Hi how are you? I saw you came back after your last update so i wanted to request (if you want and if you can of course) a second part of reader with DID (dissociative identity disorder) i have some new ideas about his lore both in hell and when he was human
A few weeks after reader put his mask in a small box The rehabilitation would begin with Charlie talking to Reader to learn more about his past and his other personality.
Reader would tell more about his past, what he had to go through in that laboratory for more than 20 years How each day was worse than the last,how his lungs screamed for oxygen while he remained underwater in the freezing water for hours how his mind begged for rest after being forbidden proper rest and how his stomach writhed with hunger from the food ban and how he had to eat his own flesh to survive another day, how his teeth pierced and tore at his skin and much more than is in the first part
Right after he escaped that lab His journey to find his home and return to his parents would begin,but there was a problem The miner had already gained notoriety with the law; news reports warned of a miner roaming through various cities, killing in the most grotesque ways like tearing apart the rib cage from his victims or gouging out their eyes with a corkscrew.but Despite all the difficulties, he finally found his parents' whereabouts but things didn't go as he expectedHe expected a hug, a welcome back to his old life, only to be greeted by the terrified faces of his parents, tears streaming down their faces. They knew, they saw the news, their son's face in a miner's suit had been revealed And from there,it went all downhill.They didn't let him explain himself, justify himself, but killing is never justified.their son was a murderer, even if none of it was his fault.He couldn't say anything about what he had to go through, that he has DID and that he's not the killer,he could only leave the house with a lost and empty look in her eyes.Everything he did, the entire journey he undertook, everything he suffered, all his effort of endure went to the trash in seconds.
"And... after all that, only one thing remained for me... if I was going to die, I wasn't going to do it as a monster,I did everything I could to make amends for the pain I caused along the way and....the reason i'm in hell is because....he's still in there,over my shoulder,watching,waiting,for the moment to......act"
Now this part of the request takes place in chapter 6
After seeing Angel Dust, everything seemed lost,Sera was about to end the court.But Charlie would remember that she still had one last card, Reader,She would talk about him and say that he has all the requirements that adam gave which would leave Emily confused because.how did such a pure and kind soul end up in hell? Charlie would not only talk about his condition that he has DID but also about the many good deeds he did to make amends for all the atrocities he committed, even if it wasn't his fault.
The bubble changed to reader, who was not with Angel Dust or Cherry Bomb and the others,Charlie thought his other personality was in control, killing some sinner somewhere in hell, but no, Reader was in the hotel's main room, alone, silent.He likes silence and solitude, not because he is antisocial or anything like that But because it reminded him of the peace he felt after each day of being tortured,After the scientists massacred his body, they left him alone and crying.That's where he could have a bit of peace because they didn't return until the next day,Those short but peaceful moments where were he could breathe quietly while saying to himself "keep yourself together,tomorrow is another day"
But Reader wasn't alone, there was someone else.a chair infront of him with the whole miner's suit.gloves, boots, helmet, pickaxe, gas mask, the whole suit in front of him.After a silence that seemed eternal, Reader would begin to speak to the suit, or rather to his other personality And after a conversation in which left reader as if he was talking to thin air,and finally,After years of absolute silence, HE speaked
"I...i've been giving you....notoriety.i can give you...wealth....i can give you ALL that you ever wanted.What was it you wanted? To get rid of me? Is that what you want? Is that what you wanted but You could never make it? All you need to do.....is listen to my proposal.and the freedom is YOURS"
But reader just stood silent
"Why are you looking at me like that? I see (laughs) oh....yeah,i figured this much....of course,you don't want anyone else to die.cam you take a good look at yourself? Look at what you made.look at all you amount to.this is the best chance to get rid of me.all your worth up to this point is GARBAGE and never took you to somewhere,but i can change that.and you turned your nose up at me....cuz you don't want anyone else to die? What's the matter of keep adding kills to the kill count at this point? Just do us both a favor and do it,do it hehehe DO IT"
And with those last words, Reader took the suit and throw it forcefully against the wall, breaking the gas mask,as it fell to the ground reader ran away to his room while a distorted maniacal laugh echoed throughout the hotel (spiderman no way home reference where norman breaks the green goblins mask) and even if he breaks the suit there's always a new one as a replacement his other personality could wear.
postscript:i just realized that the song "nightcall" fits well with reader in the part where it says "there's something inside you" referring to his other personality "it's hard to explain" because his head is a mess "they're talking about you,boy" referring to the fame the miner gained with his murders "but you're still the same" Even after all the hell he went through and continues to go through, he remains a kind, gentle, and good-hearted person.
