Oct 24, 2021
-LOID will become real.
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Russia
seen from Malaysia
-LOID will become real.
tw: slight suicide mention
his voice was low and scratchy. he sounded as if he had been crying for hours.
"are you okay? … have you been smoking?"
"no." he hastily tossed something to the side. the scent of cigarette lingered in the air, preserving his blatant lie.
"you look so tired. have you been sleeping?"
"... not… really…" he took a deep breath, "ive had some time to think about what id done. and what has been done to me to condition me into the person i was…" he started.
"i have been very tired. not in the sense like 'not sleeping' tired- im… im tired of being here."
he looked at the empty sky above them. not a star in sight.
"im tired of going after a kid who's done nothing wrong. im tired of lying to everyone around me. im tired of being alive. it just doesnt feel worth it anymore…" the phlegm in his throat choked off his last word and sent him into a coughing fit.
after the fit subsided, he swallowed hard, and continued, "im tired of the beatings being the only thing reminding me that this is real. and that theres no way im getting out of this."
"we… we can talk about this, you know? i can help, I think. it doesnt have to be this way-"
"lady like…" he turned towards her.
the bags under his eyes were prominent in the darkness. there were bruises on the top of his eye stalk and his left arm was wrapped in gauze, a blue tinge was beginning to show at the epicenter. something had cut him.
his appearance frightened her
"theres no point in worrying about me. either the king will die of his supposed illness, or i will die by his hands. i dont care which comes first anymore. ive lost all hope of escape."
she was visibly shaken by his view on the situation. how bleak it seemed to be. he was trapped; for what he thought would be forever, and everybody knew it was true.
"go to bed." he told her, plainly.
she nodded hesitantly. "alright…"
she slowly walked to the door. she turned around one last time to see that he had resumed staring at nothing.
"good night, escargoon."
the click of the door latch echoed throughout.
something i wrote a while ago to show how life was for e-loid before he was e-loid
____
Millions of dollars down the drain. Another day’s energy laid to waste. Couldnt he just have a decent fucking day?! Why couldnt he just have a nice peaceful life, instead of one as hellish as this? There was no time to stop and just relax. He felt like death from the constant beatings. He didnt care if his boss was still “sick,” he didnt care if it affected his boss’ temper. He could at least try to control himself, he thought.
He walked into his bathroom to treat his wounds, flicking on the light. It gave a low buzz and flickered slightly. It would need to be changed soon.
He opened the cupboard under the sink and took note of its contents. There was still plenty of supplies left.
He unrolled the gauze, re-wrapping it around his left shoulder. The metal frame of the hammer had sliced it open. He hoped it wasnt rusty.
“With how many head wounds i get, im surprised i havent gone blind.“ he thought aloud, wrapping the thin, stiff fabric around the top of his eyestalk where he had gotten an electrical burn. It hurt to touch.
He set the gauze on the counter with a huff and looked at himself in the mirror. He was so disheveled he felt as if it was someone else looking back at him.
He knew that what he did was wrong, yes. But every bit of discipline came from the wrong side. Every bit of discipline came for the wrong reason.
His so-called enemy hadnt directly hurt him even once. Yet he couldnt accept that some of the things that happened werent directly his fault.
What the hell am I doing… he thought.
He leaned over the counter and studied himself, making sure he had covered any wound that could lead to infection.
The longer he looked, the angrier he became.
He felt he was no longer staring at himself, but at a monster. He looked at the face of a man who assisted in the act of attempter murder against children. The face of a man who destroyed ecosystems by becoming a bystander. Laughing along as he watched fire consume the world.
He was looking at a monster.
He lashed out at his own reflection, spilling shards of glass onto the floor, counter, and sink. He hissed in pain, clutching the hand that had broken his image moments before.
Dark, blue dots painted the floor in a steady rhythm.
He screwed his eyes shut and took deep breaths, keeping the tears at bay.
He pinched the base of his eyestalk with his free hand, sighing heavily.
He needed to get out of this somehow.