If you came across a fork in the road, which path would you choose?
Morning came. My hair seemed to have grown some since yesterday; one could consider it to be a boy cut. Honestly, if I could I’d keep it as short as I could. It’s a pain to wash it at its fullest. Unfortunately, keeping it short requires me to cut it almost daily, and that was just as inconvenient.
I hurt Ian a while back. I nearly got him killed. I wanted him dead. What’s more, I wanted to take a little bit of his pleasure with me before I murdered him.
What happened to me that night? It spooked me to the bone I could even do such a thing. I even tried to imagine Ian, seeing if there really was something that caught my interest. Nothing. He was a swell guy and everything, but just as I thought, I felt nothing beyond that.
And it pissed me off. That night I turned into a murderous little slut, and I liked it. Something made me want him. Something made me try to kill him. And then when I came to, all I felt was wave after wave of regret. What was hiding inside of me that would cause me to do such a thing? I’ve never been raped in my life (Lord have mercy if someone even dared try), but after this experience I can honestly say this is as close as it gets. I didn’t even know what I was anymore.
Sienna heard the news. It’s easy to find out from all the gossip going around. You try to kill the president and everyone notices. And from all the things she had heard, she was just as hurt as I was right now.
She entered the room shortly after I awoke. She didn’t try to be confrontational, but I could see it in her eyes: she was heartbroken.
Standing there in awkward silence, it was her who finally gained the courage to talk.
“How are you doing?” she asked solemnly.
I couldn’t stare directly into her eyes. I was ashamed at what I had done. “I’m fine,” I half lied, “at least physically.”
“I didn’t think you like…” she had a hard time getting the words out. “What I meant was- I mean, I know you’re a girl but-“
“It’s not like that, Sienna,” I emphatically replied, “There isn’t anything between us.”
“But you wouldn’t have gone through with it if you didn’t at least find some interest with them,” she believed. “I mean, it’s okay…if you like guys and everything.”
“I don’t know anything anymore,” I told her straight up. “Ever sense I was mind raped all I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake, Sienna. I guess…I really don’t know what I am anymore.”
“Did you ever love me, Scott?” She said bluntly.
“Sienna,” I said, the guilt getting bigger and bigger. “I’ve always cared about you. You know that!”
“I said, did you love me?” She repeated. This was not the time for me to find answers to such difficult questions, my mind was noodles at this point. I wanted to say yes, but could I truly believe that?
“…I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just don’t know.”
She stood there, and after a moment to let it sink in she left, not even willing to say goodbye. Whatever pain I was feeling, I knew Sienna’s was five times worse. It was as if I cheated on her, and my conscious would never forgive myself for it.
Do you really want to know? I heard a voice in my head say. Do you really want to know who you truly are?
I wasn’t going to fall for it this time. This…thing wouldn’t get a hold of me, not again.
Leave me alone, you freak! I screamed within the walls of my brain.
That wasn’t very nice, the voice replied. Trust me when I say I am not the one who harmed you so. If I would, I wouldn’t be so deliberate in my contacting of you. Mind control requires subtlety, after all.
Then what is it you want!? I asked, not trusting him in the slightest.
What do you want, Scott Ryan? He countered. So long you have lived in the dark, trying to deny everything you’ve been through. Where has that gotten you?
You want to torture me again? I yelled in protest.
Why would I torture you, he continued, when you can do that so well yourself?
Get out of my head! I demanded for the final time.
My child, It continued, we want the same thing. I too, want to see the perpetrator of these crimes, from the Purge, to your very own manipulation, destroyed. Am I correct in saying you seek something similar?
He’s now speaking my language. But I still had to watch myself. I couldn’t be caught with my guard down again.
Suddenly one of the nurses came in; his eyes stone cold, as if he wasn’t consciously aware of what was going on. That meant…oh God, he was possessed!
But what happened next surprised me. He reached into the pocket and pulled out the keys to my handcuffs and unlocked them. I stood there in shock.
Consider that as a sign of good will, the voice stated. What you wish to do afterwards is up to you. However, I’m sure no one would appreciate your sudden freedom.
So basically you’ve given me two choices, I stated.
That’s right, he replied. Live as a refugee, or find me and perhaps recover what’s left of the life you’ve built…and perhaps a little more.
The choice was simple, although I didn’t like it. And where exactly are you located?
Oh don’t worry, He told me. Just listen to your subconscious. You will know.