Title: No Rest for the Innocent (Part 2)
Rating: SFW
Warnings: Psychological trauma, DID themes, medical torture, body horror, emotional abuse, identity crisis, violence, dissociation, implied self-harm/cannibalism for survival, minor gore, panic attacks
Word Count: ~4,000
--- Rehabilitation Room ---
Rain tapped softly against the stained-glass windows.
Charlie had started calling these sessions rehabilitation meetings, though she quickly realized they felt less like therapy and more like sitting beside someone slowly bleeding out emotionally while pretending not to notice the floor turning red.
You sat across from her in silence.
Hands folded.
Eyes lowered.
The room smelled faintly of tea and dust.
Charlie kept her voice gentle.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to.”
You gave a weak nod.
But exhaustion had worn you thin these past weeks. The walls inside your mind were cracking again.
And maybe—
Maybe part of you wanted someone to finally know.
Not the rumors.
Not the murders.
Not him.
You.
Charlie noticed your hands trembling.
“You said before that your other personality was…created?”
Your jaw tightened slightly.
A long silence passed.
Then quietly—
“I don’t remember my real name anymore.”
Charlie froze.
“What?”
“They took it first.”
Your eyes remained fixed on the floor.
“Before the experiments. Before the splitting. Before the miner.” Your voice became distant. “They said names made subjects harder to condition.”
Charlie’s expression faltered.
“Subject?”
You gave a hollow laugh.
“That’s all we were.”
--- Flashback ---
White lights.
Steel walls.
Cold.
Always cold.
You remembered the sound before anything else.
Buzzing electricity.
The hum of machinery.
The click of boots approaching your containment room.
You had been young when they took you.
Too young to understand why adults in white coats smiled while hurting people.
At first they called them tests.
Then conditioning.
Then optimization.
Eventually they stopped calling them anything at all.
“They wanted obedience,” you murmured softly. “Not people.”
Charlie listened without interrupting.
Your fingers slowly curled into fists.
“They kept us underwater for hours.”
Her eyes widened.
Your breathing became uneven as memories surfaced.
“They’d strap weights to our legs and lower us into freezing tanks.” Your voice shook. “Every instinct screamed to breathe. Your lungs burned so badly you thought your chest would rip open.”
Flash.
Water flooding your nose.
Wrists tearing against restraints.
Muffled screaming.
“They wanted to see how long panic lasted before the mind detached itself.”
Charlie looked sick.
You continued anyway.
“Sometimes they’d pull us out just before we blacked out.” A pause. “Sometimes not.”
--- Another Flashback ---
A tray of food being slid past your door.
Then disappearing again untouched.
Days.
Weeks.
Starvation.
Your stomach twisting so violently you could barely stand.
“The food deprivation lasted longest,” you whispered.
Charlie’s hand slowly covered her mouth.
“They wanted aggression. Survival instinct. Dissociation under stress.”
You stared blankly ahead now, no longer seeing the room around you.
“One boy ate the padding from his cell walls.”
Your voice cracked slightly.
“He died choking.”
Silence.
Then quieter—
“I lasted longer.”
Charlie didn’t want to ask.
But she already knew.
You pulled your sleeve up slightly.
Beneath the scars covering your forearm were faint crescent marks.
Human bite marks.
Charlie’s eyes watered instantly.
“Oh my God…”
“I remember thinking,” you whispered shakily, “‘If I eat enough to stay alive… maybe tomorrow won’t hurt as much.’”
Your nails dug into your palms.
“But tomorrow always came.”
“They broke people there,” you said quietly. “Some screamed until their throats collapsed. Some forgot language entirely.”
Charlie leaned forward slightly.
“And you?”
Your expression went empty.
“I survived.”
Not proudly.
Not triumphantly.
Like survival itself had become a punishment.
“They pushed my mind so far that eventually…” Your voice lowered. “Something answered.”
The lights flickering during electroshock therapy.
Blood running from your nose.
A voice in the darkness.
Not loud.
Not monstrous.
Calm.
Cold.
Protective.
I can make it stop.
You swallowed hard.
