Chapter 6: Hemophobia

 

It was another one of those nights where the mirror was on his mind again, and all he thought of was ‘what's next?’. With the possible ideas racing through his mind back and forth, he took the chance to take another look. Fulgur Ovid, the cyborg archivist got off of his stream roughly twenty minutes ago and the first thing he did was walk to that mirror again to see what was in it this time, and all he saw was himself, but with tears in his eyes, but the tears were crimsoned. He tried to wipe the tear off of his own face, but his own face was dry. The only thing he could do was reach out the reflection and attempt to wipe the crimson tear. The thing that was irregular about this tear was that the tear was thicker and slightly clumpy, like a raspberry jam filled with seeds, than the average tear. While he reached, Fulgur stepped through the mirror entering the next danger of a phobia that could trigger a lot of fight or flight responses.

Fulgur stepped through the mirror frame and what he saw was a kitchen, filled with pots and pans, utensils included. The counters are lined with ingredients to make dinner events worth of steaks, fishes, vegetables and pastas. Was this a catering or food related phobia? Is there even a catering phobia? He turned back towards the mirror, his clothes and hair changed styles when he stepped through, he had a black turtleneck sweater on, covered with a ivory white jacket that fell just slightly beyond the waist, his cynets were visible on his hands and wrists, showing the pop of metallic red. He’s wearing slender black dress pants, along with the same colored shoes to complete the look, simple yet formal. His hair combed to the left, slicked back showing off his tattoo on the right eye with a confused expression on his face. 

“Fuu-chan! Let’s get started with the meal prep already! Hurry you don’t want to miss the fun!” A cheerful voice called out to him from behind, alarming him just for a second, but when he turned back around to see the kitchen was now filled with faces that he recognized and felt comfort in. 

The personification of the sheep pile, the Comfysonas, two that striked out towards him the most was Athene, another Legatus from the future and Arina, a magical dragon-like entity smiling to each other while helping the other Comfysonas prepare some of the ingredients. Athene guides a group of three on how to properly blanch the vegetables to glaze them with a wine reduction while Arina is assisting a group of two peeling ingredients for a fried rice stir-fry. Confused, Fulgur joins the trio including Athene. Athene stops her sentence midway to shift the attention onto Fulgur. 

“Hey, look at you Fulgur. You’re looking really nice. Are you sure you didn’t have plans already? We can finish this if you have plans.” Athene asked Fulgur in a mother-like tone. “You look horrified, what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. Just peachy, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it.” Fulgur responded looking around attempting to understand all of this, and to understand the phobia that lied here. Why him? Why now?

“Well, if you’re okay then, what wine would you like paired with the meat? I have a 1982 Chinati or a 2001 Merlot, whatever suits your fancy, you did plan this after all.” Athene mentions to him gently, Fulgur looking at her with a glare when she mentions the deep red wines, both different in taste, but the same in color. Deep like the darkest of hues on a sunrise, deep like a tragic tale that ends in bloodshed. 

“I…I just need a second…” Fulgur replies and another comfydant quickly grabs a chair for him to sit down, heartbeat racing, his cynet hands shaking. But why? What emotion is he supposed to feel? No one knows, but the mirror knows all. “Athene…can I…have some water…I have a migraine..”

“Of course. Just give me a second, alright?” Athene asks someone to take care of the vegetables while she gets the water and Fulgur starts to take quick inhales, attempting to relieve the pain from his throbbing head, he sees small flashes of red that’s aligned with the throbbing. Was he Yukimasa? But Athene said ‘Fulgur’, only time will tell.

One, Two, Three, Hold.

Four, Five, Six, Release. 

He repeated that two more times before Arina’s overhears the sharp inhales from the panicked cyborg. Curious, Arina makes her way towards him and puts a hand on his shoulder in comfort. 

“Hey Fuu-chan. Just relax, you’re okay. No one is going to hurt you.” Arina said with the softest smile she could give to anyone. Arina had a lot of sympathy for others around her.

“Thanks Arina, but it’s not that I’m concerned about…it’s red…all of it…it’s deep red.” Fulgur talks slower, more calm and serene. Arina, looking perplexed, reaches out to Athene grabbing the glass of water from her, handing it to Fulgur to drink. He takes it and quickly drinks it without taking a breath, gasping for air, he takes a deeper breath than before and he realigns himself. “What were we talking about again?”

