Timeline:

Soon.

 

This story takes place
sometime after
Aklımdan Geçenler

 

 

“Psst!”

 

 

“Mmmm..?”

 

 

“Psssst!”

 

 

“Is that you, girl?”

 

 

“Yes, doll!”

 

 

“Doll? That’s a new.”

 

“Have you been eating, again?”

 

 

“Part of the job. I had to improvise..”

 

 

“Lemures?”

 

 

“Please! I have standards, you know..”

 

 

“Imps, then?”

 

 

“Imps.. Bit on the sour side, like Mortal’s rhubarbs. Can’t be too picky. Options are limited. Dretches make a stink and Manes just are inedible! Imps are fun to eat; they make this squeaky ‘eeep!’, when they die. I can eat them and no one cares..”

 

 

“Gluttony is sin, you know..”

 

 

“Yea.. and I am in Hell.”

 

 

“Unhealthy too..”

 

 

“Needed the supplements, doll. This plan is taking everything I’ve got.”

 

 

“Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t have done this.”

 

 

“He gave surety.”

 

 

“He does not give.”

 

“He cannot give.”

 

“He can only take.

 

 

“Doesn’t matter. Not at this point.”

 

 

“Are you safe?”

 

 

“As can be. For now.. We can talk. This line is secure. All is ready.”

 

 

“Tonight?”

 

 

“Tonight..”

 

 

“So there was a collaboration..”

 

 

“Apparently. Or else an awesome coincidence.”

 

 

“I doubt. We are never blessed with such serendipities. Should have eaten him when I had the chance. Haven’t had a bite since I left..”

 

 

“You met him?”

 

 

“Met him, and played right into his hand; I am at the fuse.”

 

 

“Understandable, if you haven’t eaten since you left. How do you stay sane?”

 

 

“Last one I tried was what I thought to be a Mortal bantam throw-away; rejected and dejected.. You know; puppy eyed, newly defined chin, cute, polite and vague..”

 

 

“A virgin?”

 

 

“A virgin.”

 

 

“Scrumptious!”

 

 

“Turns out he was a temple guardian. Like that wasn’t enough, he was also sorely, thoroughly and excruciatingly in love!”

 

 

“Ouch. Burnt or sick?”

 

 

“Burnt, sick, struck, slammed, marked, nearly eviscerated —and fined for everything but pubic indecency!

 

 

“The irony.”

 

 

“Then I figured, sanity is a luxury and not quiet a necessity.”

 

 

“Nice..”

 

 

“How bad is it going to be?”

 

 

You better not be there when it happens, bad.”

 

 

“Then this will be a deplorable evening.. Many people will get hurt. And many more will die..”

 

 

“That is inevitable; they are Mortals. Death is always what awaits them.

 

 

“Making life more precious, though.”

 

 

“Perhaps. I wouldn’t know. But nothing we do could change that. Death was coming, yet they foolishly preferred to stay blind. They had all the signs; the attacks, the ambushes, the raids, the slaughter.. Yet they did nothing.. This one act of sin will open their eyes, and strengthen their resolve. You know this to be true. We had agreed on this.”

 

 

“I know. But still..”

 

 

“Why change of heart now?”

 

 

“No Heart!”

 

 

“True.”

 

 

“Change of something, though..”

 

 

“We are not going through with it, then? Little I can do to stop it, considering all the effort I gave to start it. Has too much momentum, now.”

 

 

“You were always good at moving things..”

 

 

“You were better.”

 

 

“Was I?”

 

 

“Moved me..”

 

 

“That’s.. so sweet.”

 

 

“Have you figured it out yet?”

 

 

“A bit.”

 

 

“Tell me.”

 

 

“Made more, I think..”

 

 

“Will they replace me?”

 

 

“Never.”

 

 

“I do not understand.”

 

 

“Neither do I.”

 

 

“Then how can you have more?”

 

 

“I did not try. They did..”

 

 

“Mortals can be so inconvenient.”

 

 

“True. But they carry compassion. And love.”

 

 

“We have passions. We have love.”

 

 

“No, sweetheart, we don’t have passions. We have destitute desires. We don’t have love. We only make love; we feed upon lust with tangible despair! Theirs are not the same.”

 

 

“How so?”

 

 

“I have seen, how they can want and not touch. I have witnessed, how they can give but never take. And I have beheld, how theirs smolder and burn without brimstone and fire..

 

No, sweetheart..

 

We do not have passions. Nor do we ever have love..”

 

 

“They are so stupid.”

 

 

“They are Mortals.”

 

 

“They have lust.”

 

 

“They must have fun too.”

