Fall of Eros [Closed]

We remember enough to know that we’ve forgotten something. Those words seemed to echo within his mind. He sat there, in his chair in the library with that book folded in his hands, it was blank now. Did that mean that the man behind the door’s possession was wearing off? Was he going to be leaving this place without the information that he needed? The information that he had sought? Once again, his eyes glanced down to the book, this tie, the page was not blank. But held a single sentence. “ We seek an end, through trial by fire”. Jack didn’t quite know what was this supposed to mean. What sought an end and what was this trial by fire that it spoke of? Once again Jack had to steel his mind and remember that the book her was looking at divulged the memories and experiences of a demon whose mind was not completely his own. Therefore everything that The book said was not something that was to be trusted. Yet at the same time. He had to consider just every little speck of information. And that’s when something truly mad happened. On the page of the book, below the sentence. Writing began to appear in true ink script.

“Face your trials and learn from them, in these the answers are found”.

Learning from experiences. The past? What answers would lie in the past that he could use to break this cycle of possession and madness. And if he couldn’t break it what would be the repercussions for himself and for Sera? For Iskra? He stood up, and placed the book on the chair where he had sat. On the book. One last line began to scrawl itself upon the pages.

“ What will the consequences be if you do?”
EXP:327
PWC:305( Researcher)

The air was heavy, Jack had related that sentence in the book to his past and he knew that there was one thing that tied his past to the man behind the door. It had occurred just slightly after he had killed the entire clan of Pride and had been attacked by those rebel remnants fo sloth and fear. He had been plunged into a deep dream that he could not escape from, one that put in a book, one that had put in blood a horror with him being chased by armoured men. Chased and powerless. Ceila had been his saviour in this, the madness demon somehow managing to invade his dream herself and lead him out of it, but it hadn’t bee quite what he had expected, when he had left, he had left from behind the door. And Ceila had become all too serious in telling him not to turn around, not to face the man behind the door. Who had been chuckling his head off. In fact, now that Jack thought about it, that was the very first time he had ever seen the door open. Had that been the focal point? The origins of the man behind the door in getting into his mind?

it was not impossible, after all every time the door had been opened be it by him or now by the man behind the door. It had never been so wide as it had been when he had escaped that dream of the past, perhaps it was then that something got out. The tiniest slither of something that had managed to lodge itself f between he door and the library, and subsequently his mind. Whilst Jack now did enjoy the library, this connection to the man behind the door and himself was beginning to get aggravating. If he could, he might see if there was indeed a way to sever his connection with this world of madness.
EXP:336
PWC:332

He stood here now in the corridor. Or at least on the edge of it, that connection point which seemed to link it with the library. As had been noted by Jack on multiple occasion the corridor wasn’t actually a part of the library and nor did it feel thusly. It felt like someone had tried badly to sew an additional limb onto a body. The limb itself simply hung there, slowly rotting over time =, just like this corridor with the blinking lights and leaky pipes. A state of degradation, how much longer it was going to last, he didn’t know. He stepped forwards had outreaching towards the door. And when he reached the charred and burned exterior of the wooden frame and touched the knob. He felt something all too different than what he usually felt. Normally there was a sense of dread in such things. But sometimes there was something else. Something that lay deeper. More intertwined in his own personality. Something that was cold.

It was a strange feeling this, he knew that he had to go inside. But he also knew that it was quite possible that this thing was going to be a trap. After all the book was of the man behind the door, and Jack had no doubt that the man behind the door would want nothing more than for him to take his place behind that door. . But he had been there before. Been somewhere beyond it, and had came back. But did that make it safe? No. It only made his own ideas about travelling beyond it that bit more optimistic. He looked up at the cracked and clouded pane of glass. Said his last few words outside of that door.

Turned the knob.

And walked inside.
EXP:321
PWC:302

There was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. An inner darkness that he could quite put his finger on lingering on the edge of that noise. He had just moved behind the door and already things were changing faster that he could have realized. There had been no screaming just this darkness that had engulfed him so completely that he could barely see, in fact. No not barely. Could not see at all. Yet in this darkness there seemed to be something beyond suffering. There was reflection. It seemed to drag him back into the inner recesses of his mind, first seeing himself move through that place of his in the land of Iskra. The blood magic experiments he had been performing on the humans with such glee in his face, as he sat there watching in the darkness this all going out ahead of him he began to see imperfections in his own techniques. Perhaps it was after witnessing the almost flawless methods of the blood mage in hell, the cleanness of her equipment and the efficiency of her tools. Or perhaps it was now that his insight into blood magic was far greater than it had been previously. But he was now beginning to see more methods and ways of solving problems that he had encountered in the past whether it be through directly using blood magic or thorough introducing other means of magic. He had never thought about that before, combining magic from one school into the next to aid in his research. He had done it before in the creation of hellfire for one of his more deadly attacks. But he hadn’t thought about bringing it into his research to make things more efficient.

