Lenaru. Lenaru. Lenaru.
The murdered sister. The betrayed sibling. The season of prolonged ice and death. I can already feel the warmth leaving my body.
I can already feel the darkness.
The Chamber
The more that my terror grows, the more my mind is bombarded with memories. Like my brain is grasping from wherever it can to gain strength.
I keep thinking of a very simple time with Aunt Jeanne. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always gotten along with my mom’s sister. And although it would be easy to assume it’s because she might remind me of my mother—she really doesn’t. In fact, they’re nothing alike. My Aunt Jeanne has always been more like a friend to me, rather than a relative.
We’ve had so many talks and outings over the years…so many good times. But all I keep remembering now is her laughter. No matter what we were doing, or where we were, we always ended up laughing. She has such a great laugh…loud and completely unapologetic.
I remember when we were having dinner at a restaurant once, and she was telling me this sad story that one of her friends had told her. Some horrible thing that had happened to one of his dogs. And as she continued telling her story, it just became more and more terrible—like horror movie terrible. That poor dog! I don’t know why, but all of a sudden, I burst out laughing. Her story had gotten so unbelievably disturbing, and I was getting so uncomfortable listening to it, that I burst out into nervous laughter. I will never forget the look on her face. She had just had her hair done—a huge new hairstyle on top of her head—and she was wearing these equally large, odd earrings. At first, she looked shocked at my response. Then slowly, I could see her fighting the urge to smile, and the more she fought it, the more she broke out in a huge grin. In no time at all, we were both laughing hysterically in the middle of the restaurant. And as she laughed, her huge hair and gigantic earrings were bobbing around her reddened face—which of course made me laugh even more. And the more we tried to control ourselves, the worse it got, until tears were running down both our faces. Our waiter thought we were crazy.
Now thankfully, the dog in her story survived unharmed, but that dinner is just a perfect representation of all my times with my aunt. We always managed to end up laughing and loving life, no matter what.
All I can keep thinking about now is that I wish I had called her more recently. It’s been months since we last spoke to or saw each other.
If you ever read this, Aunt Jeanne, I just want to say thank you. I know it’s not the norm, but aside from being my aunt, you’re also one of my closest friends. Thank you for all the laughter and all the wisdom. I miss you, now more than ever, and I love you very much. No matter what happens—keep laughing!
I don’t want to stop writing. I know that as soon as I do, the same feelings of dread and terror about the last ritual will return to me. I want to keep thinking about fun times with my aunt. I want to get lost in those memories.
Maybe I can just sleep. Maybe I can just escape into unconsciousness.
That would truly be a mercy.
Lenaru’s Room
When I woke up in the chamber, I was even more fearful than I had been before falling asleep. I greedily drank the water and ate the honey bread that was waiting for me by the fire, but when the chalk-white man finally entered, I was so nervous, I could hardly breathe.
He glided over to one of the other arched wooden doors and waited for me to follow. As I walked into the room, I looked around and was somewhat surprised. Unlike with some of the other rituals, this one was actually a room, and was very bare and minimal. Far from being the most ornate or elaborate—which is what I was expecting from the last sacrifice—it was by far the most plain.
Although it was a large circular room, with an impossibly high ceiling, the unremarkable stone walls had nothing on them. The floor was made of stone as well, and the air, although chilly, was not unusually cold.
The only aspect of the room that stood out was the unusual object at its center. There was a wide, black, square marble pedestal that reached up to my waist. On top of the pedestal was a huge sphere made of the same dark marble. The sphere was about as big as I was, but because of its square base, it towered above me. It looked like a large sculpture.
I noticed that the demon was observing me as I looked at the odd object and the barren room, and a cruel smirk broke out on his sinister face.
As the monster reached out and placed his hand on my forehead, I closed my eyes. Moments later, they flashed back open in horror, when I realized what the fifth and final sacrifice would entail. The pale demon drew back his hand and waited for me to follow his mental instructions.
I could not believe how gruesome the final ritual was. Despite everything I had already seen and experienced, this sacrifice seemed especially horrific. For my offering to Lenaru, I was to place my hand on the marble sphere. As soon as I did that, I would relive her murder, as if it were happening to me. Not only would I feel the hurt and betrayal, I would feel every moment of the various physical attacks from her sisters. I would be murdered by the other four seasons.
I could feel the sweat running down my face, as all the remaining warmth from my body seemed to vanish. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew I couldn’t escape my fate. The one mercy—if it could even be called that—was that I would not be sustaining any actual physical damage. My body would remain intact, while my mind sustained the damage and the scars.
As I felt the tears roll down my face, I closed my eyes and reached out to touch the sphere.
I was immediately back in the same magnificent forest that I had seen in the first vision that the monster had shared with me. In fact, it was the exact same vision, except that I was seeing it from a very different perspective. I felt unbelievably powerful. No—that does not even describe it accurately. I felt like I was literally the physical embodiment of power and strength. I felt…limitless.
Four figures appeared before me—the most magnificent beings in existence: Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn. Then they began to murder me.