Suddenly I could feel a certain urge- a desire, to go to certain place west of here. I couldn’t deny it- I just had to go.
Looks like he had me wrapped around his finger, although this time it was under my approval. I followed my feelings. I just hoped this wasn’t a trap. And I really hoped I can finally get some answers.
This place was calling for me. I could feel it, just like it said it would.
There’s a place in Indiana call Lake Wauwasee. Back in the day it was one of the most beautifully kept up lake, blue as the eyes could see. Now it’s but a swamp. Already I felt uncomfortable. It seemed as if the impulse within me wore off. This was the destination. If there was something out here, if I could finally get answers to what I’m up against, then I couldn’t turn around now.
“Hello?” I shouted aloud, hoping the echoes could reach somebody. All it really did was disturb the local wildlife as ravens began to flutter about aimlessly when heard its resonance.
“Hello? Anyone?” Every minute of silence only made me panic further. Usually I wasn’t afraid of being by myself. Anyone who would try something on little ol’ me would wind up regretting it. But I didn’t have any knowledge of what I was facing, and I could already tell that these aren’t any ordinary people.
Then I heard a voice. No, I read a voice…from inside my head. It was gravelly and monotone in character, and devoid of any character.
“So you have finally come, Scott Ryan,” it said, “or is it Saoirse Ryan?”
Frightened I immediately turned to instinctively run and hide, only to crash into the thing that summoned me here. It looked like the most disturbing creature I have ever witnessed- like some twisted swamp monster/squid hybrid. His face looked like a mollusks with his eyes sticking out like a pair of antennae. It looked at me intensely, making me fear my life.
“W-what are you?” I nervously asked, trying to stay under control.
He didn’t even respond. All he would do was praise my emotional distress. “Yessssss,” he hissed, “I can see why ‘he’ is so enchanted by you. The fear, the anger, the self-loathing- your soul is ripe with anguish!”
“What the?” I began, not believing what I just heard.
“We Mythos aren’t like normal Wyld,” he explained. “We are chaos incarnate. There is no rhyme or reason for what we do. But he- the very one who manipulated the fabric of your being, he is different.”
“What do you mean by different?” I inferred.
“Unlike most Mythos,” he explained, “His motives hold purpose. The one I speak of is Mabus.”
“Mabus?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he continued, “Named after the third evil of Nostradamus’s quatrains. He is beyond most Mythos in that he actually receives nourishment from the pain he causes.”
“So all of this…” I began to draw my own conclusions.
“War is a great vehicle of pain and sorrow,” he answered for me. “The seeds which were once planted here have now gained the attention of my brothers and sisters. Mabus is revered amongst my kind. Those he frees as well as those who willingly join him further participate in fanning these flames. They wish not to see this end, up to the point of directly manipulating events in order to maintain this bloodshed. That was what occurred in you. That’s why you nearly succeeded in killing that man.
I understood it all now…these freaks were making a mess of my mind, and most likely many others. But I don’t get it- why did that matter to him?
“Why are you telling me this?” I demanded to know.
“What fun is it to cause chaos when the very ones you affect eventually die?” He replied. “And even for him, how can one feed if they continuously kill each other? Manipulating emotions comes with a price. One may not know how far someone may go to accomplish their goals, such as vengeance, or domination. It takes but one misevaluated step.”
“So what is it you want from me?” I asked, getting to the point.
“I want you to fight them, fight the one they call Jackson Wells,” he said.
“I…” I couldn’t even begin to come with the words, “I can’t…I don’t know why. He killed Miriam! He killed my love! And yet…I run away.”
“And your passive nature is no accident,” he informed me. He began to put a slimy tentacle on my face. It made me shiver, and made me uncomfortable, but I couldn’t move, no matter how much I wanted to try.
“Yes, you are impressive. You could make a fine neuromancer,” he stated. “So wonderfully you take the truth…all the fears you couldn’t face, and seal them so tightly in your mind, not able to be released. You have repressed everything, like a little black box of your own precious memories. Yesssss…”
“W-what are you talking about?” I cried hysterically.
“If you are to face our kind you must fight with a clear mind, without any doubt, without any pain. Anything you have avoided can be used against you. They will exploit it.”
Then all of a sudden I felt a surge of heat coming from deep within my. My knees buckled and I fell onto the ground. The unbelievable sensitivity coming from my chest was like an itch that desperately needed scratched. Even in front of him I couldn’t help but reach under my shirt and massage my nipples, only to cause further excitement for my raging libido.
