CLAWED MY WAY TO VICTORY
Madison
Red irises cracked open and glanced around at their surroundings, taking in the surrealism of the world they had just entered. Slowly, the woman pushed herself up to a seated position, raven hair cascading around her gown as she fixed her position she was in. A paled hand ran through the dark locks, pulling strands out of her face, so that she could get a better view of what was around her. Carefully, she lifted herself to her feet and dusted off the dirt that had collected onto her from where she had lain on the ground. She heaved a heavy sigh and looked around once more, thoughts running through her head as she decided what to do. With no real information about Dreamland, the best that she could do was wander around and hope for the best to happen. However, she didn’t know what to expect here, just that she knew she could not die and anything else in here could not die as well.
Dreamland was not a terrible place to be; in fact, Dreamland had such a surreal feeling to it, that it gave the world a beautiful feeling. Everything was so much brighter here, so much more vivid than she would have ever thought for them to be in the real world. She almost didn’t want to leave this place, but she knew that her time wasn’t to be enjoyed in here, though rather to help those trapped inside of Dreamland. They were people of little significance to her from her understanding, but people that had somehow gotten caught in the strange world. At this point, she wasn’t quite sure if Dreamland was a place at all, but a monster that fed upon the Life Force of those that lived. A figment of their imagination, dying to grasp hold of them and drag them down into oblivion, where they could never return from. Why nightmares though? Why terrify the ones that it wanted held captive? Was that the only way it could sap their Life Force from them?
Her feet began to carry her in a random direction, her mind too preoccupied by other things to really notice where she was going. She gazed longingly from one side of the land to the other, taking in all of the scenery as her feet brought her to her first destination. The farther she moved away from where she had lain, the more she began to notice the scenery became drearier and drearier. In a way, this made her curious, but at the same time, it was like she understood why the world had become that much darker. Dark hues crawled along the silent wasteland the deeper she went, sapping away the pleasantry of the world she was in. Every step farther that she took made her want to turn around and go back to the light than deeper into the shadows of nightmares. Something prevented her from turning around, something that she couldn’t quite grasp, but allowed to carry her to the first person she had to save.
Save. . . who knew that a Sinner of all people would be the one to descend into a place, known as Dreamland, and rescue rather than terrorize. Who knew that such a strange enigma as herself had the capability of coming to the rescue of those that needed her help? She had been destined to live alone, destined to hurt than help; yet, here she was, standing in the desolate landscape of a once peaceful place. It reminded her of Sin in a way, with how cold and forgotten the place had become compared to the life it had once been filled with. Now, she was roaming Dreamland as though it was just a replica of Sin, itself, haunting and drawing monsters out from the dark. The ache of not wanting to be here clawed at her bones, but her feet found no rooting and continued the way they were going. Nothing was stopping her from getting to the first person, no matter how deep, dark, and scary the world started to become to her.
Horrified screams filled the air, screams that if they were not listened to closely, it would be hard to discern who they were coming from. They were screams that she recognized, but screams that she also didn’t know who they belonged to because of the years of separation. These screams caused her to push her feet to move faster, carrying her across the blackened ground and into the shadows of someone’s nightmares. The darkness of the world, however, disappeared just as abruptly as it had began, bringing her into a land filled with light and happiness. Only, this place wasn’t happy; this place didn’t feel like it was a dream to her more than it was something haunting another person. She could feel it in her bones, the ache of wanting to get out of this nightmare and it overwhelmed her like it overwhelmed the little girl in the corner beyond. Red optics bore down upon the redhead, a look of concern crossing over their light before they looked away to take in the scenery.
A hiss filled the air, one that was gruesome and animistic, but didn’t exactly sound as though it was coming from a mammal or reptilian. Marceline glanced toward what would be considered the ceiling of the nightmare, only to notice an eight-legged monster hung over the girl. She frowned, eyebrows scrunched together, mind racing with thoughts on how to deal with something from Dreamland that could not be killed. Her first tactic was to attack, to draw the creature away from the child, but she knew that wouldn’t keep the creature at bay for long. It was a manifestation of the child’s worst fears, and the only way to get rid of it was to reassure the child it would never get her. Pressing off the heel of one foot, Marceline rushed toward the redhead and slid down onto her knees, grasping hold of the child in her arms. The child before her, it was her own, and it was her duty as a mother to show that nothing would ever hurt her little girl.