I watched, unable to do anything, as Spring, with her hair of multicolored blossoms, kissed me on the lips. I felt the poison enter my body. I felt the venom run down my throat, and slowly dissolve my insides like acid.
Before I could even try to steady myself, Summer ruthlessly grabbed my face with both her hands, and stared into my eyes. The last thing I saw were the blinding rays of the sun erupting from her vindictive gaze, before I felt my own eyes sizzle and melt in their sockets. She then continued burning the rest of my face, as I screamed in agony.
As Summer released my charred head, I felt as Autumn embraced me tightly, as all the energy drained from my body. With every moment of her embrace, I became more and more feeble, more weak and frail. It was like my body was sprinting toward death.
Now in a haze, I felt as Autumn released me, right before Winter’s icicles mercilessly stabbed through my flesh, repeatedly, tearing through me, and destroying what remained of my already mutilated form.
Above all the pain—the excruciating, incredible pain—was an unbelievable sense of betrayal. I loved my sisters, and I felt as that love turned to hate. Soon, all that was left of me was hate. Like the only thing that I could carry with me into death was hate and malice.
The entire experience reliving Lenaru’s murder was the most horrific thing I could have ever imagined. I truly felt, in every possible way, destroyed.
But as the final stabs of Winter’s icicles shot through my almost dead form, something kept ringing in my ears—almost like a chime of some sort. And even though I was fully immersed in the terrible experience of the murder, I suddenly became very aware of myself standing in that stone room next to the demon, touching the large marble sphere. I immediately knew that this new sense of awareness was not supposed to be happening. If the sphere was a machine, I would describe it as malfunctioning. If it were an animal, I would say that it was confused.
Then I felt a subtle typ
e of electricity between my hand and where I was touching the sphere, and I knew that the object had somehow righted itself. Like it wasn’t working properly before, but now it was.
I was now suddenly back in the same magnificent forest, but this time, I was looking at all five sisters, including Lenaru. And although the sisters all looked the same, and I could feel the same unbelievable power and strength radiating from each of them, they all seemed completely different somehow.
All five of the sisters were in deep discussion and appeared to be making a very important decision. Lenaru, being the season of prolonged destruction and darkness, did not want to destroy the world of man. Even if it was such a long time in coming, it was finally now the time for her to reign. But she, as well as her four sisters, had grown to love man and did not want to issue in another age of ice and death. Even if the sisters knew that it was the natural order and progression of the cycles, which then led to the eventual renewal of life and the other seasons, they did not want men and women to perish.
Lenaru decided that she would end her immortal life, in order to save man. She would enter into a permanent slumber, so that her season of death and desolation would never happen again.
I could feel the deep and overwhelming sadness coming from all the sisters. They loved each other fiercely, and the thought of one of them in eternal sleep was excruciating. But all five of the sisters had agreed what needed to be done to save men and women. They would make the ultimate sacrifice and lose one of their own.
I watched as Lenaru lay down on a bed of light, with her four sisters standing around her. Suddenly, I recoiled as the chalk-white man appeared next to the sisters—and he was furious. He shrieked at them and said that he had found out about their plan to put Lenaru to rest, to prevent her season from taking place. He was, after all, Chaos, and the beginning of Lenaru’s season of desolation would be his finest hour. Mankind would turn on and destroy one another in an attempt to survive. By preventing her season from happening, they were cheating him out of one of his most glorious time periods and were obstructing the natural order of the cycles.
Despite Chaos’s barely controlled rage, the sisters could not deny that his words were accurate. They were indeed changing the structured order of things. But despite this, the sisters still decided to do what they felt was right. They reminded Chaos that there were plenty of other opportunities for him to reign, and that the beginning of Lenaru’s season, although an abundant time for him, was not directly connected to him. This was not his choice to make. Mayhem, turmoil, and disorder happened constantly, regardless of the season.
As Chaos raged, the four sisters stood around Lenaru and her bed of light. Spring was the first to say farewell, as she gently kissed her sister on the lips, and filled her with tranquility. Summer then kissed Lenaru on the forehead, before carefully shutting her eyes, so she could sleep. Autumn, the sister closest to Lenaru, held her in one final embrace, using her powers to drain out all the fear she could from her beloved sister. Finally, Winter put down her icicles, and placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders, using the power of her season to send Lenaru into a deep and eternal slumber.
When it was over, Lenaru’s body seemed to slowly dissolve into bright particles of light, before floating into, and being absorbed, by each of her sisters. Humans were now safe, the four other seasons would continue, and Lenaru’s energy would exist in each of her sisters.
As the remaining sisters embraced one another, Chaos continued to rant and rave. Despite the logic behind their difficult decision, he still felt like he had been cheated. He vowed revenge and knew the sisters’ weaknesses. He knew that even if they controlled the natural cycles and the seasons, the sisters could not directly interfere in the daily affairs of man. What Lenaru did was an aberration of the natural rules and order. Chaos swore that he would change the way that humans thought of the sisters. He would make sure that mankind was filled with pain and suffering—all in the sisters’ names. He would poison, twist, and destroy their story. He always thought that they were too powerful, too knowledgeable, and he vowed to make it his mission to rewrite their history. They would no longer be known as wise, strong, and honorable. Instead, they would be known as cruel, petty, and evil. And not only that, but he would make sure that their followers would fear, and simultaneously celebrate, their cruelty. The chalk-white demon, Chaos himself, vowed that he would carry out this plan. And that Lenaru, the sister that he felt had betrayed him the worse, would have the most pain and suffering carried out in her name.
