Annoying!
So annoying!
Why couldn't we stay longer in the bastard's mind?
He's already began to move.
Wait - is he changing?
Oh, he is.
Prince started to change his raggedy saint clothes and donned the unholy suit.
It was a fine suit.
Let us describe it.
A suit so charming, so befitting for Prince.
Why what a marvelous description!
No, but seriously, I will describe it - somewhat.
The suit it was like something a corpse would wear to their wedding. It was a wedding suit, just really fucked.
No idea why Parath was wearing that.
Do you think Prince even questioned that?
I think it's the first time he's ever even seen a suit in the flesh.
Petty photos, I think that's all he ever saw them in.
Prince dropped his own raggedy, tattered, clothes to the floor.
Then he dressed up Parath.
He fastened the buttons on his new suit - too bad there weren't any shoes that went with it.
Or was there?
This bastard wasn't wearing any. Barefoot he was! I remember it clearly! What's there to remember? His ugly toes are right in front of me!
No, no, he must have shoes somewhere. But this room is fucking empty! It's hollow!
The bed! The last thing I haven't checked - the bed! Let's see what it's hiding underneath. I should have checked more carefully before! When I was sat down.
Prince bent down and crawled under the bed. It was really dark, so he strained his eyes.
No wonder I didn't see anything! Because of that fuck-ass weak yellow light!
Prince groped around and then he found it - he found wore out but polished, a bit dirty, but somewhat polished shoes.
Shoes meant for a groom to wear!
A wide smile erupted on his face.
One fueled and full of triumph!
Pride!
Happiness!
Prince was a boy getting an extremely memorable gift on his birthday.
Clothes can come and go - sure.
He wasn't gonna let these clothes go easily but that wasn't the point.
Shoes!
Shoes are extremely hard to come by, and good shoes!
Good shoes were like a needle in a haystack.
And these shoes weren't just good.
Ok - they were somewhat good.
They were pretty too!
Prince put his hands in his new pockets and walked around the room - with swag.
It lasted quite short though. A few steps and Prince was giving Parath the newly dressed saint paranoid glances.
So Prince quit his swaggy walk and approached Parath.
He approached him like a body possessed by a demon - a demon still learning to walk.
Prince picked him up again.
Was it easier to do so this time?
Or was Prince just fueled with happiness?
Happiness from what?
A thought had hit Prince.
It was so obvious yet it had eluded him!
This room. It's mine now!
Ahh yes, a room - for this bastard.
Finally! I'm rewarded! Years of living in the desolate expanses of the outside of the Hives and finally! I have a room again! Oh how I've missed this! A room for me! A room especially made for me! A room all for me!
He seems quite happy, quite proud.
Prince smiled - a pure smile.
But within that pure smile, fear crept up - doubt.
Doubt infected him.
Parath's eyes were dead - hollow.
But Prince could feel them on him - tracing him, his every movement.
I don't like that. I don't like that at all.
Ok Parath, it's time for your burial.
Prince turned Parath's body so it was facing the same way as him - Parath's body was in front of Prince's own.
Prince pushed Parath like that until he reached the gap in the wall he had made before - squeezing Parath inside.
Heavy bastard. Now I have to lug this guy all the way up there, don't know how im going to do that without breaking a sweat. Fuck that - I'm going to have to make those holes bigger. Or will I? I'll have to see, I might be able to push him up, with how skinny he is, it might be easy.
But at least I have a room. My very own room. I can't believe it. I've been blessed.
But you forget don't you Prince, sure the man before you has decayed but you - you're still decaying aren't you? Why, have you forgotten? You're going to end up just like Parath if you don't eat, if you don't go through that door.
This voice is plagueing. Yes, I am aware! We are the same person! But to answer your question, yes fear not, I will go through that door. We will go through that door. Wearing Parath's ghostly suit of course.
Prince couldn't see anything in atticly fashion.
So he traced the walls of course, at first he was confused which way was the way back, but he managed it somehow.
I'm sure the right way back was left.
It was right?
Well if you ask me, it is. Think Prince, the way you came down - which way you turned. You turned right, remember?
Oh yeah. I turned right.
Which means, I turn left here.
On my way to the first hatch then.
Prince walked with weight, pushing the corpse forward first - along the tight passage.
He walked with only his thoughts to accompany him.
And they - they were treacherous.
You know what? I feel fucking stupid. I grappled with the demon himself. The demon from the depths of my soul. I grappled with him just moments before i donned his mask, before i grew his horns. Aren't I a fucking fraud? Just to say that "oh we are the same person". What a fucking idiot I am.
Aren't you?
And even now this bastard voice. Does it even plague me? Or am I the bastard who makes it speak. I know - I made it speak at first, i forced it, i gave it - it's own primordial fire. And now fucking what? This bastard has a soul? No I control the fucking soul - I made it! I made it - didn't I? So idiot or not - idiot or not! Idiot or not! I fucking rule - I'm the monarch.
My own voice - it sickens me, it disgusts me, its so disgusting its hurting.
A fucking ugly voice - a bastard voice, a voice born from bastard.
A such and sickly voice.
Stupid fucking thoughts, stupid fucking ideas. A mix of both; but in fucking shambles. A potion that hasn't been stirred - no wait, it has been fucking stirred, be it half stirred or fully. It was stirred. The ingredients weren't lay out bare - no fucking not. It was stirred by a fucking bastard with a bastard of a soul. A truly bastard person, I bet they have a demon tainted soul. Fucking red, disgusting, horned. Fucking horned!
This fucking anger, I would lash out, I would hurt, I would damage, I would punch. But how could i hurt my beloved room, my beloved home, these fucking suffocating walls, i must treat them with respect, they are beloved they are mine. No, I will fucking hurt others, I am a killer, am i not? I will shed this bastard fake skin i wear, I am a killer, a molester, I am a demon! I will mutilate those who cross me, who don't serve me, and I will enjoy it! I will enjoy doing so!
This not the words of a madman, but of a man with clear will! A clear conscience! I annoy, I am annoyed at myself! I am aware of my own flaws, my curses, my beloved, my beloved gifts. I am aware! How much more do I have to bare this fucking curse? The curse of knowing! I know what I am, I know what I become, I see it for what it is! Maybe I don't see it in the moment! But I will see it in the future! I am a man who is blessed with knowledge - knowledge of himself. But that knowledge comes like a stream, not a river.
I ramble, I speak, I utter words for years. I continue my wasteful, futile, streams of thoughts, trains. I continue, in futility without reason, without purpose, here I am a peasant in a suffocating labyrinth spitting words of a mad philosopher. A philosopher the world has never seen, never dreamt of, never heard of, never saw the reflection of. For I am a creature unseen, the type to look back at you in the reflection of yours in a pool of water.
My anger boils, but it seems as though it has cooled.
My displeasure? Why I think it might have gone now, but don't think this is satisfactory.
No - No - No.
I love it most when Prince suffers.
Because that's what he deserves.