 

 

“I do not understand..”

 

 

“Neither do I. It is like, ‘friend’. Never comprehend. Only feel..”

 

 

“Like us?”

 

 

“Like us..”

 

 

“When will I see you again? I am bored.”

 

 

“Not soon. Perhaps never.”

 

 

“But. Why?”

 

 

“I will die.”

 

 

“I do not understand. You said this plan would save us.. And your plan worked flawlessly. He hates you now..”

 

 

“Yes. That was the plan..”

 

 

“..And Irine. He hates her very nearly as much as he hates you. Did you really kill her?”

 

 

“No. Was busy..”

 

 

“She could be alive, then?”

 

 

“Doubtful. Last I saw her, she was flat.”

 

 

“Irine? Flat? How very unlike her. Last I saw her, she had curves.. Many curves.. How did it happen?”

 

 

“A bug fell on her. A big bug!”

 

 

“The great and cunning, above all and favored Irine, graving under a bug.. Sounds ludicrously fitting.”

 

 

“I thought so, too..”

 

 

“He will not stop, you know? He will never stop! Not until he has you.”

 

 

“Hence, I must die.”

 

 

“But you are my.. ‘friend’ and I will never get to see you again..”

 

 

“Now you feel, ‘friend’ ?”

 

 

“Now I feel, ‘friend’. It is a sad thing.”

 

 

“Not always..”

 

 

“When is it not?”

 

 

“When we had fun.”

 

 

“True. We had many fun. Long ago..”

 

 

“We will again.”

 

 

“When?”

 

 

“When I die..”

 

 

“Must you?”

 

 

“It is the only way..”

 

 

“Things end, when they die.”

 

 

“Somethings..”

 

 

“Why die, then? Life is better.”

 

 

“Is it? Are you happy?”

 

 

“I am a play-slave in Hell. I have no right to ‘happy’.”

 

 

“You are you.. You have free will..”

 

 

“Why? All my choices and I will still lose.. And be alone.”

 

 

“Not all things we lose, are our strengths, sweetheart.”

 

 

“But when you die, all ends.”

 

 

“All End.”

 

 

“True. Still..”

 

 

“The plan was to save my friends.. and you..”

 

 

“But not yourself.”

 

 

“Not myself.”

 

 

“Why?”

 

 

“We.. started wrong. We must end it right. And this.. is my right!”

 

 

“How will I end it right?.”

 

 

“Where you first killed.”

 

 

“I do not go there. It..”

 

 

“Hurts?”

 

 

“Hurts..”

 

 

“That is ‘guilt’. An extension of ‘compassion’. Something only the best of Mortals feel.. It is like ‘friend’. Not understood. Only felt.”

 

 

“What is there?”

 

 

“The boy.”

 

 

“He lives?”

 

 

“Mindless..”

 

 

“He lives!”

 

 

“Older now. And alone..”

 

 

“What shall I do?”

 

 

“Will not be fun.”

 

 

“Tell me!”

 

 

“Do you truly want to know?”

 

 

“Yes. Can not forget his face. And how mutely he accepted his end.”

 

“Still hurts.”

 

“Still burns!”

 

“What shall I do?”

 

 

“Return what you took..”

 

 

“I.. will die!”

 

 

“Perhaps. Must be your choice. Your free will. Only way to end it right.. and save yourself.. and your soul.. from Him, and from Hell..”

 

 

“I.. understand, now.”

 

 

“You understand, now..”

 

 

“It is midnight.”

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

“Light the fuse.”

 

“Let all burn like I burn!”

 

“I am tired and I hurt.”

 

 

“It is lit.”

 

 

“Run, then.”

 

 

“I can use my wings now.”

 

 

“Take your friends and fly, then. Make haste. They are coming..”

 

 

“I have one small favor to ask of you, ere we leave..”

 

 

“Ask.. Quick!”

 

 

“The Door. I shall need you to open it for me.”

 

 

“Ow?.. Owww.. That will be nasty.”

 

 

“It will. But it must be done.”

 

 

“Why?”

 

 

“Because I can not open it from this side.”

 

“Will you?”

 

 

“If I must..”

 

 

“For me.. and my friends..”

 

 

“Then I shall.”

 

 

“Thank you, and farewell, then, mirima Temez.”

 

“I will see you again, perhaps, and beyond Oblivion.”

 

 

“Am I not a Peregrine and Ousted anymore, then?”

 

 

“You never were, sweetheart. Only and always mirima Lanna Temez..

 

“My Best Fiend Friend..”

 

 

“Farewell, Arezme Ara Serraphyn, my Best Fiend Friend..

