Aftermath: In Darkness

In the darkness, a seeping cold had taken hold of every molecule and emotion. It was beyond temperature or state of matter. Internal thoughts were hollow and unrefined. Spoken words echoed in muted rings. Scent was repressed to a nearly nonexistent flicker. There was nothing above or below, yet they were not sinking.

Even though the calamity and cataclysm was over, Tomita felt nothing but agony. His physical form felt as though he had been run through a paper shredder and then strapped back together. Blood was caked around his mouth and eyelids, and the ringing of tinnitus was becoming an unending scream. But it was the burning pull within his chest that concerned him the most.

A pit had formed in his soul, and his spirit felt as though it was a weight tied to a rope that had been thrown into an never-ending well. Deeper and deeper it fell, pulling his being inward with every second as his heart rate rose and rose. But this was not his pain and he knew it. He knew it was Izhari.

She was collapsed forward on her knees, clinging to her staff like it was the only thing tethering her to this world. Trembles had become tremors, and though her back was to Tomita, he could sense her silent weeping. It had been minutes since the extinction of her people, but she had not moved or spoken.

Tomita, finally understanding the scope of her sorrow and hate, was uncertain of what to do. Memories of his wife crying in dejection and disappointment flashed in his mind and filled him with shame. He was never a good husband. Had he ever even been a good friend to someone? Had he ever been good at any form of emotional support?

Those fears drifted through his soul like damp incense smoke as he watched his master sob to herself.

Her claws had retracted, and the booming voice had been reduced to the broken sniffles and coughs of a small, fragile being that seemed alone in insurmountable despair. Then she wretched and lurched forward, and the screams began.

Her anguished release was bloody and high-pitched, like the sound of a butter knife striking teeth. As it built in her throat and exploded upwards, she fell onto her heels and let her head tilt up to the heavens. Exhausted arms collapsed against sweat-drenched sides and shaking paws locked open against the void. The noise was louder than any scream that Tomita had ever heard, and it only built.

After the first sustained burst, it continued into an even longer screeching wail that bled into a hysterical sob. Tears formed in Tomita’s eyes and slowly slid down his face as he witnessed her spirit breaking.

Each sob became shorter and more uncertain, as grief and rage battled for traumatic superiority within Izhari’s heart. Soon the screams became shouts that became roars, and suddenly Izhari’s once limp paws became fists. Before Tomita could fully see what was happening, Izhari was violently striking herself in the head with more force than ever before.

“No! N-no stop…” Tomita choked as he crawled towards her.

He wanted to comfort her. To stop her. To help.

His hand met her arm and tried to stop the blows, but a concussive blast sent him falling backward onto his back.

“No don’t touch me! Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me!!!!!” She sobbed as her claws extended and tore into her brow and cheek.

“Izhari no!” Tomita cried out as she hunched forward and pulled her paws down until blood dripped from her face.

Another roar erupted as she clenched her eyes shut. Tomita tried to rise but another concussion pushed him further away.

“I am wrath. I am filth. I am shame. I am waste. I am a beast full of only tragedy. I AM ABANDONED!!” Izhari howled into her hands as she shook her head in rejection and acknowledgment.

“No! Izhari I beg you to l-l-listen to your familiar! You are capable of kindness and gentleness! That hate was not all that you are! You are my manager!” Tomita shouted as he crawled against the bursts.

“No no no no no no no no! No!! NOOOOO!!!” She wailed as she fell limp once more.

The concussions stopped and Tomita raced forward. For the first time in maybe his entire life, he was faced with a wound that he wanted to help heal. All those years neglecting his ex-wife’s quiet grief. A lifetime of suppressing his own broken psyche. Years of abuse from his father and superiors. None of it had ever been enough to warrant any form of compassionate action from him. But for her, he finally wanted to be there for someone.

Even if it wasn’t perfect, he wanted to be there.

His hand met her back and she flinched in disgust, but it was not towards him. In Izhari’s mind, she recalled the beast she had just been. The stories of how she was a child of inbreeding that was cast aside by a race that aided the world’s great destroyer. As she felt the unbearable weight of her oneness and measured the scope of her existence, she felt nothing but disdain.

But his hand was warm, and firm in its soft support.

His voice was rough and gravelly from exhaustion, but it was kind.

Stuttered words carried resolute thoughts.

“Izhari, I-I …I am here for you,” was all he said as his palm cradled her trembling shoulders.

Without realizing it, Izhari collapsed and fell into his arms as misery shattered her body with a finally strike, and sorrow consumed her. His hands caught her, and they were not shaking anymore. There in his steady, nurturing embrace, Izhari allowed herself to be unmade by tragedy.

As she wept, Tomita pulled her close and surrendered himself to being nothing but a buttress and support against the terror of The Void’s empty embrace. They had to leave. But for now, they would remain there until Izhari’s sorrow subsided enough to move.