So by semi-popular demand, here is my short story I wrote for school!
It's called "I had no choice", and it's about my OC Chloe and what happened after she took the heart.
There is a little bit of worldbuilding that I couldn't fit into the maximum wordcount, so in case you want it you can read more about it here and here. I recommend you read it after the short story for the best experience.
Let me know if I should post/write about them more!
I had no choice
Chloe had decided that she would not be going to heaven. But she also realised that not many others would. Therefore, heaven would be lonely and sad and BORING, so hell would probably be more interesting. And that meant she had nothing to worry about if she died! What a silly girl she was, worrying about something as trivial as “heaven” or “hell”, especially when she had much bigger problems. Like, say, figuring out how to put up with the shifting vermillion orb that was the literal embodiment of her god. Chloe wondered if she would’ve decided to take the heart if she knew it never wanted to shut up.
In hindsight, a school girl from The Organization, no matter how strong, fast, or hopelessly stubborn, storming up to the entity that The Organization worshipped so much, AND having the nerve to demand ownership can’t have been the result of a well-considered plan. And yet, that’s where Chloe found herself.
“You gained control fair and square, little one. I’m almost impressed, even if you dealt with your predecessor a little slow for my liking. You’re supposed to be the quick one, are you not?”
The heart hummed softly, though its praise fell on deaf ears.
“Who cares what happened. It wasn’t my fault, and we both got what we wanted. I’m not with them anymore, and you… well, I don’t know what you get out of me being the leader, but you seem pretty damn pleased”
Despite how much the nebulous deity insisted on talking to her, Chloe found herself being continuously confused the more it talked. It was an enigma - endlessly contradicting what Chloe had been taught from The Organization’s mandatory sermons. Instead of a regal, hellish punisher, Chloe had found herself the commander of a scientist who gives a child a knife just to see what it does with it. Someone who took notes on the ballistics of a car collision instead of helping the victims. Something that didn’t hurt out of malice, or even do it themselves. It amplified and encouraged the already present corruption and cruelty from people, but couldn’t force it, as the heart liked to remind Chloe. It didn’t make her do it. Every screaming match, every blow to the face, every act of violence far too savage for someone of her status was entirely Chloe's choice.
“I can hear your criticism from here. Judging is a sin, you know. It’s a little ironic that my god isn’t obeying its own religion.”
“I hope they realise that I am quite literally a reflection of their own desires. How selfish. Maybe you should let them know they’re just praising themselves with a few extra steps. But then again, I can’t say I’m not pleased with the amount of human-ness that is.”
“Well, they say it’s an organization anyway. Church, cult, faith, heavily disguised scam, whatever you wanna call it. And I don’t think they’d listen. Or care. Or change anything. They say a lot of things, but I don’t know how much they mean.”
Chloe trailed off, eyes flicking to the broken window in the corner. She crossed her arms tight over her chest, as if shielding from an unknown touch. Despite being far far away from the cult organization, Chloe couldn’t shake the endless rules, the punishments she couldn’t quite understand, or the pressure keeping her neatly trapped on her family’s perch on top of the hierarchy. Over a decade of shame wasn’t easily unlearned, but the sins she committed to escape it were just as suffocating.
“Distracted, are we? Do I have to take a different approach to get you to listen?”
Chloe flinched. She doubted the heart could hit her, but it was capable of much worse. Chloe wished it could just break her nose and get on with it. She was used to hits. At least fractures would heal. The air shifted, and Chloe spotted a hint of stormy blue hair, and a touch of concerningly pale skin, dotted with both new and old bandages. Familiar. Before the heart could fully transform, Chloe drove her foot against its side.
Again and again, Chloe kicked the form of the previous leader through the gaze. At some point, she found herself using her fists as well. Breath ragged and eyes wild, Chloe grabbed his now clear body by the neck, digging her nails in as deep as she could manage.
“Don’t you dare pretend to be Luke. If you turn into him again, I will kill you and then myself, and then you’ll be left without a vessel. You hear me?”
Instead of being loud, Chloe’s words dripped with ice, though she couldn’t conceal how her voice trembled with fury.
“Aha, that got your attention! But I have to ask, don’t you feel guilty for trying to kill Luke twice? He was just a kid you know, so tragic”.
Heart-Luke laughed, utterly unphased.
“Although you probably should know, I don’t exactly have nerves. You’re just hurting yourself, so why not just cease your little tantrum and let me speak?”
It spoke so naturally, like Luke’s voice had always belonged to it. But it wasn’t wrong - any normal person would have been choking or crying or begging or something, but Heart-Luke didn’t even bleed. Chloe slowly released her grip, still glaring and ready to swing another punch.
