Semi-Immortal

[Reader Discretion: Semi-Immortal explores mature and challenging themes, including trauma, mental health struggles, violence, and discrimination. It contains scenes that may be distressing to some readers. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being.] 

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As Amritkala faded into the endless expanse of white, a profound silence wrapped around Ivy like a heavy shroud. This was not the serene stillness she had longed for; instead, it felt suffocating and relentless, pressing down on her chest with an unbearable weight. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to banish the echoes of their last conversation, but the emptiness of the Unbound Realm was unyielding. It clung to her, refusing to let her escape its grasp, as if it had more to reveal, more to take from her.

The air around her shimmered faintly, and a low, almost imperceptible hum began to stir. At first, it was distant, like the echo of a half-remembered dream, but it grew louder, more insistent. Ivy's eyes snapped open, and she found herself surrounded by ethereal shapes coalescing in the emptiness. The wisps—ghostly "messengers" of the Unbound Realm—emerged, their forms pulsing with a cold, silvery light. They moved like smoke caught in an unfelt breeze, their translucent edges shifting erratically, as if barely able to contain the energy within.

Each wisp glowed with a different intensity, some dim and flickering, others blazing brightly like cruel, miniature stars. Their voices began to echo in the void, a cacophony of whispers and lilting tones, laced with mockery and malice.

"Ah, Ivianna Reyna," one hissed, its voice sharp and grating, like nails on a chalkboard. "So fragile. So easily broken."

"Have you come to wallow again?" another added, its tone a singsong melody that dripped with disdain. "You stumble here so often, little one, it's almost like you belong."

"Leave me alone," Ivy snapped, her voice raw. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms as she fought to keep her composure.

The wisps drifted closer, their movements slow and deliberate, their light casting flickering shadows across her pale features. "We could leave," one mused, its form twisting into a vaguely humanoid shape for a moment, "but why abandon such a masterpiece of suffering? It's simply too captivating to resist."

Another wisp darted forward, weaving around her head in erratic loops. Its laughter rang out, shrill and unsettling. "Do you think you're any less pathetic than before? You may pretend to stand tall, but inside, you're still that same pitiful girl."

"Enough." Ivy said, her voice trembling despite her defiance. The wisps ignored her, their taunts growing louder, overlapping until they became a dissonant chorus.

"The same girl who pleaded for the universe to collapse around her."

"A coward who can't even look at herself in the mirror!"

"You can't run forever, Ivianna," one of them whispered, its voice low and intimate, brushing against her like an icy breath.

Before she could react, the white expanse beneath her feet rippled, and the oppressive void gave way to an all-too-familiar scene, dragging her unwillingly into the darkest corners of her past.

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The emptiness surrounding her glimmered softly, blending into the muted hues of her bedroom. Her current bedroom. Every detail was rendered with agonizing clarity: the peeling wallpaper, the faint smell of mildew, and the muffled hum of a television playing in another room. Her uncle's slurred shouting bled through the thin walls, a drunken tirade that had been the backdrop of her life for as long as she could remember. Her stomach twisted when she saw herself, sitting on the edge of the bed. The other Ivy—the past Ivy—looked identical to her, down to the same messy, shoulder-length hair and the gauntness in her face. The only thing that set them apart was the scar on her neck, a jagged line that had long since been transformed into her Semi-Immortal marking. Without thinking, Present Ivy reached up to her neck, her fingertips gliding over the smooth skin.

The wisps circled her like vultures, their silvery forms flickering with restless energy. Their taunts began softly, a whisper that crawled beneath her skin.

"Still so stubborn," one hissed, its voice sharp and grating. "Look at her. Look at you."

"The girl who thought she'd solved everything," another sneered, its tone dripping with derision. "But you didn't solve anything, did you?"

"This is pointless," Ivy snapped, her voice cutting through the cacophony. She glared at the wisps, defiance burning in her tired eyes. "I'm not ashamed of what I did. You can't make me feel guilty."

The wisps laughed, a sound like shattering glass, and moved closer. Their translucent edges glowed brighter, casting an eerie light on the room. "Guilt?" one repeated mockingly. "We're not here to make you feel guilty."

Before Ivy could retort, the scene began to move. Past Ivy rose from the bed, her movements deliberate yet disconnected, as if she were operating on pure instinct. She scanned the room with a hollow gaze before stepping toward the closet. The wisps floated invisibly, their voices narrating her every action.

"There she goes," one crooned. "A martyr in her own tragedy."

"Such conviction," another sneered. "Too bad it didn't fix anything."

With trembling hands, she tugged out a crumpled bed sheet, her breath shallow and unsteady. Present Ivy watched as her past self carried the sheet to the bed, dragging it across the floor like a heavy burden. Past Ivy's hands fumbled, twisting the fabric into a crude noose, her expression unnervingly calm. She paused only to drag a small plastic box from the corner of the room, positioning it beneath the curtain rod with meticulous precision. Each deliberate movement from her past self intensified the knot of tension in present Ivy's chest, a mix of helplessness and rage. 

"You're not even hesitating," one wisp said, its tone mocking yet laced with something akin to pity.

"Because she's already decided," another chimed in. "A swift decision, but not a brave one."

Ivy's past self climbed onto the box, the bed sheet swaying gently above her. Her hands shook as she looped it around her neck, pulling it tight. She stood there for a moment, her shoulders heaving as she took several deep breaths. The distant sound of her uncle shouting blended into the background, his words slurred and unintelligible. She glanced toward the door, her expression unreadable, before stepping off the box.

The memory played out in agonizing detail. The suffocating pull of the noose, the desperate, gasping breaths, the gurgling sounds as her body fought against itself. Her hands clawed at the sheet, her nails scraping against the fabric as her vision blurred. Her legs twitched and kicked, the box tipping over with a hollow thud. Ivy felt it all—the raw, visceral terror of dying, the unbearable weight on her chest, the sharp sting of tears streaming down her face.

The scene froze, and the wisps returned, their glow harsh and blinding. "Feel it," they whispered in unison. "Every gasp, every second you wasted."

Ivy stumbled back, her hands clutching at her throat as if to dispel the phantom sensation. "I don't regret it," she spat, her voice cracking. "I don't regret it!"

"Liar," one wisp hissed, darting close to her face. "You regret living. You regret surviving."

"You regret everything," another snarled. "But you're too proud to admit it."

"Do you see it now?" one murmured. "The futility of your actions?"

"You can't escape your truth," another whispered, its tone almost tender. "No matter how hard you try."

Ivy's body shook with a mixture of rage and exhaustion. "Shut up," she growled, her voice hoarse. "Just shut up."

The wisps didn't relent. Their forms grew darker, more solid, as they closed in around her. She felt their hands—cold and intangible yet suffocating—press against her throat. Her breaths came in short, frantic gasps as the room dissolved into blinding light. The wisps' voices overlapped, their chant growing louder and more desperate.

"We aren't done with you yet."

"You'll listen. You'll listen because this is your truth."

"You can't run from it."

Ivy fought against the suffocating grip that held her tightly, her nails scratching at her neck as if she could claw away the unseen force binding her. Panic surged through her as her vision began to fade, the light around her consuming everything in its path. All she could hear was the eerie chant of the wisps, their voices swirling around her like a chilling breeze. Their haunting melody echoed in her mind, relentless and impossible to escape...