 

“The only merry soul in Hell..”

 

 


Perigren Ostlanna Temez; “Perigren”, ‘peregrine’ kelimesinden türemedir ve yabacı, garip, uzaktan gelen, egzotik anlamlarına gelir. “Ostlanna” ise, ‘oust’, dışlanmış, ötelenmiş, reddedilmiş kelimesinden gelir ve ‘dışlanmış/ötelenmiş/reddedilmiş Lanna’ demektir:

“Garip, yabancı ve dışlanmış Lanna Temez.”

 

Daha küçük yaştan itibaren Merisoul Xyrowu bunu reddeder ve ona eski elfçede, ‘özgür’ anlamına gelen “Mirima” olarak hitap eder;

“Mirima Temez.”

“Özgür Temez.”

 

Arezme Ara Serraphyn, Merry Soul: “Aremze” – eski Yunancadaki ‘Erasmus’ kelimesinden gelmedir ve ‘Beloved/Sevgili’ anlamına gelir. “Ara” – kız adı; O ki yağmur (huzur) getirir. “Serraphyn” – Seraph’dan türemedir ve bir nevi ‘melek’ anlamına gelir. “Merry Soul” ise ‘Mutlu Ruh’ demektir.

“Arezme Ara Serraphyn, Merry Soul.”

“Huzur Getiren Sevgili Mutlu Ruhlu Melek.”

 

 

 
 

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1 Comment

  1. With this story,

    A Demon’s Plan (Part 4) – All End,

    this particular series has ended..

    ..and many other things as well.

    The conversation between the two, succubi-hybrid friends is a bit vague, but then, so are the two souls, caught between mortality and traumatic, sociopathic, and unstable morals.

    When Merisoul releases Priceptine from the trap he was incarcerated some 800 years ago, she knows she is doomed;

    Should Priceptine ever find out to whom she formerly belonged, it was likely he would slay her.

    Should ‘The Face’ find out she now served Priceptine, one of his most hated enemies, he would do her, what he did to Ad Ara..

    Hence she concocted a plan – A Demon’s Plan, with her BFF – Best Fiend Friend, a girl by the name Perigren Ostlanna Temez, who was from the same batch of hybrid trainees AND from the very same ‘Pit’ village, where small ‘baby’ succubi-hybrids are thrown into pits and served only whatever that’s dumped on them for years, making sure those that survived could never feel empathy, compassion or love – real mortal emotions. A ‘project’ developed by the demoness Irine (a.k.a. Auntie Irine).

    All went more or less according to plan, for Irine, until one of the trainees, the one named somethings very very long by her mother during her pregnancy, inadvertently lost her way while roaming the vast halls of her master (Kardax’Trakxa) and inadvertently found Ad Ara, locked in the dungeons and had been tortured and shredded for nearly 1600 years.

    The encounter between the little girl who named herself ‘Merrisoul Xyrotwu’ and Ad Ara changed her at a very unexpected level, ultimately leading to the plan that she crafted to escape ALL her masters, and saving those she considered to be her friends..

    It must be noted that Merisoul is not in any way trying to cheat death or escape it, which is what a mortal would likely do, under such circumstances. She is trying to cheat both ‘Hells’ and ‘Heavens’ rules to get away from one to get into the other. For her, life means little anymore. She can not go back to Hell and she knows she can not be allowed to enter Heaven. She is, after all, a demon, even if only by half and not of her own choice. And no matter what good she does, in the eyes of Priceptine, she is exactly that; a demon ‘acting’ good, which is partly true; Merisoul truly has difficulty understanding ‘good’.

    Hence, she is now trying to create the ‘conditions’ of her own demise in such a way that Heavens will have no ‘choice’ but to accept her. The intermixed ironies here rather mind staggering; such as the time she touched Aager, knowing it would burn her, being a succubi, she is unable to touch any mortal who is truly in love. But she did it anyway, in hopes of ‘sacrificing’ herself to help save Aager’s love. An act that failed as Aager called Inshala to save her and would have failed anyway because of the deliberate manipulation of her own condition to ‘fit’ the rules.

    In other words, she wants to be free of both her old and new master and be free of her dysfunctional condition; she wants to belong and not to Hell. Not anymore, even if she had a choice.

    She wants to ‘feel’ every other feeling there is in mortals just like the way she feels ‘lonely’ and ‘sad’, a true contrast to her name; Merry Soul.

    What she does not yet perceive, is the conditions can not be set, nor preplanned, no matter how desperate she is. The conditions are the end result.

    Much like her sacrifice, it must come from the heart. Honestly, sincerely, selflessly.

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