“Ugh!” I moaned, “Please…stop!”
Then suddenly it disappeared, and although I ended without successfully releasing all my pent up sexual energy, I at least could bring myself under control.
“Even your sexual tension can be used against you,” he stated. “It was that which got to you, and turn yourself against your friend.”
Ten years of pent up sexual frustration…my God, it was almost like I had to have sex as a woman to stay sane.
“So now we have reached an impasse, my dear Saoirse,” he informed me.
“Why do you call me that!?” I demanded to know.
“That was your name 10 years ago,” he answered, “The one Miriam gave you. The one name you try to forget.”
He slowly walked behind me and slowly explained, “We are at the crossroads, my beautiful red headed child. As I had said, to defeat Jackson, and furthermore Mabus, you must be of clear mind. But, as one who has repressed her memories so, the final choice is yours. I can reveal all to you: the good, the bad, everything. However that is up to you.”
My past…repressed. Was that what those civilians…no, Mabus, was that what he meant by Liar, Temptress, Murderer? What have I kept hidden from myself for so long? What am I missing?
“Ah choices,” he said, “What path to choose? Is ignorance truly bliss? Or will the truth set you free? Watching you fret about it is a fantastic experience, I must say.”
Ignorance, bliss? I had half the mind to choke the guy who ever made the quote. All it has given me was more anguish. The walls I’ve built up over the years could keep a nuclear reactor from meltdown. It may hurt, I may never be able to fully embrace it, but I no longer cared. Nothing was worse than the life I’ve forced myself into. I needed to know. I needed to be free.
“Do it,” I told the grotesque being. “I must know.”
“Hehe…” It chuckled, “this will be quite the experience. I suppose it would be wise if you close your eyes.”
Whatever second thoughts I had faded. The minute I closed my eyes was the minute I left my present behind and returned to a simpler time, back when I was Saoirse.
September 13, 2013
“Saoirse!” I heard being yelled throughout the halls. “Come on out here! I have something for you!”
For me? I thought to myself. I was starting to get worried that she was forgetting all about me. For one, she barely calls me by my real name anymore, although even now I was struggling to identify what exactly was “real” at this point in time. I’ve tried to stay off Mir’s back on the whole manner, after all, I’m sure this whole issue is affecting her just as much.
Perhaps it affected her even more. Somehow these past two weeks had been quite the learning experience. What was once a matter of swallowing my pride now became old hat. Shaving my legs, maintaining my hair, and even strapping on my bra- once strenuous activities, now almost became habit.
Such things I once thought were taboo now became rather interesting to me. Most recently I’ve gotten into TV dramas. Miriam had an old stash of recorded programs, and in the middle of the night I swiped them into my room. At the time it was supposed to be a test to see how far I’ve changed. I was praying I didn’t have to suffer, yet surprisingly, I got totally into it. I still try to keep it a secret however. I still have some masculine beliefs, and I’d rather not be caught going through boxes of Kleenexes in the middle of a tearjerker.
So when Miriam actually was willing to get me something, even during these awkward times, I jumped for joy. Even after all the changes I went through, one thing remained constant: I still found her immensely attractive. As long as that remained, I could handle everything else, no matter what role I played.
Meeting her in the family room, I saw it; it was a shimmering red dress, elegant and yet practical. While beautiful, the whole thing left me baffled. Why would she buy me this?
“I don’t get it,” I admitted as I looked at the colorful garment laid out before me.
“I thought it would be appropriate for our big night tonight,” she explained.
“Our?” I couldn’t help but worry.
“We can’t have you hanging around here like a recluse forever!” she remarked. “That’s just as suspicious as trying to live like a man!”
Truth be told, I would still like to live like a male, if I had to choose. Hell, just being able to put on loose clothing was liberating. Oh, and the pockets…gotta love how much you can carry with them!
…The fact that the first thing I even thought about was the advantages of male clothing made me realize just how feminine I was thinking.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I stated.
“Well, if you’re gonna live this way awhile, you might as well enjoy it,” she stated. I was starting to wonder if she was finding enjoyment in doing this, like I was some kid sister she could play dress up on.
“And where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“My brother offered to take us out to a dance club for the night,” she answered. “It’s been so long since I had a little fun, so I jumped on the opportunity.”
“Not him,” I moaned while shaking my head. “You know I’m not real thrilled with him. Besides, you know I can’t dance.”
