Run.
She does.
Run, run, as fast as you can.
Off you go O don’t look back.
Ohoho! Can’t catch Cheriss.
Onono. Can’t give her a kiss...
Not yet. Maybe later, however. Maybe. Who knows these things?
Kayden did. Kayden didn’t. I am that is... Kayden no longer exists.
Maybe. Maybe not. In the end, be honest, it may yet be nonsense.
After all…what is a fish with no ocean…or a frog without its pond?
Dealing with destruction. Yes. That’s what a Sith does. What he is.
Only a Sith deals in absolutes. Someone once said. Wasn’t Kayden.
Weren’t Jedi the real idiots though? Blinded. Blind by ignorance.
Voices. Forever in his head. Forever young... Images. Yes. Visions.
He. It. Someone. Something. Becomes…some...thing…not...some...one.
There in darkness, within the pit, in that tank, that circle. It’s so round.
So black. So empty. So vacant. So bereft of any living thing. Of reality.
Yet it isn’t a fantasy. This isn't some fallacy. It is simply…upside down.
Like him. Like it. Spinning round and round. Like some centrifuge chamber.
Yes. Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s what is happening to him. Kayden Skyler.
Spinning round and round. Like a merry-go-round. It hurts. It was…torture.
A specimen in a lab. In a tank. Was it bacta? It’s fluid. It sticks. And it burns.
Kayden…can you hear me…Kayden?
A voice. A voice like before when he was back in that void. His first tank.
Back in that factory on Thila. It wasn’t his factory though. This was Thur’s.
If Thur Rashnik was in Kayden’s abandoned factory? What an experience.
Such hunger. Such thirst. Coming from blood that pumps. It is…exquisite.
According to her, it is. To the voice. From the void. His mistress. Darkness.
Kayden likes it when others get hurt. Their screams were his very silence.
Who can blame him for his misdeeds? His things? Even Sith need to feed.
So does she. So does Darkness. She needed energy. She needs her feast.
Who can blame her, really? The Jedi had the light. The Sith the dark side.
But this…is different. Kayden knows it as he screams within his dark pit.
As his chamber thrashes at him, splitting lightning, laughing at his cries.
Like it was just some bad joke. Isn’t it though? Just like some bad kiss.
Darkness…when…can I…take you…claim you…break you…and kiss you?
He ever asks her. She never really gives him a satisfying fucking answer.
Didn’t matter how many screams he gave her. How much passion. Pain.
How many bones he breaks. How many souls he slays. Or skin he flays.
How much fabric of space and time he peels. It never seems to matter.
When this galaxy burns, Kayden, from the ashes I will...rise…you...too…
From the ashes...
Was it madness?
What she speaks?
She must be freed.
I’ll do it, Darkness. I will reach its center. Open the hole. The circle. The upside down.
DO IT. DO IT, KAYDEN. DO IT. DO IT. FEED ME. FREE ME. LET ME OUT. LET. ME. OUT.
For now, Kayden Skyler, whoever he is and was, whatever he has become...screams...
Loudly. Quietly. Madness? No. It made sense. All those screams in his head unleashed.
So many screams, so much agony, so much death, pouring like blood, piss, and semen.
Erupting. Pumping. As fluid as the rain. Ocean. They scream in silence. And he listens.
[END THREAD]
@Sicadorito
She does.
Run, run, as fast as you can.
Off you go O don’t look back.
Ohoho! Can’t catch Cheriss.
Onono. Can’t give her a kiss...
Not yet. Maybe later, however. Maybe. Who knows these things?
Kayden did. Kayden didn’t. I am that is... Kayden no longer exists.
Maybe. Maybe not. In the end, be honest, it may yet be nonsense.
After all…what is a fish with no ocean…or a frog without its pond?
Dealing with destruction. Yes. That’s what a Sith does. What he is.
Only a Sith deals in absolutes. Someone once said. Wasn’t Kayden.
Weren’t Jedi the real idiots though? Blinded. Blind by ignorance.
Voices. Forever in his head. Forever young... Images. Yes. Visions.
He. It. Someone. Something. Becomes…some...thing…not...some...one.
There in darkness, within the pit, in that tank, that circle. It’s so round.
So black. So empty. So vacant. So bereft of any living thing. Of reality.
Yet it isn’t a fantasy. This isn't some fallacy. It is simply…upside down.
Like him. Like it. Spinning round and round. Like some centrifuge chamber.
Yes. Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s what is happening to him. Kayden Skyler.
Spinning round and round. Like a merry-go-round. It hurts. It was…torture.
A specimen in a lab. In a tank. Was it bacta? It’s fluid. It sticks. And it burns.
Kayden…can you hear me…Kayden?
A voice. A voice like before when he was back in that void. His first tank.
Back in that factory on Thila. It wasn’t his factory though. This was Thur’s.
If Thur Rashnik was in Kayden’s abandoned factory? What an experience.
Such hunger. Such thirst. Coming from blood that pumps. It is…exquisite.
According to her, it is. To the voice. From the void. His mistress. Darkness.
Kayden likes it when others get hurt. Their screams were his very silence.
Who can blame him for his misdeeds? His things? Even Sith need to feed.
So does she. So does Darkness. She needed energy. She needs her feast.
Who can blame her, really? The Jedi had the light. The Sith the dark side.
But this…is different. Kayden knows it as he screams within his dark pit.
As his chamber thrashes at him, splitting lightning, laughing at his cries.
Like it was just some bad joke. Isn’t it though? Just like some bad kiss.
Darkness…when…can I…take you…claim you…break you…and kiss you?
He ever asks her. She never really gives him a satisfying fucking answer.
Didn’t matter how many screams he gave her. How much passion. Pain.
How many bones he breaks. How many souls he slays. Or skin he flays.
How much fabric of space and time he peels. It never seems to matter.
When this galaxy burns, Kayden, from the ashes I will...rise…you...too…
From the ashes...
Was it madness?
What she speaks?
She must be freed.
I’ll do it, Darkness. I will reach its center. Open the hole. The circle. The upside down.
DO IT. DO IT, KAYDEN. DO IT. DO IT. FEED ME. FREE ME. LET ME OUT. LET. ME. OUT.
For now, Kayden Skyler, whoever he is and was, whatever he has become...screams...
Loudly. Quietly. Madness? No. It made sense. All those screams in his head unleashed.
So many screams, so much agony, so much death, pouring like blood, piss, and semen.
Erupting. Pumping. As fluid as the rain. Ocean. They scream in silence. And he listens.
[END THREAD]
@Sicadorito