemed to vanish once I entered.
It was beautiful, honestly. I feel a bit guilty to say that I miss it. Within the grass were clovers, assorted flowers (I even saw some purple violets) and the occasional patch of moss. I didn't even stop to think twice about continuing forward, the place felt welcoming, something I can't recall feeling in the recent years of my life.
The more I walked through the garden, I was able to make out blocks of stone in the grass, blocked mostly from sight by a thin layer of lilac bushes. I pushed my way through the flowers, their sweet scent suddenly making me feel a bit nauseous. In the clearing were graves. I was taken aback, but I reasoned through it - this could just be another part of the crypt, after all, it made sense for there to be graves here. I walked up to the closest one, and the text was mostly obscured by moss. The graves were clearly very old.
Leaning down, I was able to get a better view of the words. Written on the grave: (quietly) "Sam Vitality".
I started to panic but tried to beat it down with the logic I'd used before. This time, though, it didn't quite check out. Why would he have a grave here? He wouldn't. There wasn't a reasonable explanation for this.
With a combination of grief and anxiety pulsing through me, I stumbled over to the other grave. "Lyra Vitality". It didn't make any sense. This shouldn't be here. How could I have been unlucky enough to find this? It wasn't here before, was it? How could the graves be so old? It hadn't been that long ago. I just wasn't thinking clearly, every awful thought in my head tumbling out. The next grave I managed to push myself towards only confirmed the awful pattern I had already suspected.
I walked from one grave to the next in a zombie-like manner, pausing only to read the text. This carried on, until the last gravestone in the row. This grave was marked more clearly, clear of the moss present on the previous ones. On the stone was an intricate pattern of butterflies and flowers. Someone had clearly put thought behind the piece. It reminded me of the pattern that was etched starkly in my armor pieces.
That wasn't what unnerved me, though. It could've been a coincidence on it's own. What made me freeze up was what had been written on the grave. "Ros Vitality".
The grave, unlike the others, had fresh overturned ground in front of it. I stared at it. Was something buried beneath there?
I should've left it alone, really. But something pulled me towards it, and I made my hand a spade and started digging through the dirt. My fingers touched something cold and clammy, and I brushed the soil away from it. Staring back at me was my own face.
Bruises dappled the surface of its skin, and this... thing that was not me, but had my face, had clearly suffered some injuries before passing away. I didn't pull my hand away, despite how frightened I was. I simply brushed my own hair out of the face that wasn't my face and I pressed the dirt back overtop.
Numbly, I turned around. I tried to figure out what was going on, where I even was, and whether that was really me. Was I a ghost, too? Was this some sick dream?
I didn't get very far in my train of thought. When my eyes focused on what was behind me, something shifted out of the air. I screamed. I don't know how I could even begin to describe the thing. But my own eyes were in its face, staring back at me. It carried a haunting resemblance to the shadows that trailed after me, with the same expression.
I looked in its eyes and knew I met death.
You must understand, I am not scared of dying. It will come for me anyway; I've been living on nothing but borrowed time. But that is a selfish though, I know. I have things I still need to do. The horror in me, then, came partially from the culmination of what I'd experienced up to that point. But mostly, I knew, If death would come for me, it would come for everybody else I knew. And I didn't want that.
I ran right through it and pushed my way back through the lilacs. I retraced by steps, going the way I'd come from. But where the door I had entered through should be was only a stone wall.
I was suddenly very aware that I was going to die there. I really was. That thought occurred to me at the same time I realized I didn't care. I know that was a selfish thought. I still had work to do.
When I realized that, I slumped down against the stone. It was okay. I said before that I'd made peace with it. That wasn't true. I guess I had been almost there, but now, I was. I accepted it. I was going to die and it was okay.
Not a few seconds later, the wall opened up again. My head hit the ground hard, and for a minute I was too dazed to get up and continue on my way. I didn't understand.
Now, I think whatever was behind whatever it was that happened to me just didn't care to watch me die. Maybe I wasn't sad enough about it.
It didn't matter either way. I was out of that place. I eventually sat up, dusted off my clothes, and continued on the way I came from. I didn't see any ghosts. I didn't see them, I didn't see it. The path was much, much shorter than I had remembered it being and I returned quickly to the crypt I was used to seeing.
The route out came easier to me, and where I had been lost before, I quickly found my way to the exit. Anxiety still hung in the back of my stomach even though I'd left the place behind. What if I had simply traded my own life for my friends? So I walked quickly, to the Archives, where I should've been the whole time.
Juniper was there, sorting through something on the table. I had never been more relieved to see her.
Clearly she didn't feel the same way. They stopped me in my tracks and asked me what was wrong. I didn't understand why they had been asking me. I had been sure to hide any expression on my face that may have given me away and had gotten almost all of the dirt off of myself.
I told them I was fine and asked her why she had asked. They gave me a strange look before saying it was nothing, it didn't matter. She had that same tone of voice she'd use when I lie to her. I knew something must have been wrong.
Quickly, I hurried to the bathroom in the front of the building. I was just planning to take a breather in there, but something caught my face in the mirror. The same bruises of the thing in the grave were pressed into my face, purple and gray.
(door creaks open)
JUNIPER:
Ros?
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