“I think your new body will surprise you,” she argued. “And chill out. It isn’t like it’s a date or anything. I don’t think I could handle that.” I’m glad I could at least sense she still has some affection towards me. At least that’s what I feel like it is.
“Good,” I replied, “because I doubt I could handle dating him either.”
“Anyway come over here and let me help you try it on,” she insisted. “I think I got your size right.”
“Hey!” I whined, “I didn’t even say whether I was willing to do this!”
But she knew she’d already won. That was how it was back when I was male. Once she put her foot down I was stuck. Now that I was practically her size it only made dragging me a whole lot easier…
…And perhaps maybe I was a little curious at how I would look. Just a little bit.
It took longer than expected. It was the first time I tried on a dress, after all. There were so many little intricacies involved in it.
“Cut it out!” Miriam demanded. “You keep on wiggling and you’ll never get comfortable with it.”
“Well,” I countered, “I’m not thrilled how snug it feels.”
“Well, it’s supposed to be like that,” she stated. “A woman needs to show her curves. Now come outside and let me look at you!”
I reluctantly agreed and walked out of the bathroom and into the open. But she didn’t seem to like how I did even that.
“No no!” She snapped.
“What?” I couldn’t help but wonder.
“Your gait,” she explained. “It’s too manly, definitely not meant for a dress. Stand up straighter, shoulders back, and take smaller steps. You need to gyrate your butt more!”
This was getting embarrassing. I followed her orders though and retried. She seemed to accept my latest attempt, at least.
“Now spin around,” she commanded, “I want to get the full look at you.”
“This isn’t Simon Says, you know?” I quipped as I slowly spun around for her viewing pleasure. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was getting out of all this. Is she purposely trying to feminize me? I didn’t know what to think.
“So?” I asked, hoping to meet her approval.
“…You look good,” she halfheartedly replied. Geez, at least with all this work you could give me a better grade than good.
But now wasn’t the time for complaints. I could see it in Miriam’s eyes. Something changed in her mood all of a sudden, and whatever it was put a frown on her face.
“Anyway,” She stated. “I suppose we should practice with the high heels.” She then silently left the room.
Was it something I did?
Something in me wanted to impress Mir as I made my way over to the night club. I felt almost like I didn’t impress her; that something in me was doing something wrong. I diligently tried to put her training to work, trying my hardest to remember every little detail: The walk, the posture, the whole subtle behavior that made a woman attractive. I suppose this was my first test. I hope I pass it with flying colors.
We found a seat around one of the tables and waited for Jackson to show up. Even now I still didn’t like the guy, but again, I was doing this for Miriam. Even in this body I still want her to know I love her.
Even if I had to dance just to prove it to her.
“Hey, Sersh,” she began as she broke my train of thought, “could you go over to the bar and order us a few drinks?” She handed me some money and with a nod I decided to oblige. Turning to walk away I kept repeating in my head, stand straight, shoulders back, small steps, wiggle the butt. I was getting better…I think.
I handed the bartender my money and order and sat there waiting. Suddenly someone thought it cute to cover my eyes as a familiar somebody came up to greet me.
“Guess who,” the annoying little booger implored me to do.
“Cut it out!” I yelled as he uncovered my eyes. Jackson was still acting like his playboy self. I could almost see why women find this obnoxious.
“I have to say you look magnificent,” he praised. Again I don’t know whether to be appreciating or abhorring the little comment. Yet something in me suggested the former. Hey, at the very least it was a signal that all my work wasn’t in vain!
“Well, don’t get used to it,” I sneered. “I’m doing this for Miriam anyway.”
“I see,” he stated. “I’m glad she has a good friend in you.”
Friend? I wanted to yell. That lady is the love of my life! I wouldn’t go through with this for just anybody.
“Something the matter?” he asked, seeing I was drifting in my own thoughts.
“No,” I replied. It’s hard to say what you really feel sometimes. It’s not like lesbians are unheard of. But I wanted to wait for her to make that commitment. Sadly though, I was beginning to grow impatient. I didn’t know why. Maybe it felt like I was trapped in a barrier, a barrier called my body, which prevented me from remembering…remembering what it’s like to be touched, to feel the warmth of another, to feel love.
It kind of amazed me how little I even dissected my own thoughts. Was I really feeling the sting of loneliness? Was living with my girlfriend causing me pain as days go by without any reconnection? I just didn’t know. Furthermore, what would I do if such a reconnection isn’t possible?