While I appreciate the amount of energy you’re putting into defending yourself, we both know it’s in vain. It’s really not that hard to just admit you had better options. You can’t complain anyway, you knew what you were signing up for. You challenge your predecessor for the heart, kill them, take the heart, and then kill those who challenge you. That’s just how you people have chosen to do things. Just admit you killed him, you’re gonna have to get used to it.”
“SHUT UP. JUST…”
A ragged choke escaped Chloe’s throat, as if her words were blood that needed to be coughed up. Through her frenzy, she was vaguely aware of something warm and wet trickling down her face.
“I KNOW HE’S DEAD. HE’S FUCKING DEAD AND IT’S MY FAULT. ARE YOU HAPPY?! IS THAT THE ANSWER YOU WANTED? HE’S DEAD. DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD.”
Tell me you killed him
Silence. One party refused to talk, while the other knew that holding his tongue would produce the best reaction. The action was so Luke-like that Chloe wanted to rip out every strand of her inappropriately clean, alabaster hair. White was too easily stained to be seen in a place so full of death. Chloe made a mental note to dye it later on.
“I… I stabbed him. Then I pushed him”
Are you trying to blame his murder on gravity?
“I wouldn’t have needed to kill him if he wasn’t the leader, ok? If you just didn’t fuck with my brain, maybe I wouldn’t have done it too. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t have even come to the tower if my family could keep their hands to themselves.”
Heart-Luke shook his head with a smile that could’ve passed as affectionate. He was a little taller than Chloe remembered - he didn’t have the abysmal posture that gave him the look of a man ten times his age. Without saying a word, Heart-Luke stood up, and placed something small and heavy in Chloe’s hands. He winked, and the air shattered like shards of glass. When Chloe could breathe again, she looked down. A mobile phone. And a sticky note with a few numbers. Underneath, the heart had scrawled a few simple words. And a doodle of a heart. Of course it added that.
Child abuse hotline ♡
The phone was completely flat.
Chloe felt the overwhelming urge to fling it against the wall.
It had been a good few days since Chloe had spoken. Tinkering with new traps, sussing out levels of the tower that she hadn’t seen when challenging Luke. Desperately trying to cover that stupid broken window, anything to keep her thoughts from wandering to the heart. Thankfully, the heart had stayed far away after her “little tantrum”, allowing for some much-needed alone time. The levels seemed to stretch on forever, each room looking as if from an entirely different building. Some aimless wandering later, Chloe arrived at the portrait wall. She’d been procrastinating for weeks, but now seemed like a fitting time. Bitten nails traced the last empty space on the wall, and Chloe let out a breath. It was time to frame Luke’s funeral portrait.
It was less of a funeral than a tradition, but every challenger and leader who died in pursuit of the heart was honoured with a photo on the wall. Luke had been dead for a while, yet his spot remained empty. With a flick of her wrist, Chloe summoned an unassuming polaroid of the boy she refused to admit she killed. In the photo, he wasn’t dead. Not exactly healthy, but alive. And smiling, with the exact same shit-eating grin Chloe remembered from the few hours they spent together.
“Hey man. Sorry about the whole ‘killing you’ thing. Buuuuuut you know how it is. I bet you’re having fun in hell though. There’s no way in hell you got into heaven, no leader ever does. But hey, sacrifices, yaknow? You didn’t seem that bad though, especially compared to what I learned about leaders in school. When I showed up to the tower… you helped me. You could’ve killed me straight away, but you pretended to be my ally until we reached the heart. I still wonder if that made you more or less of a jackass. Maybe we could’ve gotten along under different circumstances. If I had a choice.”
I think it sucks that you have to go to so many different kinds of doctor to take care of yourself. It's the 21st century. I should be able to go to a single office where they scan me with a big xerox machine and tell me what I'm allergic to and why my tummy hurts and if I have any cancer or cavities or if my glasses prescription has changed. And then I should get a sticker.
I've spent the past month cooped up in a motel in Orange County planning my theft, before I steal the sign I will set off a cache of fireworks I've placed 5 blocks away from the nearest police station which will rain down on the pigs, the perfect diversion.
people can’t be immortal. so in order to be immortal you can’t be a person anymore. you have to be distilled. stripped of everything. till you come out the other side as an abstract concept.
I don’t know how you got a good grade in being a passenger on an airline but that’s a totally normal thing to achieve and I’m not seething with jealousy at all.
i always forget religious posts like this are dead serious because starting out with the phrase “i knew my flesh was evil” is so incredibly funny to me
pixelskylines
turnnoffyourmind
dededos
kianamaiart