He imagined that combining schools of magic like earth and blood would probably be ineffective. But perhaps something like metal combined with his use of blood magic would provide far more favourable results. Yes, he imagined that it probably would. Now just what would be the result? He’d have to find out just when he got back. If he got back. But right now he was stuck in this memory. And as his past self wittered away below with different types of blood he had to wonder just how he was going to be travelling any further back. For further back he had to go, if he was going to get to the bottom of this connection.

EXP:446
PWC: 409

The flow of blood and darkness brought him further back, sometimes further back than he would have wished. His mind brought him to the memory of his first meeting with the Matriarch od the middle plain. A demon that had no real sense of import or mark on the world. Just a wandering creature than meant nothing to him. Just a speck of dust in the wind. He looked into the eyes of the Iskra memory. Those cold blue ones had shown fear to him at first, she’d barely been able to look into his eyes. He’d liked that back then. Back before the days of the end of pride. But then, he had see potential in her. He’d agreed to help her develop this potential if she had completed a task for him. A task that he could not quite believe she had completed. At least if the voices that were in her souls spoke truly At that point another thought drifted in Hanabi. A potential child. There would no doubt be another memory he would find himself wandering in. He watched below as his past self instructed Iskra on the first uses of her magic. Blood was power and in the blood of the Onikonjou ran a taint that carried the power of the pain and suffering of others.

Iskra had then learned to harness that power. It was an interesting one to say the least, Jack had to wonder if she continued to use those kind of powers that he had taught her. Or if she was reverting to more moral methods. Iskra as a strong demon, and he had played a part in crafting that, he had to wonder just what sort of soul would come from a union of the two. Jack and Iskra. The master of magical knowledge combined with the raw power of the Hyena demon. Finding out would be interesting. But he had already risked enough in producing one potential heir. He would not risk it again.

EXP:353
PWC: 338

The image swam again in a variety of colours, bringing him further back, back to when he had first came to hell, the violent images. The fear, the things he had done just to survive, Jack knew that his form was little more than a veil for the monsters that lay underneath. He was no gentleman, he was just something that looked like one. Inside there was nothing of the sort. He’d felt no guilt. No horror about doing the things that he had needed to do. After all they had needed to be done. Otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here today ( would that be such a bad thing?). Moving further back, images of Hanabi. This time though it was strange. Different, he viewed her just as he had just as she was yet. Before him he didn’t see an aspect of love or connection, he just saw a human in rags, clinging onto some vile hope that she wasn’t the only freak in the world. She had been a hybrid. A half demon. And she’d wanted to hold onto him in order to find something that would accept her. It was pitiful. Pitiful and confusing. If he was seeing her like this in his memory. Why was it that when he looked back, when he remembered he remembered feeling differently about the whole situation. Why was it only now that he was seeing this?

Confusion. Was it that he had changed so much in these last few years that his perspectives on those times had changed? Or was it something else? After all recollection beyond this place had always been strangely..nice. Strange. He brought himself down to watch his own memory, looked into Hanabi’s eyes and wondered just what kind of half breed she had been. There wasn’t love, only a faint sense of cold curiosity. Wondering just what kind of magic he could make with her blood.


EXP:347
PWC:320

There wasn’t much further back Jack was going to be able to go, And yet as the visions swam once more, a sense of dread came over him. There was the sound of rain drops. ( I like the rain). A strange smell, and as he opened his eyes, again. Everything was dark. But not dark as it had been. It was dark, but illuminated by a strange light above him. He was in a kind of corridor. But it was outside. Strange sacks and metal containers all around him, each of which smelt like rotting decay. N front of him, there was a figure, one that seemed to be emanating this feeling of dread that now encompassed Jack so completely. The figure was silent and stationary for the first brief few seconds and then raised its hand, becoming Jack towards it. The figure was ragged, dark. Dirty. Red eyes that identified a pride demon. Its then that Jack began to make out his features as his eyes adjusted to the dark. The figure was him. A version of him albeit dirty and frayed. Dressed like some kind of vagrant, a stark difference to the current form of himself. The vagrant Jack looked up and chuckled under his breath. A gruff sound that with the breath released some mist from his mouth. It was cold. But then Jack was an Oni. It didn’t really much matter to him. He squinted his eyes at the vagrant. “ Just what are you?”.

Once again the sound of chuckling. “ I am Fragment”. Said the Vagrant. It wasn’t really much of an answer. A fragment, or was his name Fragment. If he was a fragment then what was he a fragment of? “ The dream”. The vagrant said lightly before erupting into multiple thunderous coughs. “ I’m the man with mirrored eyes...the big bad wolf, I am Eros”. A wide spreading grin on his face. Utter nonsense. If it wasn’t for the fact this thing had red eyes then he could have sworn that this thing in front of him was a madness demon. Yet then again it was foolish to think that madness was simply restricted to the demons of madness it was quite possible that other demons could lose their minds relatively easily in the throes of madness. But he had to find out just what this thing was. And what connection it had to the man behind the door. Sheol. And ultimately his own life.

EXP:443
PWC:417