The sisters banished Chaos from their domain, for although his work was naturally a part of their own, they did not have to work with him.
Even as the vision ended and the beautiful forest started to fade away, I could still feel the palpable sense of loss coming from the sisters. But as they mourned Lenaru, they also continued to govern over the remaining seasons. Despite their loss, they were still wisdom, power, and strength incarnate.
As I opened my eyes, I was back in the same barren room, still holding on to the black sphere. The chalk-white demon, Chaos, was still staring at me, the same cruel smirk on his sinister face. It was then that it occurred to me—he had no idea what I just saw—the true story of the five sisters.
Not knowing what to do, I pretended to pass out, and fell heavily to the floor. It was honestly not that difficult, since I was already exhausted from the mental experience of reliving the fake murder. Chaos left me on the floor for quite some time. I continued to keep my eyes shut, until I began to feel the air around me warm up. I slowly opened my eyes, only to discover that I was somehow back in front of the fire-pit in the chamber.
I’m now here writing this by the firelight. I’m not certain what happened with the sphere, but I think it’s safe to say that Chaos never intended for me to see the true story of the sisters. What he intended was for me to touch the sphere and relive a horrible memory of Lenaru being murdered. But that’s the thing—Lenaru was not murdered. That was a made-up story, not a memory. Maybe that ball, or sphere, or whatever it was, was carrying out his literal intention—to make me relive the memory of Lenaru’s murder. But since the murder was not real, it plucked the actual memory from the pale demon’s mind without him knowing it. The only discrepancy I can think of is if it plucked the memory from Chaos’s mind, then why wasn’t I experiencing the real story through his eyes and perspective? Well…regardless of that, the sphere then carried out both his unintentionally separate instructions—to make me relive the fake murder, and relive the memory of the real story. It could not be one or the other, it had to be both, since the murder, and the memory of the actual event, were not the same thing. Of course, I have no idea if I’m right, but it makes sense.
Chaos has no idea I know what actually happened to Lenaru. It’s almost as if when he planned this last ritual, which, remember, no one else but me has ever gone through before, he believed his own lie and treated it like an actual memory. He’s been rewriting the history of the sisters for such a long time and has turned it into something putrid, sinister, and evil. It’s like he’s turned history’s biggest heroes into its biggest villains.
Now the truth is written down in this journal. It’s probably not the smartest move, but I needed to write down the sisters’ true story, before I forget. Before I lose my own will. Before I transform into a twisted, mindless follower. I already feel the hunger for the bread stirring inside me. I even feel the urge to tell the demon what I now know—but that would just be stupid.
Why does he even let me keep this journal anyway? Now that it’s all written down, what do I do with the sisters’ real story?
Despite the haziness in my mind, one thing is certain. If Chaos ever finds out I know the truth…he’ll destroy me.
The Chamber
I feel like I’m totally losing my mind.
I’m trying to focus on the real story of the sisters, and the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that writing it down was the right thing to do.
It has nothing to do with the five sisters being “right” and the demon being “wrong.” After all, the sisters did cheat Chaos out of the natural order of things, and his most abundant time to reign. But it was their choice to make, and Lenaru paid the ultimate price for their decision—a decision which ended up saving us all.
Despite all that, the truth should be recorded, and known. This whole made-up history of total evil, bitterness, murder and revenge is just not accurate. The sisters did what needed to be done. They were not villains.
I’m fixating on this way too much. Or am I? I don’t know anymore. What should I do with their story? What can I do?
The Chamber
Since completing the final ritual, I feel like the haze in my mind has tripled. It’s getting harder and harder to focus, and sometimes I find myself having just stared off into space, with absolutely no idea how much time has passed.
No matter what happens though, I am determined to keep writing it down. Writing in this journal is the only thing that I feel is anchoring me to any kind of sanity or clear thought. But even as I scribble down this entry, it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate.
The Forest Room
I woke up in the chamber with Chaos staring right at me.
He was standing over me with a sick, twisted look on his face. I knew I had been having nightmares, and he seemed to be enjoying the fear I had been experiencing in my sleep.
I stood up and immediately noticed the water and honey bread he had placed next to the fire. I drank and ate automatically, much more like a starved dog than a human being. When I had finished, the pale, bald demon simply stared back at me with cold, indifferent eyes.
I could feel the calming effect of the bread as it made its way into my system. I knew it was already causing me to feel more sedate and compliant. I took a step forward, but the demon glanced down at my journal and pen, and I knew to quickly pick them up and carry them with me. I noticed that he had given me a new pen. He must have known that the old one was starting to run out of ink. And as the haze in my already murky mind thickened, Chaos once again led me to one of the doors.
It Took Billy Page 5