“At first he only appeared during the worst experiments.”
Charlie listened carefully.
“He took the pain.”
You laughed weakly.
“No. That’s the lie I told myself.”
Your eyes slowly lifted to meet hers.
“He enjoyed it."
Charlie sat very still.
Not afraid of you.
Never that.
But heartbroken.
You rubbed tiredly at your eyes.
“When he finally became…stable… everything changed.”
--- Flashback ---
Sirens.
Red emergency lights.
Bodies on the floor.
Scientists screaming.
The miner walking silently through smoke.
Pickaxe wet with blood.
You remembered watching from somewhere deep inside your own skull.
Unable to move.
Unable to stop him.
But for the first time—
The doors opened.
Freedom.
You escaped the facility during the massacre.
Barefoot.
Half-starved.
Bleeding through hospital wrappings.
The world outside felt unreal after twenty years underground.
You remembered standing beneath rain for almost an hour because no one stopped you.
No restraints.
No needles.
No cages.
Just rain.
And hope.
“I wanted to go home,” you whispered.
Charlie smiled sadly.
“Your parents?”
You nodded.
“For weeks I searched for them.”
But the world already knew your face.
Televisions in store windows played distorted footage.
News anchors speaking with horrified expressions.
Authorities warn citizens to remain indoors…
The masked killer known only as “The Miner”…
Victims discovered mutilated beyond recognition…
Photographs flashed onscreen.
Rib cages torn open.
Eyes gouged out.
Bodies hanging from industrial hooks.
The miner became an urban legend almost overnight.
A monster people whispered about online late at night.
And eventually—
They revealed your identity.
You shut your eyes tightly.
“They showed my face everywhere.”
Charlie’s expression softened.
“I’m sorry…”
You ignored the sympathy.
Because this part still hurt too much.
“I found my parents two months later."
The house looked smaller than you remembered.
Blue paint peeling.
Wind chimes softly clinking on the porch.
Your mother opened the door.
And for one impossible second—
Hope returned.
You thought she would recognize you.
Thought maybe everything could still be fixed.
You smiled shakily.
“Mom…”
Her face collapsed in horror.
Your father appeared behind her.
Then immediately froze.
Not relief.
Not joy.
Fear.
Pure fear.
“They knew.”
Your voice hollowed out.
“They’d seen the broadcasts.”
You remembered your mother beginning to cry instantly.
Your father stepping in front of her protectively.
Like you were an animal.
You tried to explain.
Tried desperately.
But how do you explain twenty years of torture in thirty seconds?
How do you explain that the murderer wearing your body isn’t you?
You remembered your father shouting—
“Get away from this house!”
Your mother sobbing into her hands.
You remembered reaching toward them.
And both of them flinching.
Like they thought you might kill them too.
Charlie wiped at her eyes.
You laughed quietly.
Brokenly.
“I walked for hours after that.”
Your stare drifted toward the rain outside.
“Everything I survived for disappeared in under a minute.”
“And after all that,” you whispered, “only one thing remained for me…”
Charlie stayed silent.
“If I was going to die…” Your voice trembled faintly. “I wasn’t going to die as a monster.”
So you tried.
God, you tried.
You stopped fights.
Protected strangers.
Worked under fake names.
Fed homeless shelters.
Turned yourself in anonymously multiple times only to flee whenever the miner resurfaced again.
You spent years trying to bury him.
Trying to become good enough to outweigh the blood.
But every massacre reset everything back to zero.
Every body he left behind became another chain around your throat.
You looked at Charlie with exhausted eyes.
“I did everything I could to make amends for the pain I caused.”
A pause.
“And the reason I’m in Hell is because…” Your voice weakened. “…he’s still in there.”
Your hand slowly pressed against your chest.
“Over my shoulder.”
Another pause.
“Watching.”
Silence.
“Waiting.”
Charlie reached across the table carefully and took your trembling hand.
“For the moment to act,” you finished quietly.
The room fell silent again.
But this time—
You didn’t pull your hand away.
The courtroom glowed with divine gold.
Massive wings unfurled across marble pillars.
The trial had already gone terribly.
Angel Dust’s redemption argument was collapsing beneath Adam’s laughter and Sera’s cold skepticism.
Emily looked conflicted.
Charlie looked desperate.