“Warum tust du weinen, meine Kind?” she murmured into the child’s ear, pulling her close to her so she could not see the monster above. She tightly wrapped her arms around Madison and let her bury her face into her shoulder, feeling the tears soak into her sleeve. Marceline cooed softly and rocked the child back and forth in her arms, petting her hair and keeping her close to her. “Bist du bange von die Monster unter deine Bett?” The question loomed in the air as she pressed her cheek to her daughter’s head. Combing her fingers lightly through the girl’s head, the woman waited for an answer from the fearful teenager in her arms. “Erinnern was dich gelernt. Wie du wirst woher von du bist gehen. Niemand wird du stoppen. Tust nicht sie lassen stoppen du. Tust nicht lassen deine Ängste stoppen du. Überwindest deine Ängste. Zeigen sie du bist nicht bange. Du bist der Nachfahre von ein König und Königin. Zeigen sie du bist mehr als gerade eine kleine Mädchen bange von Monster unter ihr Bett.”
“Aber Ich bin bange, Mama,” she whimpered into her shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of Marceline’s dress as she cried. “Ich bin bange es wird mich und du schmerzen. Ich bin bange Ich werde nicht von dies wiederkommen. Ich bin bange Ich bin allzu schwach.”
“Seitdem wann bist du allzu schwach?” Marceline inquired, pulling Madison away from her and looking her in the eyes. “Du bist der Nachfahre von ein König und Königin, wer sind beide stark; tust nicht glauben du bist nicht stark genug.”
A soft sniffling came from Madison and she watched as the child wiped tears from her eyes that stained her shirt and her own. Marceline gave her a soft smile and pulled her back into a hug, holding her there as the hissing of the spider slowly died away into nothingness. “Ich glaube heinen du, meine Kind,” she murmured into her ear, “Ich glaube du dürft gegen deine Ängste herrschen, und am meisten von alle, Ich liebe dich.”
Marceline felt the grip on her tighten and she squeezed back, rubbing the teen’s back softly as a means of comfort above all else. It was hard for her to be mothering, but she had seen it done enough in her time on Earthland that she could easily mimic it. Yet, a small part of her told her that she was not faking what she was saying to Madison in order to get her to feel better about herself. A small part of her was telling her that she was doing the right thing as a mother and comforting her child that was in need. All of it was new to her, but Madison seemed to be aware of what she was doing and accepting of the love she was giving her. Her undying heart? For a moment, it felt like it beat with the warmth of love, like it had not beaten in millenniums since her death. She gritted her teeth against the tingling feeling and for once in her life, she felt like crying out of love rather than out of loneliness.
She was beginning to see why the scientist had allowed her to enter Dreamland, not because she needed help, but to help her find herself. And that was what she was doing; she was finding herself among the lost and helpless, who she was meant to be. The hissing of the spider died away into silence and the darkness of the surrounding world began to lighten into love and affection. What she held in her arms stopped crying and when she looked down at her daughter, her form began to fade into particles of light. What she had done was successful, freeing her child’s spirit from what it was trapped it, so that it could return to the living realm. Whether Madison remember what had happened in her dream or not was beyond her own thoughts and not something she could think on. With others to save, she had to get a move on or who knew what would happen if she took too long in saving those that were trapped.
Morgana
Despite how pleasant the world looked to her, an inkling of a feeling crawled deep within that told her otherwise about Dreamland. Her gaze ran across the newly lit world, where Madison had just sat shortly ago, crying and bawling her eyes out about spiders. Spiders that loomed over her head, reaching out to grab ahold of her and drag her into the depths of despair over her lack of choosing. That’s what they had stood for, her fear of having to choose between two things that meant more to her than the world. It wasn’t the fear of spiders, themselves, they were just insects of lore, creatures that came to you in your dreams when they knew you lacked decision making. They made you think about your decisions, intimidated you into making the right one, and that was why she was scared. And it made her realize, Madison’s fear of being too weak, of choosing the wrong decision that would hurt someone, it was the same as hers.