“Are you sure you’re alright Fulgur, this isn’t like you at all. Have you been planning streams for the rest of the year again?” Athene asks him, concern rises in her voice. 

“Slightly, here and there. I’m also going on break soon. I’ll be okay.” He mentions. 

“Well, take a minute to relax. We’re gonna finish cooking, alright?” Arina pats him on the shoulder just like how he pets the sheep when the comfydants makes him emotional. The two girls get back to work to finish making dinner.  Two hours passed by and Fulgur helped with the preparation when he wanted to but the two girls kept telling him to relax and let them handle things. They cooked in the forest before, it couldn’t be that hard to cook a large grand scale meal. 

“Ow, I cut my finger, I need a bandage.” Arina whispered while cutting some lettuce. Fulgur’s eyes rose slowly at the word ‘cut’, he got up and no one noticed that he was sitting near some of the utensils, one of them was a long, slender meat knife that was triangular in shape but wide in size. Athene noticed the slow movement from Fulgur and had a slight idea of what he was planning. Athene’s eyes widened in the possible horror and moved towards Arina quickly.

“Arina, move!” Athene yelled in a panic rushing over to her and pushing her slightly so whatever happened, Athene would be the victim of this phobia. Fulgur walked in front of Athene, sweat dripping down her face, ready to fight if needed. But it was too late, he pierced the knife into her abdomen, turning it to make a small hole, when her pained filled eyes were locked onto Fulgur’s silver calm delicate eyes. 

“What was that? ….Huh?” Arina turns to see her friend impaled by her beloved shepard. “Athene! What happened!? Oh my god!”

“Tell me why….why her? This…isn’t like you…Fulgur..” Athene said, while taking deep breaths attempting to prolong her life, just slightly. Her body stumbles and falls backwards as Arina tries to catch her before landing harshly on the cold tile floor, now scented with iron and colored with a deep red.

No answer escapes his mouth, but a slight grin appears. 

“Tell me now, Fulgur!” Athene called out at him, gripping the bottom of his jacket, pulling him closer to Athene by an inch or two, now stained red from the stab wound. She pulled herself away from the attack slightly closer to Arina’s warm body, covering the wound with her bloodstained hand. “W-Why...what made y-you sn…snap?”

Fulgur sees the red all over his hand, his now dyed jacket with a bloodstained handprint, and the bloodsoaked acquaintance in front of him. He takes sharp inhales again, trying to regain his composure, he reaches out to help Athene but he stumbles backwards with a horrific migraine. Red filled his eyes again harmonizing with the throbs once again. He finally understood, he isn’t a fictional beast. He’s living as one.

One, Two, Three, Hold.

Four, Five-fuck it.

He snapped. Snapped to a being that didn’t belong to him. Laughter, laughter was coming out of Fulgur’s mouth with the echoes of silence that soon came after. Fulgur raised his head towards the pair, noticing the other five people disappeared. 

“Did…we have enough meat for dinner my dears?” His voice was suave, slow, embracive, professional. It wasn’t a far difference then it was, it wasn’t fun or familiar, it was cold and forgotten, encased with violence. “I didn’t see any…would you mind…being the main course my dear friend?”

“Why would you stab her?! She didn’t do anything wrong!” Arina protested holding the unstable Athene, slowly losing life. “And what do you mean by ‘main course’?! Answer me!” A chuckle releases from Fulgur once again.

“Her blood would be a delicious glaze for the vegetables. And her meat would be extremely tender, since you’re a Legati, no?” His eyes pierced the wounded Athene taking sharp inhales to keep herself alive, not talking to waste energy. “And you, Arina, a mercenary, you have so much endurance. Your calves would be decadent with a smooth Chardonnay, or better yet, a Martinelli Zinfandel.” 

"Don't…talk to her like she's food….you disgusting obese rat…" Athene mumbled through her gritted teeth. 

"But she is food, food for pleasure, food for memory. It allows me to experiment with temperatures and spices on a delicate piece of meat." Fulgur says slyly, realizing he can hear a different voice come out, but the voice from the real world is screaming with agony and terror, pleading for this nightmare to end. 