The bartender handed me the drinks. Jackson excused himself as he went to use the restroom. Thank God for small miracles. Of course the saying went that it takes ten good things to make up for a bad thing, and what happened next would definitely exemplify such a statement.
I walked back to the table, only to see Miriam out on the dance floor…dancing with another guy.
All those feelings I just dissected boiled to the surface. Does she even see me as a man anymore? Does she even like me now? What would happen if we couldn’t reconnect? My frustration grew. I needed to confront her.
Walking on over to her I motioned her to the ladies room. I had to know, even if it killed me.
“What were you doing back there?” I asked emphatically.
“What?” She said, looking at me all wild eyed as if she didn’t do anything wrong. “The guy offered to dance with me and I said okay. It’s pretty much normal.”
“Normal?” I replied. “It’s only normal if the one who was dancing wasn’t already taken. What about me? Did you think I wouldn’t have a problem with it?”
“Sersh…” She said, frowning.
“It’s Scott, Mir,” I told her. “Inside this womanly shell still holds the man you love.”
“I know! I know!” She yelled. “It’s just so hard damn it. I want to remember, I want to believe you’re inside there. It’s just too hard sometimes!”
“And why is that?” I questioned.
“Because you’re a girl!” She stated bluntly. “Look at you! The hair, the breasts, the face- how can I not see you as one?”
I was speechless to respond. Each little truth tore at me like a dagger, piercing my very soul.
“Every day I forget another part of you,” she admitted. “First it was the eyes, then your nose, your lips. I barely can even remember your face, Scott! I wanted to try and salvage what I could from you. Perhaps I could love you as a woman, I thought. That’s why I wanted you to wear that dress, to come dancing with me, to enjoy yourself! Because I needed to know! For my own sanity I needed to know!”
“And the answer seems to be pretty evident,” I said, not even stopping to considering any other possibilities.
“It’s not that,” She said trying to save grace, but I wouldn’t have any of it.
“I’m a woman now, Mir,” I stated, “I didn’t want to be, but that’s the hand was I was dealt. If you can’t accept me, then so be it, but don’t lie to me; don’t lie to yourself, about what you’re going through.” I opened the bathroom door not even bothering to act femininely any longer. Turning back, I added. “It only makes my pain worse.” Fighting back tears I left her to her thoughts.
Sitting down, I looked back at all that happened. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t sad. I was just numb. I knew this was a possibility, that my girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, couldn’t love me like this. It must take a special person to be a lesbian, because even knowing who I was she only could instinctively see me as a woman. It’s all in the chemistry, I guess.
And as for me, what about my chemistry? Where was I going to go from here? Does she know how difficult it is for me!? I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Just then Jackson returned to me. He didn’t seem like his typical flirtatious self, but rather he seemed concerned. My suspicion was he knew what happened. I just hope he didn’t know in detail. If he found out I was Scott…
“Hey,” he began, “I saw Miriam storming out of the place when I left the bathroom. Did something happen?”
In the broadest sense, I fessed up. “We kind of gotten into an argument. She probably just needed to get away for awhile.”
I thought he’d be pissed off I might have hurt his little sister like that, but even after all that he still seemed to passionately care about my well being. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked.
While thoughtful, it would be difficult to just tell him everything. “It’s okay,” I told him. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” He repeated. My silence told him all he needed to know. Seeing that, he initiated conversation regardless. “You know, Mir’s been kind of down lately herself. I think it’s because of her boyfriend. I don’t necessarily know the guy, but I heard that during high school the two were almost inseparable.”
Geez, I thought. Just go through my life’s history why don’t you?
“Ever since she’s left for college she seems to be lonely, like she’s missing a piece of herself. It’s hard on her. If I could I’d drag his ass back to her.” Despite the vulgarity, I did appreciate his concern over us.
“But I can’t control life,” he said. “Sometimes paths separate, goals change, circumstance divides us. Miriam and I were adopted into a rather wealthy family, from what I know, he…not so much. I just hope that somewhere he still misses her as much as she does him.
A subtle tear fell from my eye. I do, Jackson, I wanted to say. I really, honestly do.
He stared at me. I prayed that my watery eyes didn’t give away anything. Such words rung so true. Circumstances have slowly but surely divided us, it just wasn't the way he expected.
He just stared and then grinned, as if he had a major idea. Oh and how he did.
“I know what’ll cheer you up!” He exclaimed. He then held out his hand to me. “C’mon. Let’s dance!”