Glancing away from the scenery, Marceline continued on foot, walking through the empty field that had once been a closed off room. Her eyes were downcast to the ground before her, never wanting to move upward and look at the beautiful place of Dreamland. It was all a lie to her, in a way, something that tricked a person into believing that they were safe and sound when they truly were not. All these people that she had come into Dreamland to save, they were trapped by their own fears, unable to ever escape themselves. Why would a place, known as Dreamland, keep its visitors from going back to the world they were meant to live in? More and more, she was beginning to think that Dreamland wasn’t a land at all, but an illusion that was created by a monster. That alone made more sense to her than a place as innocent as a dreamworld trapping people inside by their nightmares for no simple reason she could think of.
Marceline’s eyebrows scrunched together as a feeling drew over her, a crawling sensation of fear and wanting to get out of the place. At long last, her eyes began to notice that the grass she had been walking through had changed from thick to small patches across dirt. She noticed quickly after that the feet that carried her across the ground were not their usual gray, undead pale that she was used to. They were paled still, but had a healthy glow to them that gave way to her being alive over her being the undead she truly was. Each foot was dressed in a strange piece of fabric that only covered the tops of her feet and had beads that dangled off the sides. Her legs were very nearly bare until about knee-height, where harem pants covered the rest of her from those she was walking toward. Around her waist was a type of sash that had dangles similar to the beads on her feet, but they were flat, round, and tinkled with every step.
She looked up to see the world around her, only to notice that where she was at was a place she had yet to recognize here. Her arms were bound behind her back in shackles and chains, but held tightly where they bruised by two men that were each on one side of her. Marcy glanced between them and tugged at their grasps to test how strong their hold was, but found they only tightened with each move. Every movement that she made, it wasn’t her though; they were movements that she made, but her mind didn’t tell her to make them. It was as if they were being made by someone else, like someone else was controlling her body and trying to get away from them. They threw her down to her knees before a man that sat on a bamboo throne, leg crossed over the other, head resting on one hand. Lifting her head, Marceline glanced through long, pink hair, anger running through her veins as she was forced to remain on her knees.
The man before her didn’t say anything, but with a flick of his fingers, she was taken up by the two men and thrown into a cage. She hit the back bars of the cage, but wasn’t winded or hurt by the toss; instantly getting back to her feet and charging toward the open door. However, they slammed the door shut before she was even able to touch it, causing her to grab hold of the bars and scream out at them. Marceline couldn’t hear what she was screaming out at them, just that she knew and felt that she was screaming out at them in vain. When they were gone, she felt tears begin to spill over her cheeks and she cried, sliding down to the floor of the cage while still holding onto the bars. This pain, this fear, she recognized it so well from when she had been little, herself, locked away in her room in the castle. It was hard for her to not feel for this girl, whoever she happened to be, and it made her want to help her get out of the horrible situation.
So, she sat down with her, in her mind, looking around at the emptiness that shrouded what kept the girl so happy in life. “Who are you?” she called out into the darkness of Morgana’s mind, “and is this who you truly are or are you hiding from yourself?” She was only returned with silence, but that did not stop Marceline from continuing with what she planned on doing. “Answer me. . . tell me your name and who you are because I know this is not the girl that Life sent into the world as people’s guide.” A small part of her felt she like she already knew who this person was, despite truly having never met this girl in her entire life. “If you won’t tell me who you are, then let me tell you because I think you need to know exactly who you are and what to do.” Again, Marceline was met with silence, as if Morgana was trying to avoid answering her, trying to avoid acknowledging that she was here.
“You are Morgana Hart. You are a guardian spirit of the people and of light. There is nothing that can hold you down. You are freedom.” Marceline stared into the emptiness until she began to see a small light form in front of her, slowly, but ever-growing in size. “You are a mother to the people of Earthland, you guide them in their times of need. You are a spirit who cannot be bound or captured.” The light continued to grow until, at long last, Morgana stood in front of her, a look of sorrow on her face as she listened to her words. She stood to her feet and approached the spirit, staring eye-to-eye with her, a stern look on her face as she let the words sink in. “You are Morgana Hart. . .” she began, only to be interrupted by the one being that was afraid to answer her calls at first.
“A guardian spirit of the people and of light. Nothing can hold me down. I am freedom,” Morgana finished the mantra Marcy created for her.
