It hurts, it hurts so much.
A searing pain in my shoulder jolted me awake. Amidst the confusion and panic I instinctively retracted my hand and leaned away from its source. As the pain slowly started to subside, I regained some rationale and immediately looked down towards my right shoulder to find a shallow but rough cut splattered across it with blood dripping down my arm. Just then a familiarly rough voice shouted to my right, "What are you doing?! Augh, did the anaesthesia wear off?"
It was Old Man, dressed in a golden-white priest's robe; he held a bloody hand-saw in his right hand and prayer beads in his left. Taking note of my panicked state he spoke again, this time in a gentler tone, "I'm sorry Caylus, it's just that this isn't how things were supposed to go. There's no need to worry though, we will up the dose this time and it'll all go smoothly."
He reached his hand towards my shoulder which I quickly pulled back from, getting even more confused by his answer. "What the hell are you talking about– and put that saw down!" I shouted in frustration, wondering if he had gone insane; why was he trying to saw my hand off? And why was he acting as if this was all normal?
Surprised by my burst of aggression, he slowly lowered his hand and placed the saw down onto the floor. His expression also shifting into one of confusion, "What do you mean? I thought you wanted to contribute to the Walpurgis night? You were acting so eager a few minutes ago.." He tilted his head with narrowed eyes, as if perplexed by my sudden shift in attitude.
"Walpurgis night..?" I voiced my bewilderment, calming down slightly after noticing the mutual confusion. Sitting up on the stone altar, I started to look around the grand room with imposing walls embroidered in gold and silver. It was like nothing I had seen before; there were several scrolls dyed in crimson with mysterious symbols and words written in an unfamiliar language plastered across the room. After taking in the bizarre sight, my brain slowly started to connect the dots. "Are we inside the Holy Cathedral?"
"In its basement, yes. The preparation room, remember?" Old Man urged, made his way over to the altar and worriedly pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. "Do you really not remember anything about the Walpurgis night? What is the last thing you remember exactly?" He quickly nudged his crystal monocle in place before stepping back to give me some breathing room.
"I remember.. for some reason.. dashing in through the cathedral doors and then.. joining the prayer..?" I held my head tightly in my arms, trying my best to remember anything past that point but the throbbing pain in my head prevented me from doing so. "I'm sorry, for some reason all my memories are a bit.. I-.."
"No, it's fine. You don't have to force yourself." He comfortingly patted my back and stepped back, holding his chin in a thoughtful manner before mumbling, "Maybe it's a side effect of that defective anesthesia? You weren't supposed to wake up this early either.." He looked back up into my eyes and sighed, "It's far too late to start all over again, leave it. Let's just get going, it's almost time for the festival to begin." He wiped the blood off my arm with a silk cloth, picked up his lantern and made his way towards the door.
Significantly calmer now, I decided to just wait and see, following him through the dimly lit hallway into the staircase area until he came to an abrupt stop. Old Man turned around to face me with a grim expression, the area up ahead almost completely immersed in darkness except for a few steps.
Pointing towards the barely visible stairs in front of us, he whispered in forewarning "Remember, once again, while we are traversing those stairs, no matter what happens, regardless of what you think, see, hear or feel; do not stop chanting the praises of our Lord. 'It' will try its best to get your attention, do not be swayed by its illusions." He raised his arms into a prayer gesture, holding the lantern above his head and continued piously, "Keep your eyes on the light. The Lord is with us, as long as we put our faith in 'Him', praise 'Him' and devote ourselves to 'Him', it cannot harm us."
"'It'..?" I whispered, my voice shaking with trepidation. I reflexively straightened my back and pinned my gaze onto the lantern, too spooked to take any chances. "What exactly is 'It' and why is it trying to get our attention? What happens if I stop..?" I carefully shifted my eyes to meet Old Man's, subconsciously gulping down a mouthful of saliva in distraught.
"In this world, some things are better left unsaid. Do not pry into the mystery of God!" Old Man declared sternly, as if recounting an old saying. He then lowered the lantern and slowly turned around, giving me one last look through the corner of his monocled eye, "Do not stop praising the lord. No matter what happens."
