Monster

Syren gasped for air as though he was drowning in mud. In his shaking hand was the dull, black bracelet made of pearls that was once Invidia, the demon of envy. It slithered itself onto Syren's right arm. His whole body shivered in fright from what he witnessed. It was inhumane, monstrous, and nothing so human. And it was himself. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. He took two steps back before he fell to the drenched ground in a fetal position. He couldn't hear Tyra calling out nor her excessive shaking of his coiled up body.

Then, there was Whisper... or Ira, demon of wrath standing over Syren knowing that he knew. Ira smiled at the thought that Syren may turn back into what he used to be. But the Syren that was there was only afraid... afraid of himself.

Syren couldn't make a sound. He only thought how it was impossible, but each second with his true memories made it more clear. The memories that were forged broke apart revealing the grime and muck of his true self.

Everything that he was. All that was wrong in the world. It was all horrid and putrid in the eyes of this newborn.

The serpentine demon slowly approached atop Syren's body. He held him like that of a caring mother's. Soft yet firm. Warm yet cold. He spoke softly with an insidious smile on his face while putting his fingers through his hair. "This is what you are, Syren. I wanted to do this slowly so I can avoid such a troubling display, but Invidia spoiled the fun. So, here we are. There is nothing that can be done, but to accept what you are. You are a monster. You are responsible for the catastrophes of the past, present, and future. The eclipse. The deaths. All as intended. Accept it and continue to be the monster you were fated to be. Destroy, corrupt, tear down this world by force and terror. And you will build a better one."

As Syren looked at Ira's snake-like eyes, he could see himself in the reflection. He saw a walking corpse that died the moment the ritual began. There were maggots crawling in his empty eye-sockets. His skin had been peeled away. All the cuts and bruises that were inflicted upon by the monsters he fought while under Ira's control were all there bleeding. Every hit. Every stab. Every arrows that pierced his body. They all showed with blood gushing out.

Syren jumped away from Ira and his own dark reflection. He was dead. He knew it. But when he looked at himself in a puddle, he was still the same. Physically, anyways. But the face he saw was still a monster's. It was the face that raped a girl, murdered his parents, and brought upon this endless eclipse.

As Syren's hearing began to return, Tyra's cries were getting louder and louder until he had to cover his own ears from the noise.

"Syren! Talk to me!" Tyra cried out worried about Syren's well-being.

Syren turned to face her, but quickly stopped himself. He tried to cover his face with his bare hands and the darkness that laid in this basement. "Don't look at me," Syren said fearfully, "Don't look. Don't look."

"What's wrong?" Tyra asked as she began to worry more.

"Don't look. I'm...I'm...."

Syren took steps back into the darkness trying even harder to cover himself.

"Syren... What's...?" Tyra asked as she tried to get closer. Her blade was sheathed back and her hands were away from the blade. She assumed that Invidia must have done something terrible to Syren after he picked up the bracelet. He was relatively fine until he did so. It felt like seconds to Tyra, but for Syren, it was years. Years of his actual life breaking through the false memories that he wished he had.

When Tyra took one step closer, Syren yelled, "Get back! I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I'm a monster. I'm a monster on the inside and out."

Tyra could see how Syren looked and he was most certainly not turned into any monster. He still looked just as human as he was minutes before.

Tyra stopped and tried to think of what she could do. Ira hoped that Tyra would just leave, but didn't think that would happen.

"Syren. We haven't known each other long," Tyra said as she gradually got closer and Syren was faced against the wet wall, "I don't know what Invidia showed you or what memories you gained, but you're not a monster. You're not a demon nor a beast. You're just Syren. A good man who just wanted to do the right thing. A good man who wanted to fix his mistakes." Tyra then recalled her own memories of how she killed people when she was part of a mercenary band. "I had done plenty of terrible things, too. I regret them. I am trying to undo what I did by doing good, but in the end the past still happened. I can't undo it. But you...you can. This eternal eclipse. You said you caused it. You said that you can undo it by defeating these demons. You have a chance to undo what you did. Not many have that kind of chance." Upon hearing this, Syren began to calm down. He still covered his face, but listened intently.

Tyra continued as she knew that she was getting to him, "Syren, whoever you were in the past doesn't have to define who you are now. You have a good heart. You try to be the best of what humanity can be. But you aren't perfect. Whatever you did or think you did... you can't change that. But you can make sure that it doesn't happen again. You don't have to be whoever you think you are. You're not a monster."

And when Syren blinked and saw his face once more, he saw only himself. Not a corpse walking. Not a murderer. Not a monster. He saw only himself. And he accepted it.

Tyra was right. The Syren that committed those terrible crimes was dead - taken away into the black depths of the abyss known as the eclipse. He may wear the skin of that monster, but in his heart, he knew that he wasn't the creature in his memories.

The demons terrorizing the world were still running around. He knew they weren't demons, but rather as parts of himself. Each one was dangerous. Invidia was an exception in the end, but the others' mindsets were largely unknown. Knowing this, Syren couldn't falter. He had to continue on his journey. He had to help whoever he could in order to fix the terrible mistakes his former life made.

Syren was a monster in the past and perhaps at that very moment. But he didn't have to act like one. He didn't need or want to succumb to the same dark pleasures that his past self may have desired.

The original Syren was dead. The face he saw in the reflection of the puddle was his own. He touched the black tome that was attached to his side. It was completely dry even as the rest of his body was quenched in dirtied water. He remembered how he felt writing those poems. He was a child then. A child with so much imagination and creativity. A child that just wasn't good enough. A child that burned along with his notebook. A child that perhaps can be reborn from the ashes like a phoenix.

He looked back at Tyra not knowing that there were tears streaming down his cheeks. All Syren could say was two words. He smiled and said, "Thank you."