A smile crossed over her lips as she listened to the spirit repeat what she had told her word for word as though she meant it.
“I am a mother to the people of Earthland, I guide them in their times of need. I am a spirit who cannot be bound or captured. . .” Morgana continued. “I am Morgana Hart, I cannot be bound or captured, and there is nothing that can stop me from being who I truly am!” The same smile that crossed over Marceline’s lips were now plastered widely on Morgana’s, as though the happiness was returning to her.
“Not even the darkness that you fear can stop you; you are a spirit of light, shine that light where the darkness is most apparent and the darkness will go away. Never be afraid of something that is more afraid of you; show that you are the one in control of your life and cannot be held down.” She reached out and grasped hold of the woman’s shoulder, giving it a small, comforting squeeze of hope and resilience against her fears.
Morgana, in response to the squeeze, pushed her hand away and pulled Marceline into an embrace that was meant to thank her. It took her by surprise for a moment, but she returned the hug, holding the woman there for as long as she wanted to be held there. What was nice to see was that she had given the woman inspiration enough to know that she was not as trapped as she believed herself to be. “Continue your life not in fear of what’s to come or what may be hiding in the shadows. If you are afraid, simply shine your light upon it. When you do that, things will become clearer and you will have no reason to fear that the darkness will consume you and your hopes.”
“I give thanks for what you have done for me,” Morgana answered her, “you have shown me the light just as I would’ve shown people their light.” She began to fade into particles of light just as Madison had, leaving Marceline in the emptiness of what had once been the campsite.
That was two people she had saved and, to be honest, it had been a lot easier than she had expected for them both to be. It was kind words and hope that allowed for them to be untrapped by their nightmares and look for the hope she gave them. She hoped, herself, that they would continue to remember what she had told them in their nightmares and perhaps, prevent them from anymore. But when she looked back upon the two she had saved, she couldn’t help feeling that, in a way, they represented her own fears. Silly to think of such a thing, but what had been given to her felt that they were the same as her own fears, just shown differently. Perhaps, they were not even real people she had to save, but figments of her own imagination that allowed her to see her own fears. Letting out a sigh, Marceline began on her trek again, pushing aside the thoughts as she sought out the next she was meant to save.
Sakura
Each step that she took, she found it to be harder to take the next, as though something was holding her back or she was getting weaker. Eventually, she came to a stop, staring ahead of herself and finding that no matter how she tried to move, she just couldn’t move. Soon, she dropped to her knees and knelt there, simply staring across the landscape as it slowly changed from one place to the next. She found herself no longer kneeling in a campsite full of human cages, but a room very similar to the one she grew to know so well. Her red eyes glanced around at each piece of the scenery, taking in what it gave to her and how it haunted her mind to see it again. Panic slowly began to settle into her bones, but as much as she wanted to get to her feet and run away, something held her down. It forced her to stare at the bedroom she had grown and died in, haunt her with the memories of past she no longer wished to remember.
She raised her hands to her head and combined her fingers through her hair, pulling it outward so she could see what it looked like. What had once been black locks that shaped to her form were now golden curls that looped endlessly to the floor where she knelt. Tears trickled down her cheeks and collided into one at her chin before splattering to the ground in a clear mess no longer the black she shed naturally. Her eyes wandered from the wooden floorboards where her hair decorated its base to the plain walls that lacked any form of enchantment to keep the eyes busy. No decorations, no paintings, nothing that would make the room feel more vibrant and happy than it did dreary and plain, almost sorrowful. Voices echoed just outside of the doors to her room, just inaudible enough that she was not able to determine what they were saying. The urge to cry out for help or acknowledgement ached in her, but she found that she had no voice, just as she had no strength to move.
Yet, just as the room had been created, the room quickly disappeared and she was left in the darkness of the Dreamland world once again. Marceline blankly stared at the landscape around her, the empty darkness that consumed her very being and encompassed her safely. She didn’t know how to react or respond to such a sudden disappearance of the room that she had been haunted by for millenniums. However, she felt safer with not being able to see it than she had when she was locked away and hearing the muffled voices beyond. But the comforting of the darkness quickly faded as the room had and she was left in a strange place with no familiarity to her. A room that made her wonder who it belonged to and why she could not familiarize herself with such an odd environment as this one. Slowly, she stood to her feet and glanced around, swiftly noticing that she was not the height was used to seeing everything at anymore.