“What?” I asked in utter shock. “I-I don’t even know how!”
“Pfft, nonsense!” he exclaimed. “Hell I guarantee you’re much better than I am!” He then proceeded to give me a demonstration of his moves, acting like a complete moron, putting all Caucasian males to shame. Yet he didn’t seem to mind embarrassing himself. Hell, even I couldn’t help but giggle at his ridiculousness.
“C’mon!” he urged me. “As long as I’m up here, you’ll have nothing to be embarrassed about!”
…Ah, what the hell. I could probably use the distraction. I slowly got up and walked over. Listening to the pounding bass, the driving beat, I got a good feel of the rhythm. I really did assume I would totally look like a fool out there, but honestly when I started to shake what my Wyldness gave me, it felt so comfortable. I guess it is true; my body seemed to be made for dancing now that I’m a girl. I was so into it that I didn’t realize I was playing lead to Jackson, who was accompanying me with every movement.
We were the center of attention. My dancing partner took my by the hand and wrapped his arm around my waist. Instinctively I followed suit, and the two of us began to dance in unison, in a fast pace, directly encouraged by the song. Jackson was a great liar; he was actually quite the dancer, but I guess his little act worked. Honestly, I’m kinda glad he did; nothing I have done since becoming Saoirse has been so exhilarating.
Time passed and it was after 3:00 AM when I decided to call it a night. Jackson offered me a ride home and I took it, mostly out of consideration, more than anything else. Back then I didn’t know my strengths and weaknesses and it really isn’t safe for a lady to be out alone in the middle of the night.
Besides, I was actually having fun chatting with Jackson for a bit. Sure, he’s a complete knucklehead sometimes but he does make up for it. I actually found it amazing that he and I shared many of the same interests. Well, maybe it wasn’t as shocking as I first thought. After all, it was those same interests that made me fall for his sister.
What’s more, even after the fight, the feelings of betrayal, and the blunt truth I had to face this night, I actually enjoyed myself. I even began to feel guilty about how I acted. I can see how dancing, particularly with someone else. I know it’s been hard for Miriam. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so abrasive over the situation. After all, it wasn’t like she was kissing him or anything!
I got out of Jacks car and we said our goodbyes as we parted ways. Tonight changed how I thought of him. What once was irritation and displeasure has now turned into mutual respect. As I walked to my front door I only could think to myself, he better hang out with me more often!
Comments
So now things come to light.
Things Scott might not like so much, but still, what she needs to know to get through this.
I don't think her new ally is all that trustworthy, but getting that stuff out is something that had to happen in time.
Maggie
That ally is Mythos
could anyone seriously trust them?
Revealing
We find out there are other Mythos alive in the world and not that sane operating behind the scenes. Also a very heavy handed clue that the Purge was orchestrated to create this endless war.
I agree with Maggie that her new ally isn't trustworthy, but like she said Scott has got to lance that emotional dark pit she's held so tightly closed.
To a creature like this, I imagine it's very tasty. However you find your help where you can.
hugs
Grover
This Mythos, no
It doesn't feed off pain, like Mabus does. It might find it quite appealing however!
The Heart of it All: A Wyld Universe story- Part 8
Will her JOURNEY turn her into another MYTHOS?
May Your Light Forever Shine
facing the past
never easy, and it sounds like she's got a few things she repressed to deal with. I hope she can.
What if the unthinkable is true...
that the murdering bastard head of the Confederacy is being manipulated and is in fact a fairly nice guy, twisted and corrupted into a vile parody of himself by that rogue Mythos?
Scott clearly was falling for the man and his love seemed to think well of her brother, mostly.
Did the Mythos merely feed on his fears, his weaknesses, his repressed thoughts and turn him into a rabid killer just as it had turned Scott against Ian?
He seemed the perfect villain, the Stalin or Hitler of the Wyld saga but is he just a pawn? Are the thousands who died as much a product of this warped creature of the Mythos as they are the victims of prejudice?
Who is the puppet and who is the puppet master?
But more important HOW can the insanity end?
Will the other Mythos willingly kill/control one of their own?
And what is the limit of redemption?
Can what went so tragically wrong be somehow righted?
What of this bastion of Wyld hatred is in fact Scott's soul mate, HER true love?
This is getting deep.
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
Yeah it depends mostly
Obviously Mythos are very unstable to begin with. This Mythos, who I called Mabus is unique in that he actually feeds off of pain. No other Mythos is able to do this.
