The Death Blossom Chronicles - 4 - Into This World Evil Has Come

Resulting from the Fourth Great War, Atman-253 is a drug that fundamentally alters the recipient, revealing their true nature. The death-to-life transformation known as The Death Blossom .

Paul walked into the drab transformation room. Medium length jet black hair styled with the exact amount of control and abandon dictated by the current fashion. A clean pressed look about his sky blue Oxford button down and crisp wool slacks. Shockingly blue eyes that shown deeper than the ocean and a smile that captivated all who might observe it. He gave every appearance of being totally in control. The epitome of style and congeniality. He displayed the hallmark signs of an engineered persona. Paul was clearly a Partial.

 

Not all who occupy the Ward World have undergone transformation, even in its limited form. That process is usually reserved for those that are engineered to fit specific roles, or those whose personality and psychology profiles require alignment to fit the betterment of society mission. The psychological engineers apply controlled amounts of Atman-253 to these designated individuals and guide their mental development to fit a role or class that is currently in demand. Since the development of their nature is halted at the point necessary to support their selected role their transformation is only Partial.

 

Paul is a Partial. For him there was an innate alignment between crucial elements of his true nature and the role which he ultimately occupied. Natural leadership ability and strong love of children make for a dynamic and powerful teacher. He has the ability to command an audience, effortlessly capturing their attention and skillfully inspiring their imagination. He respects the students in his charge, treating them more as equals then as children. These cornerstones of leadership and love form the core and foundation of Paul’s soul.

 

It is important to understand the psychological components of a Partial. While they are not complete predictors of the path the Traveler will take through The Beginning, they often are retained as essential elements of the true nature. True name is one of the first things to emerge in The Beginning, though not often expressed until late in the process. Given the combination of these factors Partials are often able to return to their lives in the Ward World, as they can readily pass the cursory personality screenings used to detect alterations, both natural and induced. So, Paul will return to being Paul. He will have full access to the Ward World as he did before. It is because of this that we seek to work with Partials, allowing us to place disruptive elements within the engineered structure. By these actions we hope to someday weaken the foundation of the World to allow for the Revolution. The Revolution of free choice.

 

The exact journey that a Traveler takes through the Death Blossom process is neither predictable nor certain. The death can be calm and serene, or violent and painful. Similarly with The Beginning. The path is also rarely correlated with the “quality of outcome”, good outcomes can be arrived at through a violent transformation while tragedy can be accompanied by a calm transition. These are the concerns of a Guide, so as I hand the Death Blossom capsule to Paul I steel myself toward any possibility. Paul toke the capsule from my hand and nodded approvingly. He walked the mattress lying in the middle of the sparse room and positioned himself comfortably in the center of it. Lying on his back he looked over at me and calmly stated, “Can we begin?” Nodding my approval I watched as Paul deposited and swallowed the capsule in one smooth motion. I watched as yet another life, even though temporarily, slipped from this world. Paul took several shallow measured breaths, slowly closed his brilliant blue eyes, and calmly passed through the veil of the mysterious void which is death. During this process I began to connect empathically to Paul and the last sense that I had from his conscience was that of complete and total joy.

 

I sensed a stirring in landscape of Paul’s soul. I immediately sensed the remnant peaks of the strong leadership characteristics and the love for children that Paul retained from his Partial. I focused on these features and expected more of the details of his nature to build around them. As The Beginning progressed I sense no real development of these centers of his nature, or for that matter anything else forming or emerging. There was no physical reaction either. My sense was that of the complete and total joy which he had expressed in his nature just prior to his recent death. I continued to reach out into his soul to find and nurture the emerging elements of his nature. Yet, though I extended every fiber of my being I could not detection even the slightest emergence of further thought, emotion or nature.

Intent on finding the emergence of Paul’s complete being I did not sense the changes as they rapidly progressed around me. I suddenly felt first the ice cold stab of darkness, complete darkness save for the infinite two mountains that now towered over me. The darkness began to draw from me all of my energy and essence, as it did transforming from blackness, darkness, cold and dread to void. The void was impenetrable in any fashion. My mind felt the pressures of both simultaneous compression and growing expansion. I reeled in pain and ecstasy, screaming a silent oath, seeing the invisible and yet not comprehending. Both hope and fear began to fade and was left with the utter simplicity of being, neither dead nor alive. Just being. Being of and in the void, not of this world nor outside of this world.

