Bullied (18+)

 

Chapter 27: A Memorable Preparation

 

An ever expanding map of stars vanished in an opportune time of the early hour’s blue light. With the passage of a morning’s red glare, that cool color scattered to make way for the blazing sun.

Dark as it still was indoors, the outside brightness managed to seep its way in through the curtains to cover a particular bedroom’s lone figure in what would be a familiar coppery blanket of sunshine... It was warm and comfortably familiar, but it was more than that.

Right now, this was a beautiful easing into waking up that I could not appreciate. Not due to any pain I was in. That had thankfully disappeared into nothing.

What disturbed this graceful scene was my unexplained transfer from an incorporeal ball of agony to this hospitable sense of returned security. I wondered, ’What happened to me?’

Turning and wiggling in a shallow slumber, I began to blink my eyes open to a blurry mess that was this array of radiance breaking in through the window. And as I mentally became more aware, I realized where I laid.

This was my bed, and that sunlight came down and through my window of my bedroom. I was somehow back home!

Not as in home on Earth, but my house. The very house that burnt down. I wondered, ’How is this possible?’ Then I thought, ’Why am I trying to make sense of this?’

“That is how the human mind works,” I heard from a distant voice. “Understanding the mystery is an act of survival.” And it sounded like whomever this was came closer and closer towards me.

One thing I registered was the unlikelihood of this being Grandma. I’ve yet to hear her speak to me in a masculine tone.

And my observation was answered with a horrifying statement: “Her shadow.”

In my mixed blend of bewildering panic of excitement, I struggled in a hurried attempt to sit up, jump out of bed, and touch down my bare feet to stand and feel the carpeted floor that I had failed to take this one step at a time. Instead, I completely forgot to untangle myself from my covers, and in my stupid act of multitasking, I accidentally rolled out of bed in a wrap of clingy sheets to noisily have thumped the floor shoulder first.

For just a minute, I laid on the floor to simply catch my breath and listen for another spoken word by whomever was here with me. Entangled as I was, I curled upwards into a sitting position on the floor. Thankfully, the side of the bed I fell from had helped, and once supported up, I got myself oriented enough to face the direction I heard that someone.

“I am over here,” I heard in the corner of my room where my computer desk was situated nearby the bedroom door.

The empty chair rolled back and away from the desk, then turned around to face its seat towards me. There was nobody sitting there, so I looked past it at the desk to see if there was someone hiding under the desk.

“Eyes here, in the chair,” was what brought my attention back to the still empty seat. “Good, child.”

“Child?” I blinked in astonishment at the sound of my own voice. “What in the --”

“Please do forgive her for turning back the clock. It is easier than asking for permission,” I again heard from the empty chair.

Not quite believing this, I looked down at myself. My bedroom was being flooded with a golden atmosphere as the morning redness faded away. In that colorful light, I took stock of my condition and possibly my situation.

Bundled up in my bed’s blanket and sheets, I could still make out the hidden shape under the covers. Stretching out my arms, I reached out towards my wiggling toes.

To the floor, the bed behind me, an old wooden nightstand to my side, and a pair of books inside the cubby of my stand; I noted the difference in recollected sizes of myself compared to now. I reeled my hands back and away from my feet to feel up every inch of this apparently small body. From a limited perspective, I didn’t feel small, but seeing as I had enough objects around me to size myself up with, I nevertheless got the feeling.

Surprised by this, I shouted: “I’m a kid!”

“Ssh,” was an instant shush from the chair. “Your Will is a light sleeper, no?”

“Dad?” I quietly questioned this, but I already had an idea that I was in the past. “Did Grandma… what did she -- what do you want from me now?”

Before anything else happened, I wanted to get out here before this weirdo of this sadist did something. Especially when I took into consideration how vulnerable I was as a child.

"You are wrong," it said in a softer voice. "Please, be brave a moment for me to explain."

"Go away!" Likely not a demand it would acknowledge, but if I was being given time to have a conversation, I'd wanted it to know wasn't enjoying its company.

"Would it help if you saw me?" It was a silly concept and I thought better of it to bring a more serious image between us. "Yes, I agree it is better to have a face to put with the voice... better than a talking chair."

For crying out loud, it was trying to be funny as if I was about to imagine a discussion with my own bedroom furniture here!

“First, let us give you time to calm down,” and as this was said to me, I saw the chair swivel off towards the bedroom door… As if the occupant stood up. “Pay attention… as I am coming over to you, I will reveal myself to be not who you think I am.”

“What?!” I appreciated the warning, but I wasn’t happy about it.

If this was another demon or shade, then I wasn’t going to be a sitting duckling here. As far as I was concerned, all of them had a desire to see me suffer.

In my attempt to free myself again, I unintentionally flopped down onto my side and had badly squandered my chance of escaping. I also had a view of the approaching figure darkening its image.

So far, I saw the same shadowy copy of Grandma.

"Except I still have my head on my shoulders," I heard as I kicked out at it. "Can't touch, remember?"

As I happened to be smaller, I found myself halfway squiggled past and under the corner of my bed. Then at that point of lashing out my bare footsies and squirming beneath, and in the process of getting all that much more knotted up in my covers, I foolishly twisted to crawl out from the end of my bed.

In my thinking, I had hoped to put my bed between us and make a break for the bedroom door. 
Instead of carrying out that smooth plan, I lodge my shoulder into the underframe of my bed. On a forceful yank, I got the crook of my neck and shoulder jammed between the wooden beam above me and against leg post.

