It was a quintessential psychiatrist’s office, all dark lush woods and walls of bulky texts. And of course, the green leather chaise lounge where the beleaguered could rest their heads and unspool the tragic mysteries of their lives. It was the way it had to be, because devil’s were nothing if not convincing.

Good to see you, Mr. Smith. D’Ville purred in a way that suggested his true feelings lay elsewhere.

Balling his fists into tight white spheres of flesh and bone, Corey couldn’t help but fall into all those same old feelings he had the last time he was in this office. A sense of subtle, knowing, malign intent was radiating from the old man standing before him. A predation hiding behind a preturnaturally white smile and gentle, winking crow’s feet about the eyes.

Leave me alone. Stop all of this and leave me alone. Corey tried to seem collected, but his exhaustion and anger were palpable.

D’Ville turned his head aside a bit, a very human looking indication of confusion. I’m afraid you lost me.

Corey gesticulated wildly as he spoke, rolling his hands in the air for emphasis. All this crazy shit I’ve been seeing! The visions! The blood! Madison and The Engineer! It’s you, isn’t it?! It’s always been you! The doctor opens his mouth to speak, but Corey plunges ahead. And this...this….thing....you’ve got going with Thad….Corey seems frustrated to the point that the words slip through his mind’s eye like ocean current through fingers. Why can’t you just fuck off?!

D’Ville folds his hands behind his back, bending at the waist a bit to cast a quick glance downward to conceal a smirk. So, you think I’ve been making you see things? Terrible visions and the like?

Yes!

He picks his head up. Why would I bother? The words are so cutting and definitive they take Corey by surprise a bit. Corey starts to say something, but it’s his turn to be interrupted. You think I would expend that kind of energy on you? Thinking rather highly of ourselves aren’t we? He jabs at Corey, but remains placid. You’ve got some nerve, coming to ME for help, then unceremoniously “firing” me for the terrible crime of doing what you asked; only to return tossing about accusations! He chuckles mirthlessly.

You know it wasn’t that simple.

Oh no? It wasn’t? Enlighten me, then.

You manipulated me.

With a simple offer? With but a question? Are you truly that malleable?

Corey snorts derisively and folds his arms, shaking his head and saying nothing.

Would you like to have a seat, for old’s time’s sake? He gestures towards the couch.

I’ll stay standing thanks. Then, with a shuddering breath. Was anything you told me even true?

D’Ville considers him for a moment before responding. I told you that The Engineer was no longer a part of you. And yes, that was the truth.

But how do I know you’re not lying?

Because I prefer it if The Engineer is no longer a part of you, because that fact makes you squirm like a punctured worm on the end of a hook. He drops all pretense of magnanimity now, drawing closer to Corey and starting to pace around him. The boy tenses, tracking him with his eyes. You came to me, all those months ago, a frantic child in a broken body. You invoked my name, asked for my aid in making sure you were pure and free of all those nasty bits. Because, in your words, “like recognizes like”. This comes out like a subtle hiss. So yes, I told you you were free. The Engineer IS gone. I treated your broken mind, offering you all those reassurances. Oh, I know you didn’t trust me. I know. But, in some small way, you fascinated me. How often does one get to treat a subject who had not one, but TWO foreign entities living within them.

Glad I could help. Corey mutters, never taking his eyes off the circling vulture making the rounds about him.

And incidentally, you’re welcome. For me not disclosing our sessions earlier. Call it professional courtesy. If you think I’m scary you should see what happens when you violate HIPPA laws. He shudders playfully, stopping his pacing and leaning up against the nearest bookshelf now.

I’m ever so grateful.

Oh, but you should be! You should be! Imagine if everyone knew that you sought help from number one on your douchebag list! He seems to particularly relish saying “douchebag”. How awkward that would have been for you….

Corey’s fury reignites. I don’t need any goddamn favors from you….

.....anymore…..

Corey smirks malevolently, drawing back and pointing at Doc. Anymore…. He whispers, with a combination of anger and...is it regret? So you’re really not doing this to me? None of it?

Nope. He shrugs.

Then who, or what, is?

My guess? Guilt.

...guilt. He utters the word softly, caught somewhere between question and declaration. Then, from behind him, a snapping sound, like mass of dry twigs being broken all at once. He turns, and gasps in horror.

Madison is there, glowering at him from the corner of the room. Black, inky blood pours from the neat bullet hole in her forehead. She takes a lurching step forward, and her body cracks in response, ambling awkwardly like a broken marionette,

No…..

Another step. Another. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. And then, in a flash, she’s there. In his face, blood pumping from the wound in her head, cascading in a fine rivulet down her brow. liarhypocriteweaklingkiller. Her gutteral, hollowed out voice spits the words at him.