Concern crossed over her face, but she meandered around the room to have a look-over of what exactly she was standing inside of. Beyond her reach was a twin bed, gently made and covered in a sheet that had a flowery pattern of various soft colors that complemented each other. Before that was a wooden chest that was, oddly filled with clothes all neatly folded and set aside to never be used again by the one who owned them. No toys littered the floor, but a rug stood in front of her, passively giving the room a pleasant feel compared to what she felt before. The room was less of a worry than what she looked like, feeling shorter than she had before and less like herself she was used to. Again, she ran her fingers through her hair and found that it was short, and pulling it into her view, it was a darker blonde than her own. A frown creased her lips, her eyebrows scrunched together, and as quickly as she held her hair, the hand holding it went limp and fell to her side.
“What is going on?” she inquired to herself, though the voice that called out the question did not sound like her own voice at all. “Why can I not feel my arm? Why does it refuse to move? It was just working a moment ago, it has no reason to stop working!” Panic began to settle in her voice, tears edging at her eyes, the one arm that still worked moved to grab hold of the other and move it around. She could feel every bit of the movement, it was just that she could not get the muscles in her arm to appropriately work to get it to move. The fear settled quickly into her body and tingled all over, forcing her heart to race to the point it felt like it was going to burst. Wait. . . she was not meant to have a heartbeat, yet here she felt the beat of her heart racing in her chest like it was the most normal thing ever. Who exactly was she and why was she as weak as she was? Why could she not move her limbs like she so wished to do at the moment?
Holding her weakened arm, the woman rushed toward the door of her room and reached out to grab the handle, twisting it open. Yet, the moment she turned the knob and pulled the door free of its latch, her hand became numb and limp just like the other. Tears pricked at her eyes again, a loss of understanding as to why her limbs up and decided that they no longer wanted to work. She didn’t know who to call out to for help, just that she had to call someone for attention, to get their attention and hope for help. So, she screamed the one word that she thought she would never call out to anyone in the millenniums that she had lived, “Mom!” And as soon as she called out that single word, footsteps came rushing from somewhere inside of the strange home to her aid. A silhouette of a woman skidded to a halt and knelt to her knees, pulling her daughter into her grasp to help her calm down.
“I can’t move my arms, Mom. I’m scared! Why can’t I move them?” she inquired, the words spilling out of her mouth like a waterfall. “They were working just fine a moment again, but seconds later they stopped working and fell limp, and now I can’t move them!” The tears began to spill down her cheeks and stain the cloth of her mother’s clothing with the fear that she was feeling over the situation.
“There’s nothing to fear, Honey; we’ll figure something out,” her mother answered her in an attempt to reassure her everything will be all right.
Yet, she didn’t know if everything would be all right; she had never experienced this kind of fear or hopelessness in her entire life. She felt as though nothing would go back to the way it was, that she would be left to wonder when all of this would take her pain wholly away. And for once in her life, she felt like she could sympathize with the girl because on the day of her death, she thought the very same.
“I’m so sorry, Sakura; I wish I could tell you more, but I just don’t know, Sweetie,” her mother’s voice rang into her ears again.
Marceline frowned and even let out a tiny, inaudible sigh, wanting to help the girl who was fearful of her own disease and body. “You know, I was scared at one point as well; I didn’t understand what was happening to me and I didn’t want to die, just as you feel. But I learned something, living in fear of your own self is more harmful to you than it is to live out your days to the fullest. You may have a short life and you may not get to experience everything that you want to experience, but see what you get to see in the time you have now. Once you leave this world, it’s not permanently; you can choose to live again as someone else or live out your eternity in a land where no such badness exists. This world offers you so much and you should not be afraid of what it gives you, but embrace the hardships it gives you to overcome.”
“How can I experience a world where I cannot touch or feel the things that I wish to?” Sakura inquired softly, sniffling as she spoke. “How can I experience a world where I cannot walk to go to the places that I wish to see, smell, and hear? What do I do then?”