 

As my very identity of being began to fade into the void I felt a small and far off sensation. I could no more recognize it than I could form any sense of thought or object within the void. Slowly the sensation of a receding tide comes into the minor threads that comprise what is left of my mind. Gently at first the tide swells, quickly growing to a tidal wave of thought, emotion, realization and confusion. Consciousness begins to form and I realize both a flood entering into my mind and a vastly large eddy of the void swirling around my mind. Images are emblazoned on my reforming mind, to quickly and too complex for me to interpret. As the void recedes I feel a single radiating thought, glowing brightly, forcing the void into darkness and driving the darkness from me. No words can describe the pure beauty of the pure light which envelopes me, but a name it has and that name is, “Ella!”

 

As the realization hits me I am thrust back into the physical world. Lying tightly curled up in a ball sobbing flesh. Every inch of my being and body screams with pain. I find my voice and it joins in the insane chorus of anguish. Over the screams I hear Paul’s voice speaking without words, “I have no interest in this one. He is of little use to me. I can only save the innocents, so I leave him to you, but I will hold onto this edge of his being, such that he can observe my great works to come. This you must permit or I will certainly steal him back into the void.” A silent consent is reached and I vaguely hear the calm tapping of footsteps as the Beast escapes the room.

 

Still unable to move the flood of images churns within my head. I realize that the two pillars of Paul’s soul had finally been revealed just before I was consumed by the void. The towering mountains of Power and Innocence. This is confusing even as I realize his final words, “I can only save the innocents.”

 

Then there is the recollection of an exchange between the void and the bright pure light. It does not form into words, but the essence of the thought crystallizes in my mind. “I had long been waiting for you. Without you my existence is denied, but with your transformation my release was enabled. We are ever locked in coexistence, I owe my being to your existence.” As these thoughts coalesce I feel another presence in my mind, gently touching my thoughts. “Ra, be calm. Become slowly if you can. You must save your strength for the images to come. I will guide you where possible and cradle you in the desperation. Know that you are not alone.”

 

I find myself in a stark white room, at the center of which is a sterile table with the quiet figure of a small child. The child, appearing to be perhaps 4 years old, lies rigid and silent on the table. The skin of the child from this distance appears to be a strange shade of pink swirled in almost blinding white. As I approach the details of delicate lines tracing out intricate patterns on the skin of the child become evident. I am drawn to inspect ever closer, while striving with every fiber of my being to run from this place. As I touch the arm of the child I feel the rigid muscles beneath the skin, clenched tight from the strain of pain. Small drops of blood emerge from the scroll work that covers the skin, coalescing and dropping to the table. Slowly the drop of blood rolls over sterile metal the surface toward the foot of the table, disappearing through a drain placed there. I look back up over the body of the nameless child and realize that every inch of exposed skin has been covered with razor thin slices forming the scroll work pattern, and that through these incisions every drop of life, every drop of blood has been drained. As I raise my eyes toward the far wall I see a small tray, still adorned with the cruel instruments of torture, and suddenly I hear screams of anguish. First one, then a chorus, then hundreds, then too numerous to recognize or fathom. While my mind borders on the edge of insanity I feel but a small sense of support. Clinging to the fragile edge of the world I hear Paul’s voice, “I can only save the innocents and only through pain can they realize the joy of salvation.”

 

The screams slowly subside, but they do not recede. I find myself back in my own body, coming closer to a connection with reality. Slowly I open my eyes. Through the tears which well in my eyes and run down across my anguished face I see a glow. I blink my eyes and the glow forms into an image. Coarsely I whisper, “Ella?”, and I am enveloped by the glow. I feel somewhat safe, for now, as I am cradled in her warmth, but I know that into this world evil has come and the Beast is free to roam among us.

Author's Note

I realize that this story can still be improved. I will not limit your comments. All comments that would improve the story or my writing are welcome.