[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vQOmUnK.png[/img][/center] [color=LightBlue]"...haa....it wasn't easy, you know...."[/color] she tells me, her head lolling from one side to another in a state of drug-addled delirium. [color=LightBlue]"Ingredients hard to come by....heee, ohhh....especially here. But I did it, Rachel. My little black bird, my, aahh, my Raven. I [i]did[/i] it. I, ah.......I've got it all in place. Almost....almost done."[/color] Arella Roth, age 34. Admitted to the East Los Angeles Mental Health Center two years ago for displaying acute symptoms of schizophrenia. She had been a member since age fifteen of the Children of Azarath, a new-age religion (the board is too polite to call them a cult) that believes in bizarre mixtures of occult practices, with the intent of contacting and eventually ascending to a higher plane of reality. A true believer in the Azar and their otherworldly teachings, Arella began taking psychedelic drugs and participating in elaborate rituals-- many of which were explicitly sexual in nature-- at age sixteen. At age seventeen, she began a brief but passionate romance with another member of the Children of Azarath, a wealthy and powerful man named Sebastian Blood. At age eighteen, she had me. [color=MediumPurple]"What did you do this time, Mom?"[/color] I ask through the phone on the other side of the plexiglass. [color=MediumPurple]"Align the vibrational frequencies of the equatorial ley-lines to make sure I had a happy birthday? Because I didn't. Or did you project with your third-eye into the dimensional weave to send me positive thoughts again? Because I haven't had any of those in--"[/color] Mom begins to laugh, barely more of a laugh than a cry, and I hate myself for saying those things as soon as I say them. Her mental health had been on a slow decline for as long as I can remember-- sudden bouts of depression or anxiety attacks, night terrors so bad her screaming would keep me awake in the other room. Then she started seeing things, "shadow men with six eyes," following us around. It was frightening, then it was dangerous. And now, it's just sad. [color=LightBlue]"I, aaaah, I asked the Azar,"[/color] she starts to say, a vacant smile on her face, [color=LightBlue]"I....I asked them to.....to send you an angel. Someone to protect my sweet little black-bird from......well......."[/color] The Children of Azarath weren't any help with my Mom's condition. They first tried their own remedies, lots of crystals and incense and so much mystical bullshit when all she really needed was a doctor and some rest. By the time they sought actual psychiatrists, the damage was done, and all Mom could ever think of was more magical solutions to the problems. More magic, more crazy. More crazy, more magic. Over and over, further down the slippery slope until it became a cliff, and she wound up all the way down here at the bottom. [color=MediumPurple]"Mom, I've read the same books you have,"[/color] I tell her. [color=MediumPurple]"The Journals of Coman, the Great Door, all of it. And the Azar don't have 'angels.'"[/color] [color=LightBlue]"Oh, I know,"[/color] she nods, [color=LightBlue]"but they can find someone who does and get one from them. But she'll come soon, and you'll never have to face it alone, my little Raven."[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"Don't call me that,"[/color] I all but spit. [color=MediumPurple]"and face what?"[/color] Mom turns her head away. [color=LightBlue]"The darkness, Rachel. You'll never have to face it alone, like.......like....."[/color] She begins to sob, and I feel that burning ember of resentment again. The Children of Azarath, their stupid empty mysticism, their drugs and emotional manipulation, they did this to her. It isn't fair. Not to her. And not to me. [color=LightBlue]"Oh! I nearly forgot!"[/color] she suddenly says, the surprise shaking her body. [color=LightBlue]"The, aah, the thing I've been working on for you. It's, ah, it's nearly done, black-bird. I, ah, I'm nearly ready. For the ritual, you see."[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"What? No, please, Mom,"[/color] I hear myself begging, [color=MediumPurple]"No more rituals, no more spells, no more sigils or scrolls or crystal matrices or Tarot decks or any of it! It's [i]ruined[/i] your life, it's made you....sick. Just rest for a while, and take your meds, and--"[/color] [color=LightBlue]"Rachel,"[/color] she stops me, [color=LightBlue]"I know I'm not....well. I know I haven't been....been what I should have been for you. But this is the only way I know. I can give you something to protect you. Something to give you the strength you'll need. Something you can use to [i]fight[/i] him! Please, just....let me give you that. It's......it's all I can do. And....and I promise, no more spells or magic or foolishness after. This is the last one."[/color] [color=MediumPurple]".....the last one?"[/color] I ask. [color=MediumPurple]"Mom.....you're not going to....to hurt yourself, are you?"