“Get the help of others; you are not in this alone, never think you are alone. Look at your mother,” Marceline answered her. “She is there to comfort you and help you through the illness that you so fear, not to harm you or leave you to suffer. I did not have that when I went through my disease; all I had was myself and the longing wish that it would end my suffering quickly. Do not fear illnesses and do not fear your own body when you have people around you who will help you get through it. It should not make you feel trapped, but rather help you to experience the world from all points of view, no matter how horrible it may seem.”
Another sniffle and she felt Sakura wiggle free of her mother and try to rid herself of the tears that stained her dirtied cheeks. “You’re right, there’s no reason to fear something that is fleeting, but rather to embrace it as an experience and learn to grow with it. Thank you.”
She smiled at her words and gave a small nod of her head, not saying anymore to Sakura as the scenery began to change around her. Despite being a Sinner, despite being someone who harmed those that she tried to help, it was not her main interest to see them suffer. What she wanted most was to see them happy and to enjoy Life to the fullest, just as much as she enjoyed watching Life grow. And with three people saved from Dreamland, she felt she was getting better at interacting with them and solving their issues and hers. They did not seem scared of her and that’s what she liked the most, but perhaps it was because they could not see what she looked like.
Fenghuang
All those years ago, she believed that she wouldn’t have ever been able to escape the cage that was known to many as simply her room. She remembered constantly staring out the window and watching her siblings playing in the gardens with each other, wishing she could join them. Everyday, it became a routine thing to sit at her window and listen to them screaming and laughing, living out their lives unlike her. Her windowsill often had chipped painting because of how often she cried and wept that she would be allowed outside for once. Yet, every time that she asked, she was told no because it was too dangerous for someone who was as weak as she happened to be. But, she didn’t feel weak, she didn’t feel sick, she felt perfectly fine, and so, she felt she was being denied what she wished for the most. So much so, that she began to believe that she wasn’t the King’s daughter, but a slave who was set to be tortured for the rest of her life.
She longed to breathe in the fresh air of the outside world, but even trying to open her window was a feat that was impossible for her. No, she didn’t have weak muscles, or weak anything for that matter, the window was nailed shut in order to keep her from opening it. That was something she didn’t understand, but quickly came to accept that she would never be allowed to experience the world beyond her room. More and more, she became a slave to her own castle than one of the heirs to the throne, and the light was slowly starting to shine down on her. Her father didn’t love her like the rest of the children, that became clearer to her the longer the days passed by with no word from him. The only interaction she ever had with him was if a servant of the castle had been cast up to her room in order to feed and, essentially, “water” her. Though all the food she ate and all the drinks she drank, they were items that she eventually threw up in a bucket because of their foul taste.
Somehow, or someway, her father was trying to poison her she believed, and thus, she started to throw up anything that he gave to her. She lost her trust in someone that she loved so dearly, but no matter how much trust she lost in him, she still had a profound amount of love toward him. He may have hated every ounce of her being, but she loved every ounce of his being and would do anything to get his attention. Although he treated her horribly, she became closer and closer to him, her mind quickly deceived by thoughts that yes, he was merely trying to protect her and she should listen. Her body, however, was slowly deteriorating just as he wanted, leaving her weak in both the mind and the body by the end of her time. And her time quickly came as years swept by, and before long, she was lying sick as a dog in only bed she had ever grown to know. No friends, no family, all she could do was stare up at the ceiling and wish the pain away, until at long last, the pain finally disappeared.
They were nightmares of her own, she quickly came to realize, all these people representations of things in her life she wished no longer to feel. She shouldn’t fear to hurt people because no matter how hard she tried to make everyone happy, someone else was always going to be sad. The illness that she had in her original body was no illness at all, but the torture of a father who didn’t love the daughter he created. No reason did she have to fear such a thing when she could embrace the evilness that her father had once been before his own death. Nor should she ever feel as though she was caged because never once in her life was she truly caged like she had been when she was little. And only then was it a small thing that she had to remember was in her past and did not have to fear ever happening again to her. Being her own person, she had the capability to create her own fate; no reason did she have to feel that it was otherwise for herself.
