Release

The wind up this high was eerie in an almost enchanting way. It flowed around Marnie's body in a sort of caress, whipping his curls into a strawberry-blonde storm.
Beautiful.

Dangerous.

Exactly how high was he? Marnie didn't really know. What he did know is that after walking through the forest for a while on the Other Side, a remarkably tall skyscraper appeared. A skyscraper which he was now on the roof of, staring over the edge at a perfectly circular clearing in the trees below.

Even though he was above the trees, the ever-present fog still clung to the edges of everything. It also completely obscured the ground, leaving Marnie to guess what might be beneath him. He suddenly understood how people who did what he was about to do felt, at least to some extent. This must be why daredevils lived for the thrill of risking their life, and why suicide required conviction.

How lucky Marnie was to get a taste of such freedom.

When he could no longer tell if the rushing sound that filled his ears was the wind or his own racing heart, he took a very deep and very slow breath. Then, without hesitation, Marnie stepped forward over the edge…

WSSSHHHHH!!!

As soon as he began to freefall, it felt like all of the white noise from the back of his mind suddenly flowed out and surrounded him instead. Nothing but a deafening roar as his heart leapt from his chest to his throat. Before long, the pressure of falling made his body incapable of moving — similar to drowning, his muscles strained themselves to the point that they gave up and relaxed, letting nature carry him away helplessly.

It was thrilling.
Exhilarating!

It made Marnie want to throw up.

Feeling his body move at uncomfortable speeds and watching the ground rocket closer and closer felt like it was unraveling his mind. All of this took place in a mere handful of seconds before the fog parted and the ground grew so close he could smell it.

Then everything halted.

All of Marnie's senses went black, shutting off like a light.

Normally, dying this way, one would expect to hear the crunch of bones shattering, or the squelch of flesh splattering upon collision with the ground. Marnie's brain was expecting that, instinctively. But those are all sensations for the observer.

To the victim — to Marnie — the end was instant and anticlimactic.

However, this wasn't truly Marnie's end. Laying on the ground, completely unscathed, he opened his blue eyes to find none other than Chez kneeling over him.

“Shay… I figured you'd find me,” Marnie teased, smirking. Chez regarded him with his usual grin of enigmatic intent, sleek black tail waving methodically behind him.

“Always,” his grin widened as he offered Marnie a hand to help him up. “I see you needed to up your ante. Have casual thrill seeking and even drowning become too mundane for your twisted little mind?”

“Ugh… Shut up,” Marnie chuckled despite himself, accepting the help up off the ground. “I needed something that would build my courage a bit.”

“Sure, sure,” Chez sounded unconvinced, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Is that what that apothecary prescribed? Honestly, to think someone as withdrawn as you would be interested in building courage.”

Marnie didn't exactly remember ever telling Chez about Kaede, but that curiosity quickly evaporated. The creature's teasing always left him frazzled, in an almost addictive way.

“There's this…guy. At a gym,” he explained, beginning to lead Chez to the elevator that had previously taken him to the top of the building.

“A crush?” Chez chortled.

“No,” the daydreamer quickly corrected him. “I just got a membership to this gym I never go to, and the guy who can cancel it for me is always super enthusiastic. It's hard to say no to him! So every time I try to cancel the damned thing, I end up leaving instead.”

Chez hummed in a way that could be perceived as either thoughtful or mocking.

“What you need isn't courage, then, Marnie. Instead, you should try growing a backbone.”

“Tch. What's the difference?” Marnie rolled his eyes dismissively, about to enter the elevator. However, Chez pranced in front of him and blocked the door.

“The difference, little rabbit,” Chez answered, with a glint in his eye and a flourish of his tail. “Is that one drives you to act, while the other demands you follow through on those actions.”

Marnie sighed. He knew by now that fighting Chez would lead to nothing but more frustration, so he merely gave in.

“Right… Fine, then. Not like I can argue that. So what do you think I should do to grow a backbone?”

“Certainly not through reckless thrill seeking,” Chez stated plainly. After a brief moment of contemplation, he took Marnie's hand and led them away from the building. Farther into the forest and fog. “Think — Imagine what would be impossible to pursue to its end.”

Impossible to pursue… What a ridiculous thought. Typical of Chez to demand something so unusual, but feeling he had no other choice, Marnie contemplated it. He watched the fog swirl around them as they trotted along, periwinkle trees as far as he could see. They were almost mesmerizing… Hypnotic… Suddenly thoughts started flowing to him from the recesses of his mind, as if being drawn out with a syringe.

Memories. Emotions. Fragments of sounds and images. Marnie had to forcefully slow them down and force them through the filter of the thought:

What was something I could never force myself to fulfill?

It felt a little like he was trying to force his mind through a funnel, but it was worth it. Marnie was unexpectedly flooded with a memory that was so long forgotten he could barely believe it ever existed.

A cold bathroom.
His small, trembling hands.

The glint of metal.
Heart racing like it was trying to free itself from its ribcage jail cell.

It was too much. It hurt. Marnie was about to call for Chez to help him, but before he knew it—

“Heh. Good job, little rabbit. You've burrowed farther than I imagined possible.”

Without rhyme or reason, everything stopped. The pain in Marnie's head, the racing thoughts, and even their footsteps ceased. When he could finally process their surroundings again, he found that they'd somehow ended up in the exact same bathroom from his memory.

This filled Marnie with ice cold horror.

“This is… W-why…?” he breathed barely audible words, struggling to process the sight before him.

“Ah, so you recognize this place,” Chez observed curiously. “I see… Then, do you know what it is you must do?”

Marnie gulped. He knew. He knew so clearly that it made his stomach flip.

“I wish I didn't…”

Slowly, he stepped forward towards the porcelain sink. Everything felt unnervingly familiar — an immaculate replica of his childhood bathroom, from the cobalt colored tiles on the floor and shower, right down to the monogrammed towels furnishing it.

It felt strange, seeing his current reflection in the dusty mirror. While everything else in the room felt suspended in time, only the mirror looked neglected, as if it had been sitting in an attic corner for years, long forgotten. The film of dirt on its surface made Marnie's face appear cloudy and distorted, leaving only his raw fear to shine through.

When he was close enough to see the blue orbs of his eyes shining back at him like milky seas, a glimmer caught his attention…

It was a kitchen knife.

Sitting right upon the sink, exactly where he'd left it.

Why did he leave it there…?

Why… Couldn't he…

“Right,” Marnie's voice was quiet, and finite. “I was too afraid to go through with it back then… Like I always am…”

“Perhaps it's time to let go of all that fear,” Chez urged softly.

Marnie hesitated. Everything felt so quiet — so still. Yet, his head was filled with static, growing louder and louder. Erasing his thoughts. Only one voice emerged through the din.

Just do it…

Just fucking do it…!

Tightly gripping the handle of the kitchen knife, Marnie raised the blade with one arm and rigidly held his other over the sink. With one swift motion, in less than seconds, he slashed the blade across his wrist.

All at once, everything in Marnie's body relaxed. Like a terrible release, he felt as if his very being was getting drained.

Emptied.
His flesh split with unimaginable smoothness. His consciousness was slipping away like sand. As fog crept into the world around him, what Marnie watched pour from his wound and stain his skin wasn't blood. Instead, it looked like a single word repeated infinitely to the point of mimicking liquid…

F E A R