"You're not the Fulgur I know….what the hell….possessed you?" Athene continued to backfire the entity inside her shepard. "What are you….a liability for…the culinary world..or something?" She chuckled trying to get at least one good hit on him, it didn’t matter how. She was going to land an attack.

With that question spoken, Fulgur impaled her again and Athene screamed out in pain, the knife went all the way through the body and Athene knew she was going to die right there, in her best friend's arms. She looked at Arina and whispered something to her. Fulgur pulled the knife out of the corpse of Athene, as the body laid flat against the floor, her eyes lifeless.

"Fulgur…come back to us….take our hands..don’t be led astray…you have to guide us…" Athene says to the entity as her last words and tears roll down her eyes onto the floor. “You have to come back! Please!”

Arina attempts to grab the knife from Fulgur swiftly moves her throat, becoming slit and she holds her crimson soaked neck. 

"Who..are you?" Arina muttered out, coughing up blood. 

"You don't know? Oh I'm so sorry that I didn't introduce myself before your ‘friend’ died. I’m known as Alan Binc, it's a pleasure to meet you before you become my meal this fine evening." Fulgur said before slicing her neck and she fell over with a pained look on her face. 

Crimson, bodies, and joy. These were the things Fulgur knew what he was trying to avoid but he couldn't deny. Fulgur snapped back to himself and he saw the two girls covered in crimson, sprayed like a child who discovered finger painting. Call this child's play, but it was a demonic and cruel sense of the term. 

“Wh-What happened!? What have I done!?” Fulgur whispered to himself, blinking quickly in a panic as he looked at Arina’s body that’s still bleeding out rapidly, she’s gasping for air as she reaches out to Fulgur’s cold yet wet hand. 

“F-Fuu-chan….h-help her…please..” Arina pleads quietly to him as she grabs it softly and a few seconds later, the grip on her hand loosens and as it falls back down. “Sh-She isn’t going to make it….”

Fulgur catches it and holds it for a few minutes, panicking at what he should do, staining his cynets a deeper red. Panic flooded into Fulgur’s mind, making him spin around and around to see red, red, and more red. He looked everywhere and all he saw was red. He looked back down to the corpses and the both of them were glaring at him. Glares that could scare a militia member to hell and back, a glare that would shake the heavens. His head started to ache again, pounding every three heartbeats. 

“Ngh! AHH!” He grabbed his head and swung it around trying to get the demon out of him, yet to no avail. He screamed out in pain and found himself looking at his blood coated reflection again, still in the white and black simple ensemble, but all of the blood was gone, like it never happened. He took a few deep breaths knowing the crime couldn’t be reversible. 

Silence filled the room like an empty dark abyss, his sanctuary, the horizon filled with white and a tint of forest green. Recollecting the green color as the comfydants home known as ‘The Forest’, he needed to escape this white eternity, so he begun to walk, slowly. Walking instead of running, allowing him to acknowledge the phobia and sometimes, hemoglobins are worse than red fruit jams. A few minutes of constant walking he walked into the fun filled forest, the sun felt warm and comfortable. Fulgur heard a few small voices, so he followed the voices only to see two similar lumps. 

He turned towards the lumps expecting a set of bodies from earlier, but it was smaller sheeps, shearing each other to make scarves for the upcoming winter. With a little ‘baa’ from the two sheep working on making the Christmas colored yarn, Fulgur relaxes and smiles that the nightmare is over. He turned back around to go back to his reality, to streaming, and to putting sheep in the shame corner. He steps through the frame and returns to his normal, comfortable clothes, a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“Thank the gods, that’s over. I should walk Dog, and get some Panera. And I really should sell that mirror.” Fulgur said out loud making himself cringe like an anime protagonist that dies in a horror story first, what an overused writing cliche. 

He conquered another fear, but what will be waiting for him next? Spiders? Heights? Who knows? Only the mirror truly knows. After all, it’s the reflection that really shows people's deepest fears, from physical to mental fears. We all have to conquer it one way or another.

Written by: @caepancakeroll

Art by: @Arinatira