And so, when she saw that brunette standing before her, shackled in chains that hung precariously around her and attached to large, metal loops, she felt sad. The girl that stood before her didn’t look happy-go-lucky, but Marceline could feel that she had once been a bubbly and friendly teenager. She could sense the jealousy and greed that lay within, but they were all so buried by the happiness she felt, she merely dismissed it. But the happiness she came to feel from the girl, that was buried beneath fear and sorrow that were now apparent on her face. Marceline wanted to call out to her, but no matter how she tried to get the girl’s attention, it was clear she was not yet meant to interact with her. No sign was given showing that Fenghuang had seen her in the dark and moldy room that they were currently standing in, let alone felt her presence. So, she took this as her time to study Fenghuang, to see how she was meant to help this girl escape from the nightmare she was having.
What she didn’t understand was why Fenghuang was shackled in such a small room that had no space for air to come through. It was like they were suffocating, but at the same time, they were able to breathe and move around in the room like it wasn’t some sort of torture chamber. But who had shackled her to the ceiling and flooring? Who was cruel enough to leave her limply standing there, waiting for death? Marceline wandered around Fenghuang, her gaze raking the girl up and down as she took in everything that was laid out before her. Only then did she begin to notice that Fenghuang wasn’t properly dressed, her clothing was tattered and some of it lay on the ground in pieces. They were ripped and torn over her arms and legs, but it was more apparent that they were ripped and bloody on her back. This gave way to evidence that Fenghuang wasn’t here of her own accord, but rather that she had been captured and thrown into this hellhole.
She was held captive in a place that she longed not to be in, tortured by her captors with chains and whips that bloodied her body. Marceline gritted her teeth and glanced around at the room, but all that she saw was only the moldy, stone walls that surrounded them. Instinctively, the woman reached out toward the chains that bound Fenghuang to the ceiling and grabbed hold of them in her hand. Lightly, she jangled the chains, hearing them move around with her weight as she tugged and tried to pull the girl free of her shackles. Her actions caused Fenghuang to stiffen and look around, as though she was afraid that someone was here to whip her more. This caused Marceline to frown in sorrow, hating seeing the young girl so fearful of her own life at even just the slightest of sounds. She stopped moving the chains and let them go, letting them clatter and move around until they came to a stop on their own.
“Don’t be afraid, Fenghuang, I am not here to hurt you,” she spoke out, letting her voice envelop the girl in the tiny space they were in. “You are not ready to pass on quite yet; there is more to this world for you than you realize and you have yet to experience it. What I am here for, however, is to help you get free of these chains because no one should be forced to live bound by the laws of others.” And that was the truth, she believed that no matter who it was, who they were in the hierarchy of the world, they were lawmakers of themselves. Never should a person ever feel obligated to follow the laws of another person because that person has more authority than they do. They could make and follow their own rules and never fear to be punished for disobeying the rules of another person, who apparently had more power than them. That was the goal of Savage Skull. To see it through that people could follow their own laws and live life how they wished to live it.
And so, with that being said, the woman reached out to the chains and grabbed hold of them, letting them melt away with her touch. “You have been whipped and held captive for far too long, and that is something that I will never stand for,” she spoke again. “The reason to this is because when I was smaller, my father did the same thing that is happening to you right now, and I do not like that. For so long, I was held captive in a room, unable to open windows and breathe in the outside world or eat the food given to us by Earthland. Slowly, I starved to death by the hands of my own father, and while it may not be whips like you have dealt with, they were whips to my consciousness. So, I sympathize with you and wish nothing more for you to go free of this nightmare that has held you bound for so long. Do not let these fears stop you. Overcome them and show the world that you are stronger than what they see you to be.”
She let the chains drop away, freeing Fenghuang was from captivity she was held in, and watching as the girl looked to her in fear and confusion. No other words were exchanged between the two before the girl stood clumsily to her feet and ran toward the open door of the chamber. Marceline stood silently where she had freed the girl, solemn faced and holding the chains that had once held Fenghuang bound to destiny. Only to toss them away and exit the room, herself, no longer wishing to be where it reminded her too much of her own past. No, she wasn’t fearful of her past, she hated it though, she hated every ounce of her father and the more her memories pulled through, the more she hated him. However, he was long gone now and she had no reason to feel such hatred toward him now that he was not within the living realm. Yet, she couldn’t help to feel the disdain toward him that crawled through her veins and made her want to lash out at the world.
WC: 7,144
MISTRESS OF THE UNIVERSE, POWERFUL AND STRONG
MADE BY ★MEULK