“It doesn’t matter how nice they act,” Adam scoffed, spinning his exterminator spear lazily. “Sinners are sinners.”
Sera’s expression remained unreadable.
“The court has heard enough.”
Charlie’s heart dropped.
No.
Not yet.
Please not yet.
Then suddenly—
She remembered you.
Her eyes widened slightly.
“There’s one more person,” Charlie said quickly.
Adam groaned dramatically.
“Oh my God, another one?”
Charlie ignored him.
“There’s someone at the hotel who meets every requirement you gave.”
That got Emily’s attention.
“What?”
Charlie stepped forward.
“He’s kind. Selfless. Gentle. He protects people. He regrets the harm done in his life more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Adam snorted.
“So why’s he in Hell?”
Charlie hesitated.
Then quietly—
“Because the person who committed those crimes shared his body.”
The courtroom went still.
Emily frowned softly.
“I don’t understand…”
Charlie swallowed.
“He has Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
Even Sera’s gaze sharpened slightly.
Charlie continued carefully.
“He was tortured for over twenty years in a laboratory. His mind fractured from the abuse.”
The bubble beside her flickered to life.
And instead of violence—
Instead of carnage—
It showed you sitting alone in the Hazbin Hotel lobby.
Silent.
Still.
Adam blinked.
“That’s the guy?”
No chaos.
No blood.
Just dim lighting and silence.
You sat motionless in an armchair.
Hands folded quietly in your lap.
The hotel was empty tonight.
And for you—
That was comforting.
Silence meant peace.
Silence meant nobody screaming.
Nobody hurting you.
Nobody opening the containment door again.
Charlie’s voice echoed softly through the courtroom.
“He likes being alone sometimes.”
Emily watched carefully.
“Why?”
Charlie’s expression saddened.
“Because after the scientists tortured him… they’d leave him alone afterward.”
The courtroom went quiet again.
“In those moments,” Charlie whispered, “he could finally breathe.”
The image zoomed slightly closer.
And that’s when they noticed it.
The chair in front of you.
The miner’s suit resting perfectly upon it.
Boots.
Gloves.
Helmet.
Gas mask.
Pickaxe.
Like a corpse laid out for burial.
Emily shivered slightly.
Adam frowned.
“What the hell is he doing?”
Charlie didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know either.
You stared at the suit for a long time.
Then finally—
You spoke softly.
“You’re quieter lately.”
Nothing answered.
Yet you continued anyway.
Like someone speaking to a ghost only they could see.
“I know what you want.”
Silence.
“You always want the same thing.”
Still nothing.
Then suddenly—
The gas mask tilted slightly.
The courtroom collectively froze.
Charlie’s eyes widened.
Emily stared in disbelief.
And for the first time—
The miner spoke.
His voice sounded rusted.
Like machinery dragging across concrete.
“I…”
Static crackled faintly.
“…I’ve been giving you notoriety.”
You froze in your chair.
The courtroom erupted into horrified whispers.
The miner continued slowly.
“I can give you…wealth…”
The mask twitched toward you.
“I can give you…ALL that you ever wanted.”
Your breathing became shaky.
“What was it you wanted?” he rasped.
Silence.
“To get rid of me?”
The miner laughed quietly.
Broken.
Distorted.
“Is that what you want?”
His voice lowered further.
“All you need to do…”
The pickaxe scraped softly against the floor.
“…is listen to my proposal.”
Emily looked horrified.
“And freedom is YOURS.”
You remained silent.
Head lowered.
Then the miner tilted his head slowly.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
A crackling laugh escaped him.
“Oh…”
Another laugh.
“…yeah.”
His voice became crueler.
“I figured this much.”
The mask leaned closer toward you.
“Of course.”
“You don’t want anyone else to die.”
The courtroom had gone completely silent now.
Even Adam wasn’t speaking anymore.
The miner laughed harder.
“Can you take a good look at yourself?”
The voice became venomous.
“Look at what you made.”
“Look at all you amount to.”
He pointed the pickaxe toward your chest.
“This is the best chance to get rid of me.”
“All your worth up to this point is GARBAGE.”
The words hit like bullets.
“And it never took you anywhere.”
The miner’s breathing distorted through the mask.
“But I can change that.”
A pause.
“And you turned your nose up at me…”
The voice cracked into manic laughter.
“…because you don’t want anyone else to die?”
He leaned forward suddenly.