[/color] She starts to shake her head. [color=LightBlue]"I....I never wanted to hurt anyone,"[/color] she says, before she begins sobbing again. [color=LightBlue]"I n-never.....never wanted t-t-to....."[/color] [color=MediumPurple]"Mom? MOM?"[/color] I start to say, as a pair of orderlies approach to take her back to her room. She stands, and the orderlies suddenly release her. [color=LightBlue]"Rachel?"[/color] She looks at me like someone who has woken up from a long and frightful dream. Like someone who's been lost in a fog who can finally see clearly. This doesn't happen. I know what happens. The orderlies take her back to her room, where she has somehow snuck in a shard of broken glass. She completes her ritual that night. I never see her again. Instead, she's looking me in the eye, the thoughtful, caring, powerful, and completely sane mother I never had. [color=LightBlue]"I'm so sorry, Rachel,"[/color] she says. [color=LightBlue]"I never meant for any of this. But you need protection. You need strength. You need power and weapons for what is coming. And in my state, I only knew of one way I could provide them to you."[/color] The grimy tile floor, the plain white plaster walls, the awful fluorescent lighting, all fades away. Everything except for the plexiglass sheet separating me from her, now stretching out as far as I can see. [color=MediumPurple]"....what? Mom, no, this is--....you're not---.....what's happening?"[/color] [color=LightBlue]"I could not resist him,"[/color] Arella Roth says, her voice heavy with shame, [color=LightBlue]"And now you must face him. But I promise you, you will not face him alone."[/color] A black wind whips around us, wisps of smoke and shadow becoming arms and tendrils of darkness that whirl and grab and claw at me. [color=MediumPurple]"Mom?! Wait, no, what's--"[/color] [color=LightBlue]"You will not face him alone, my Raven,"[/color] she repeats, her voice drowning out in the deafening black wind. [color=LightBlue]"Remember the keys to open the Great Door. The three sigil words to unleash the Soul....."[/color] The grasping, groping, choking tendrils of darkness are suddenly chains. I am no longer floating in the void, but chained to a table in a basement somewhere in Hollywood. My mother is gone. In her place is the man I had been told was my father. [color=Crimson]"Your brood-mare of a mother is just as wrong now as she was then,"[/color] he laughs, throwing back his head, which in turn opens up the blood red cloak to reveal his body covered in runes, sigils carved into his naked flesh. [color=Crimson]"I was merely a vessel. Your father.....your [i]true[/i] father.....wields power far beyond your comprehension. Power which he has promised [i]me[/i], in return for opening the door to this paltry world."[/color] [i]"HAIL THE DESTROYER!"[/i] a chant erupts from the rows of hooded figures behind him. [i]"HAIL THE DEFILER! HAIL THE DESPOILER! HAIL THE DOMINATOR! HAIL TRIGON!"[/i] [color=Crimson]"You, my dear,"[/color] Sebastian says, letting his robe fall to the ground as I struggle against my chains, [color=Crimson]"Are born of two worlds, and in so being your flesh and spirit form the bridge between both. Tonight, I claim both of them as my own, and will use you to bring my master's reign on Earth!"[/color] [i]"HAIL THE DESTROYER! HAIL THE DEFILER! HAIL THE DESPOILER! HAIL THE DOMINATOR! HAIL TRIGON!"[/i] [color=Crimson]"Don't squirm, girl,"[/color] he says as he approaches, a dagger in one hand, his weapon of a completely different kind in the other. [color=Crimson]"Before this is over, I promise you'll learn to enjoy it."[/color] An explosion. Green fire blasts Sebastian apart, reduces the hooded figures to mist. This doesn't happen. I know what happens-- or I [i]think[/i] I do. Black shadows erupt from my body, tossing Sebastian and his followers aside and allowing me to escape. That's what really happens. Instead, they are obliterated by bolts of brilliant green light, and the darkness that envelopes me isn't a cruel, cold void. It's....everything. It's a sea of possibilities, unknowable depths holding secrets and wonders. In that infinite black, points of light emerge. Stars, nebulae, whole galaxies begin to glitter and play. The darkness that surrounds me, that [i]is[/i] me, it's.... it's the space between limitless wonders, that holds them and keeps them afloat. Just as the brightness of these lights puts the darkness into sharp relief, so does the darkness make the light seem that much brighter. It's.....it's the most beautiful thing I've ever dreamed. Distantly, I hear a voice in the glittering dark, an echo from somewhere I can't sense. [sub][color=Orange][i]"You need not fear, Friend Rachel. The flames of Starfire burn bright. And no shadow shall ever smother them out."[/i][/color][/sub] I feel warmth, and comfort, not just surrounding me, but embracing me, and I allow myself to drift, at play in infinity. I have the best sleep of my entire life.