But truth is, if your entire goal in life is to cause chaos, particularly for nourishment, such as what Mabus does, you would think that would most likely involve keeping their victims alive. You can't really mess with people's minds when they're dead.
The major thing is Mythos can't control one's emotions if their minds aren't affected by anything. So if one was happy, technically Mabus couldn't hurt you, and may even cause damage to him.
And it's really hard for Mythos to control each other, too much randomness. That randomness could often cause Mythos to be at odds with each other.
Trust Issues
A lot to think about here:
“We Mythos aren’t like normal Wyld,†he explained. “We are chaos incarnate...†If they're "abnormal" Wyld, that doesn't change the fact that they grew up human for 19 years. Do they all (except, perhaps, for the speaker here) reject their origins and feel they have no stake in humanity except as playthings (or, in Mabus' case, food)?
(Our speaker offers a practical reason why he wants to fight Mabus and save human lives. But I wondered as I read it if he was might have some denial issues himself.)
“Those he frees as well as those who willingly join [Mabus] further participate in fanning these flames...†"Frees" from what? Is the speaker talking only about other Mythos or is he including humans like Jackson Wells among the willing participants?
Against the hypothesis that Jackson was a willing ally is the memory of his shooting his sister; the description we have so far now makes it sound as though he was under outside influence. Then again, if he succeeded (with Mabus's help) in blaming it all on Scott in his own mind, he'd probably have willingly sold his soul, so to speak, for the ability to spread the Purge as far and wide as possible.
Mabus's power also provides a possible explanation of the McCaig killing. He could have made McCaig turn the weapon on himself, with Jackson a mere bystander.
But that bothers me. If Mabus can force anyone who resists him to kill himself, then we're basically back to Sauron in Mordor: the only way to stop him is a surprise move from an unexpected source that the fiend is unaware of. And Scott certainly doesn't qualify.
True, Mabus really doesn't want to kill as great a source of nourishment/agony as Scott -- especially if he can use Scott's opposition to amp up others. So Mabus might underestimate him, I suppose.
It's my paranoid streak rising up again, I suppose. (Either that or thoughts of Varley's Gaia series.) But the next step in the "use Scott's opposition to amp up others" plan could be Mabus himself upping the stakes here by arranging Scott's awakening, and setting him specifically against Jackson. Could the speaker be Mabus himself, despite his denial? And if so, is there really a Mythos class of Wyld at all?
Eric
Mythos
are basically insane humans who went Wyld, so no one really knows what one's mindset is. Some may only see humans as playthings, some may think themselves as human playthings. They're crazy, there are no explanations to their behavior. One thing you have to realize is that if you're looking for motive for these beings, you probably won't find any. They may even just go so far as to cause pain just for fun.
If Mabus feeds off pain, what would be the greatest cause of pain? Death, while long term heavily unproductive, could cause the most heartache. Mabus probably doesn't know the details of Scott's life, or that she has a connection with Jackson even, but her pain from losing Miriam all these years ago shines like a beacon, and could easily hook him like a fish on a hook.
"Those he frees" is more direct than what was meant. Most Mythos are already confined in highly restricted mental institutions, many hidden beyond human sight, because of the threat these type of Wyld cause. This other Mythos mostly was referring to them.
Scott's only use to Mabus is to cause more suffering. Her death would be of no consequence to him. Obviously he couldn't care less about anyone's death, seeing he's purposely manipulating war for his own benefit. It's just baffling that he doesn't care,seeing death would essential devoid him of his food source.
Thanks, Aoife...
I appreciate the background.
That takes a lot of sophistication out of the equation as far as Mabus is concerned: he didn't set up Scott's escape from the Purge as a way of getting Jackson to prolong the aggression, and apparently he didn't make Jackson blame Scott for Miriam's death as a prelude to the Purge. And if Mabus actually did have people saying "liar, temptress, murderer" to Scott (as opposed to just making Scott think so), Jackson's thoughts, compelled or otherwise, about the old incident had nothing to do with it.
Eric
Jackson could believe Scott did it
And Mabus may have amplified it. He can only manipulate that which may already be a part of him. Scott's loneliness for example, was what amplified her to want Ian, and later, the reason she tried to kill them. Maybe Jackson without influence could have been more reasonable, but who's to say? I probably will write about it as days go on (and when I get free time, my classes have been really hectic as of late!).