He then stepped up, slowly climbing the staircase while loudly chanting his devout praises. "Praise the Lord! You are the dam for the River of Fate, the Light in the Dawn of Apocalypse, the one who resides over the Sefirah Castle!" I followed his example, loudly chanting praises and rhythmically moving up the stairs as the rays of light emitted by his lantern illuminated the upcoming steps.
The first few minutes went by smoothly without event making me more relaxed than I should've been, it was as if all that unnecessary fear had suddenly vanished– "Help.. please.. help.." The air in my lungs grew heavy at the terrifying plea coming from the emptiness beside me. I tried my best to ignore it, fixing my trembling eyes onto the lantern and keeping up the loud chanting as if nothing had happened. 'This isn't real, it's an illusion. This isn't real, it's an illusion. This isn't real, it's an illusion.' I repeated the mantra inside my head; "It" must be behind this, all I had to do was focus on the light and everything would be fine, just like Old Man said.
"Please.. let me go.. I have a family.." The voice grew louder and clearer the higher we climbed.
"Is someone there? Help me! Anyone!?" One voice became two.
"No they're here again, f*ck please leave me alone.." Two became three.
"NO, NO, NO, NO NO NO NOT AGAIN NO PLEASE NO-!" Three became four.
"It hurts.. It hurts so badly, please just let me go.." "Why are you doing this to me.. I don't understand what I did wrong..?!" "Kill me.. Kill me.. Kill me.. Please kill me..!" Soon enough, the cries started to drown out our voices.
Trembling in fear I tightly clutched the fabric on my waist, hugging myself to try and suppress the overwhelming urge to turn in the direction of the voices within me; yet despite my best attempts, questions kept popping up in my head. 'Why were the voices crying? What exactly happened to them? What the hell was "It"?'.
To make things worse, some of my hazy memories started to clear up; the memories of following Old Man into the darkness in a familiar scene. For some reason those memories invoked a deep sense of regret within me. I wish I had never left the Moon City, I wish I had just stayed quiet about my condition and lived with Old Man till the bitter end, I wish.. I just wish I could go back home.
The anguished cries constantly assaulted my senses as I kept walking up the stairs, at some point having closed my eyes and protectively put my hands over my ears. I yelled as loud as I possibly could, hoping to drown out the shrieks by mindlessly repeating the same sentence over and over again. "Praise the Lord!!"
After an unknown amount of time of walking, the voices suddenly stopped. Pleasantly surprised, I slowly opened my eyes and pulled my hands back down to my sides. Standing in front of me at the end of the staircase was Old Man who had a wide smile etched onto his face. He slowly patted my shoulder and nodded in a proud manner, "Good job Caylus, I knew you had it in you. The Lord always protects the faithful, praise the Lord!" He lifted his hand into a praying gesture once more before meeting my uncertain gaze. "I know you must have a lot of questions, but don't worry you'll get your answers soon enough."
He moved to the side and unlocked the heavy metal door in front of us, slowly pushing it open. "I hope you enjoy the Walpurgis night. Though I doubt it'll meet your extravagant expectations."
My heart stopped, eyes threatening to fall out of their sockets; hell I wish they had fallen out of their sockets, anything was preferable to observing the grotesque scene in front of me. I tried to scream but it was as if I had lost the ability to do so, my entire body going into shock at witnessing the horror before it.
In the middle of the prayer hall lit a bonfire surrounded by several dozens of people taking turns to roast human limbs, a lot of which were also dangling in the air across the room, tied up high to hooks on the cathedral walls. The corners of the hall were occupied by groups of people chomping down on the roasted limbs, laughing and playing amongst themselves as if it was just any other ordinary community dinner. Just a glimpse of the 'festival' made the contents of my stomach rise up my throat, threatening to spill over at a moment's notice. I tried my best to turn my gaze away towards Old Man, but my body betrayed me once more.
Panic, fear, confusion, repulsion and a dozen other overwhelming emotions surged through my brain at once and before I even had a chance to fully process the scene in front of me, I suddenly heard something clink beside me.
[End of chapter 2: The Walpurgis Night]