Stop it!

Ooooh, Mr. Smith, what do you see? D’Ville hisses from behind.

I said stop it!

Stop what? I told you it isn’t me.

Corey lurches back, and Madison haltingly leans in again, matching his movements. fiend.patheticdeceiver Then, with a loathesome grin that reveals blackened gums and loose teeth. Engineer

No, no, NO! Corey backpeddles, tripping on the rug and falling on his back. Scrambling quickly to his feet, he finds that she’s gone and now D’Ville has moved to stand in her place.

It’s guilt, Mr. Smith. Not a haunted house. No ghosts or ghoulies. Not even an Engineer. He pauses a moment, scanning Corey’s features. You came to me, all those months ago. And I healed you. And in so doing, I made you an offer. I offered to help you avenge Lux. I offered to appease all that rage that still poisoned you. I offered to help you KILL Madison Dyson. No tricks. No brain washing. Just a question. Do you remember how you answered that question?

Corey just scowls at him bitterly.

Of course you do. You said “yes”. You birthed a conspiracy to kill another human being, albeit a loathesome one. So I went to work, whispering in poor addled Mercy’s ear. I gave her the weapon. The deed was done. D’Ville scowls. And then you suffered a bout of buyer’s remorse.

It was wrong. His voice is a shame faced whisper.

Was it? He breathes out a dry chuckle. Maybe. Depends on your point of view I suppose. But it sure as hell said two things about you. One good. One bad. Which do you want to hear first?

Again, the young man remains silent.

Okay. I’m an optimist. Let’s start with the good. Your guilt proves that you’re not The Engineer. He wouldn’t have batted an eye. It shows that there is a streak of decency in you.

But then the other shoe drops. On comes the bad. He smiles. It shows that you’re a coward. You’re no Engineer, but you’re certainly no Lux either. Letting others put their hands in the dirt so that yours might remain clean.

Corey has no response. His gaze cants guiltily to the floor.

So who are you, Corey Smith? Oh, I know who you WANT to be. You want to be the XWF’s lone moral voice. Corey Smith, riding a heavenly light from on high, flaming sword and shield of righteousness in hand. Declaring who is and is not fit to be Universal Champion. Crafting your own personal hit list of degenerates and ne’er do wells with that rapier wit and a condescending smirk. But you and I, we know the truth, don’t we? We know you fall somewhat short of your own standards. And that you’ve spent weeks proselytizing from the pulpit when you were better suited for the pew.

Something catches Corey’s vision from the corners of his eyes. He’s shocked to see that the office is fading to black around him.

And do you know what the real pisser of it is? Another demonic smile. He’s relishing it.

Corey’s head screws back and forth as the entire scene collapses from around him. His breath quickens, he starts to panic. Soon, there is nothing but darkness beneath his feet. And that enshrouding darkness only continues to grow, until it seeps up D’Ville’s leg, taking him with it. But he remains nonplussed.

The real pisser of it is that I think part of you WANTED it to be The Engineer. You wanted there to be someone to hang all the bad stuff on. The nasty thoughts, the rage, the murder. The darkness keeps crawling its way up his body, further and further until his face is a pale moon set against the nothingness.

But it’s just you, Corey.

D’Ville is almost fully engulfed now, and as his face disappears only two haunting red pinpricks of light remain where his eyes were a moment ago.



It’s just you.

The lids shut on the deep red eyes, and as abruptly as it started, it ended. D’Ville’s office was gone and Corey found himself standing in the tub in one of the house’s innumerable bathrooms. Dazed, he steps out of it and shambles into the hall. There, he makes his way back towards the steps, his expression remaining distant and impassive. Slowly he puts one foot before the other, until reaching the ground floor.

But the floor isn’t the floor anymore. He tenses in shock as his sneaker sinks deep into sand that is so deep purple it’s almost black. Picking his foot up, he finds that beneath the dark topmost layer, each grain underneath is a different color, creating a vibrant rainbow effect. Finally, he looks up….and he gasps in awe.



Corey steps in, immersing himself in it. He leaves dancing rainbow tracks in his wake, blown gently by the sea breeze. The blown grains sparkle by the light of the heavenly bodies above, making it seem as if Corey is shedding tiny fleets of stars with each step. Birthing untold mini-cosmos’ as he approaches.

He knows where he is. He knows this place. It was their place. Their memory palace.

A misty indefinite figure starts to form at the other end of the beach. It draws closer, coalescing into a vaguely human form as it goes. Corey stops dead. His mouth ajar, he considers this impossibility with mounting astonishment.