Small didn’t mean I could fit everywhere. And on top of that, I became aware of how severely uncoordinated my motor skills were as a child.

“...Cute, but are you done?” I heard this right next to me, as if they had squatted down in wait for the end to my childish antics. “Are you willing to answer me?”

“Yes,” I said as I had stopped working my position someplace worse.

“Forgive me for not asking permission. I would rather not wait any longer than I have done.” I wasn’t thrilled to hear that something was about to happen to me, but I received some ease of mind when clarification on what had been meant was said, “I will free you from under the bed.”

That hadn’t meant I was safe, and I began begging to the shade. “Please don’t --”

“Tiresias has been known for going too far for pleasure and amusement,” and as this confusing confession was said, I started to see the dark figure form in the sunshine. “No more… As similar as we are to one another, I am not Tiresias.”

Having a slight hint on who was being named, I wanted to be sure of it. “Is that Grandma’s shadow?”

“We are all one of many. Tiresias, the one you feared... the one who was responsible for your last sexual assault?” As this was questioningly confirmed for, I felt a pair of firm hands on my neck and shoulder. “Right, well... the worst you can expect from me is teasing you for being adorable.”

“Great,” I said to myself and wondered, ’What is this shade’s definition of teasing?’

After a little laugh, and being nudged free against the floor, I heard this copied variant of Grandma state: “Me being a pest until I get a rise out of you.” That instantly brought me back into envision the session of strangulation I had. “I am not here to harm you. Nor will any of us do so again.” That was a welcomed bit of news. “Tiresias wasn’t aware of whom she was fucking with until it too late.”

“What -- ow!” That was my fault for raising my head too soon before I cleared the bed frame. “You mean, Grandma punished her for what she did to me?”

“We are striving for coexistence," had been said instead of directly telling me what I asked. "Your cooperation is difficult to maintain when we are attacking one another.” And that wasn’t the answer I expected, but I got the gist of it. “We have been seen overstepping the permissible boundaries made around you. That is why I am here.”

As I was propped back up into sitting, I asked: “What makes you special?”

“All of us do not believe you should exist, except for a few.” This shadow let go of me, laid a hand up against its own chest, and then stated: “I am one of those few.”

This had been told to me often enough without a clear explanation. I gathered that jumping back and forth, in and out, of Hell was frowned upon, but I wasn’t in control of that.

“If that were the reason, us Shades would be viewed the same as you.” After considering the shade, Tiresias, having chased after me into Adam’s bed, I supposed that would be true. “Yes. You have the capacity to learn your reasons without me having to tell you.”

“Just tell me why I have to keep going through hoops for you demons.” Even if this all was to rescue my dad, I was tired of surrendering to their demands. “I don’t care if you have to spell it out for me, but, please, tell me why I have to --”

“No one took your Will,” and that had interrupted me and my thoughts. “Of his own free will, he invaded our realm and attempted to settle a feud with the wrong woman.”

“Wha… Wait, what?” I felt like my brain just did a backflip.

“Forgive me, I know you have been told we knew nothing...” I watched this demon shrugged and confessed: “That was a lie.”

Not that it was a good idea to believe everything these Hellions told me, and I had expected them to know something, but being told it was a lie had left me speechless. I didn’t know what to think.

“She brought you here to see for yourself.” The shade shook its head and said, “Having you simply remember would bring doubt to the authenticity of these memories.” Closer, face-to-face, I was told, “That is why you are possessing a younger you. We will show you how these mistakes and atrocities were made… and why it was decided for you to forget.”

“Can’t… can’t you just...” I didn’t know if I wanted to be told anything.

If I had one choice to understand something, I wanted to know how to save my dad. I had entered Hell for that very reason, but in every step I took on this attempted rescue, I kept getting shafted. Nothing ever paid me back for my efforts.

“Ow!” I rubbed at the top of my painfully flicked ear.

“Ha, how nostalgic…” I glared up into the dark face of this shadowy demon. “Pay attention and you will learn, Lahhhh-- ahem, Little Clem.”

To set the story straight, in annoyance, I said, “As a kid, I was still Clint.”

“Clem, as you consciously are, but true.” With a nod of its head, the demon stated: “I will have to remedy that. Sit back, relax, and do please pay attention to the show.”

It took me a moment, but I suddenly realized something and asked: “Are you supposed to be my mentor?” Unsure as to why, I was laughed at. “I take that as a no?”

“Haha… As much as I would love to relive that past, I am not.” A hand swept up and over my head in a blur of motion. “I am here to inform and calm you of what is about to transpire. Young Clint will regain consciousness as you, Clem, recede in order to relearn what was forgotten.” The hand laid down on the top of my light blonde head. “Rest well.”

And as I was told to do so, I slowed. A funny way to define how I reacted, but that was how I perceived myself; slow.

My gaze had fixated onto a single spot in front of me. Just from how I felt, I supposed I had a blank face or just looked out of it. I didn’t even take notice of the shade leaving my room.

For all I knew, it might’ve phased out of this reality and back into Hell.

What I did know, I wasn’t in control of my body anymore… and I had to remember, this wasn’t exactly my body. Not yet.

As of now, I fell into a kind of passenger state in this possessed youth. I would feel myself slip into his mind and return to a personality that once came natural to me. An identity I had gone by before a piece of Hell had its way with me.

Through this gradually induced submission, I wasn’t me anymore.

Clint woke up...