“What’s the matter with keeping adding kills to the kill count at this point?”
His voice rose violently.
“JUST DO US BOTH A FAVOR AND DO IT.”
The hotel lights flickered.
“DO IT.”
“DO IT!”
“DO IT!”
Breaking Point
And suddenly—
You snapped.
With a choked sound of anguish, you grabbed the suit violently and hurled it across the room.
The gas mask smashed against the wall.
Cracking apart instantly.
The courtroom gasped.
You stumbled backward breathing hard, tears already forming.
“No—NO—”
The broken mask hit the floor.
And from somewhere deep within the hotel—
Distorted laughter echoed.
Maniacal.
Inhuman.
The same laughter continued even as the suit lay broken and motionless.
Because the suit had never mattered.
It was only a symbol.
A shell.
There would always be another one.
Another mask.
Another pickaxe.
Another night.
You ran.
Straight down the hallway toward your room.
The laughter followed the entire way.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Emily looked devastated.
Charlie’s eyes shimmered with tears.
Adam’s grin had vanished completely.
Sera stared silently at the shattered gas mask onscreen.
Then finally—
Emily whispered softly:
“He’s suffering.”
Charlie nodded.
“Yes.”
Emily looked toward the court.
“And despite everything…”
The image lingered on your empty chair.
“…he still doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
Charlie smiled sadly.
“That’s who he is.”
And somewhere far below Heaven—
Curled alone behind a locked bedroom door—
You repeated the same words you once whispered inside that laboratory decades ago.
Collapse Chronicles Entry – Interlude — Signal Host: Dream Fractures – By Geox
She didn’t know who had given her the orchard. Maybe no one had. Maybe it had grown on its own, faster and wilder the more she forgot who she was. The first spiral, she remembered, wasn’t a symbol. It wasn’t sacred or meant to last. It was a way out, a gesture of motion without end. They had asked her, once, to think of peace. She had tried. And something deep within her cracked open and began to…
My dear brother sat there.Has glass orb for eyes,muted light reflected on the surface,mouth stitched halfway closed,fraying threads dangling on the other half,gray skin, cold as concrete.
Who are you?Don’t you remember?
His head swiveled into the empty space.
“Guy, your brother.”
‘Your nameis smudged in my head,dead on my tongue.Who am I?’
“Dario…”
‘Must have been my name.’
His eyes, glass…
New Post has been published on Crown of Compassion
New Post has been published on https://www.crownofcompassion.org/2020/06/12/voice-of-reason-and-right-drowned-out/
Voice of reason and right - drowned out
“Ultimately, selfishness drowns out both their (betrayer’s) love for others and the voice of reason and right. I think every betrayal, in its own way, is an allegiance to something other than love, other than the person they are hurting. . . . It’s a crisis of character.”- Phil Waldrep
As Phil Waldrep continues Chapter 3 of Beyond Betrayal, he observes that a key issue with betrayers centers on a broken identity. Hence, betrayers believe they can fix that problem as they fulfill what they want. Certainly, that’s more important than staying faithful to the betrayed person.
Above all, most of the time betrayers start with making small trade-offs. So small they escape notice. For example, Judas began the road to betrayal when he started taking money from the common purse – when no one else was looking. Thus, Phil explains how this steamrolls:
“Slowly those betrayals grow bolder and less ambiguous. With each act their consciences grew quieter, until they were seared and silenced. . . . The person doesn’t expect to get caught, but each little trade-off inches them closer to the day they will. Each small betrayal demands they justify their actions to themselves over and over again until they have no clue how ridiculous their excuses sound.”
Of course, to betrayers, their excuses sound perfectly logical. However, you know that if you walked in their shoes, you wouldn’t have betrayed them. And that, Phil underscores, represents the contrast between a betrayer and those he/she betrays. It’s a completely different mind-set to value relationships above desires. That’s what makes betrayal so inconceivable.
But, before the major betrayal occurs, in retrospect you see how the betrayer sowed the seeds of that betrayal for years. Alone, the deceiver secretively determined to fulfill their own desires or meet their own needs. Over and over again.
Yet, don’t blame yourself. Because you gave your betrayer grace – and never caught on to their scheme.
Today’s question: What Bible verses keep you from drowning out the voice of reason and right? Please share.
Coming Monday: the June Short Meditation, “The immanence of God – closer than close”