No….not you….. He speaks the words not out of fear, but out of sheer inundation. As though this would be more than he could possibly bear in a meek corporeal form. As though no emotion, no description, no poetic ode, would ever, could ever, suffice.

Ten feet….five feet….the answer is clear now. The mists form a whole.

Lux



Corey stares at her in silence, unable to compel himself to speak. Wordlessly, Lux extends a hand and takes it into his. She guides them closer to the lapping cerulean waves and gently pulls him down to sit next to her. She sits cross legged, and Corey sidles up next to her and places his head in her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Lux reaches up and starts to calmly run her finger tips over the slight curls in his hair. It’s a motherly touch, soothing to the point of compelling Corey to lay himself bare.

I don’t know who I am.

You’re Corey Smith. Her response is stolid, but patient.

I don’t know what that means. The waves are captured in the young man’s eyes, echoing the anxious works within him.

Lux doesn’t speak at first, and continues calmly combing the boy’s hair with her fingers.

It means, you’re free to hate yourself.

Corey withers, and he starts to blink away subtle threatening tears.

It means you’re free to decide when you can stop hating yourself. It means you’re free to forgive but not forget. It means you’re free to hate and love in equal measure. Sometimes at the same time. It means you’re free to make mistakes, even terrible ones, on the path to figuring out who you want to be.

It means you’re free to hurt or heal, and for those decisions to be dissapointingly capricious at times.

You’re free to be wrong. You’re free to try to make it right.

But most of all, you’re free to be a frustrating tangle of inconsistencies. People will try to tear you down for that, but they are too. We all are.

You don’t know what being Corey Smith means? Dear, it means you’re human. More than I or The Engineer ever were. And it means you’re just free

The word “free” echoes about inside Corey’s head, taking up with the sound of the water as a particularly aggressive wave mounts up in the distance but peters out just before reaching them.

Do you think I deserve to be The Universal Champion?

Lux stops petting his hair. I’m just a memory, Corey. What I think doesn’t matter. What do you think?

I….I guess I don’t know.

Lux leans forward a bit, eyes bearing directly down on Corey’s now. If you deserve it, take it. And if you don’t deserve it, find out what’s missing and remedy it until it feels right. She smiles and it’s unusual, like it’s laden down with both compassion and a challenge. A hug and a subsequent push. Then, when it feels right….take it. A pause. Do you understand?

Corey nods. I think so.

Mmmmm. An oblique murmur.

But I don’t think I’ll ever be as strong as you.

Lux’s smile softens. No. You’re stronger.

Corey looks up at her in surprise, and opens his mouth to question the veracity of that statement, but she cuts him off with a look. My twice dead boy. Subjected to enough death, horror and destruction to last multiple lifetimes. Stripped of even that most basic of things people take for granted: free-will. But when the dust settled and all that was over….Lux’s voice goes quieter, and she looks out at the water….a human being who should have been ripe for vengeance and rage...who had every bit the right to carry on being a monster….instead drove himself insane with guilt for slaying a beast and just wants to make his best friend happy. Her smile widens. Her right eye catches the reflection of the planet above them, an image that’s soon sullied by the threat of a tear.

That’s who Corey Smith is.

Lux sweeps her hand over his now sand dusted hair. A loving caress. Corey looks back up at her, quiet and contemplative.

Is this real?

No.

He swallows deep. Will I ever see you again?

No, you don’t need to.

Oh. He shifts his body a bit, turning his head aside so she can’t see the hurt. Can we stay like this a little bit longer though?

Another warm smile. Yes.


Corey awoke with a start on the sectional sofa in the living room. He had fallen asleep in the house by accident, and immediately his breath starts to go deep and ragged. His heart palpitates. But as the fog of sleep relinquished its grip, as reason held court once more, the young man realized something.

It was a quiet house now. Because of course it was. It was always just a house.

And he had slept. For the first time in weeks a truly, deep restful sleep. Turning to the nearest window, he saw a dawn sun climbing up over the horizon. He had been out for well over half a day.

Going to the window now, Corey watched the sunrise. And a genuine, confident smile appeared. His eyes started to sting and grow warm, and a chuckle took hold, soon billowing out into a full blown laugh of relief as his cheeks moistened with salty tears.

As the laughter slowly drew down, and the young man watched the sun continue its ascent, he spoke three words aloud.

What a ride.

The sun’s glow extended into the whole house, breathing new life into it. And when Corey would finally turn away from the sight a half hour later, he would catch sight of the sandy footprints he had left on the carpet.

What a ride

I am the world's forgotten boy
The one who searches and destroys

Look out honey, 'cause I'm using technology
Ain't got time to make no apology
Soul radiation in the dead of night
Love in the middle of a fire fight
Honey, gotta strike me blind
Somebody gotta save my soul