Chương 53: Crouton?

A familiar voice spoke to June. Was someone crunching on croutons? Presumably, the sound of a bag rustling was also present. June opened his eyes. Black June blinked his eyes a couple of times. Black June looked around The world was gone, and there was only a void. There was no color, there was no light. June slapped his ears. There was sound. He looked at his hands. They were there. He looked at his body. He was naked. He had color. The world had no color.

"Pretty Jarring, isn't it?" The familiar voice spoke again.

"Welcome home, June… at least that's what you go by now." His body righted itself, almost like the ground righted itself to his feet despite him being prone. June felt his face, he put his hand into his mouth and felt his teeth, he grabbed his tongue. And then June spoke"Where am I?" The familiar voice spoke.

"Home… wait no…. uhh…. Here?"

"Anyways, June, you're back again? The ol'ball and chain not treating you well?" June scowled at the comment.

"Don't say that about her." The familiar voice laughed; it wasn't magical like a dreamer's, it wasn't angelic like Lilia's. In fact, the familiar voice was his own voice. His old voice, to be specific.

"Lucky bastard finally gets a girlfriend and forgets where he comes from." June felt his hair being ruffled. June moved away, the world felt weird here, his feet decided where down was, and his face decided where forward was. There was no light, but his body still had color.

"Well, June, you almost died, actually, scratch that, you're dead." June looked around. The voice had a clear origin, but the direction also felt weird in this realm.

"What? I…." June felt tears fill his eyes, he fell onto his knees and then onto his hands, and began to cry. Even June himself felt surprised.

'Why am I crying?'

"Well, June, that's because we found love in that world, we found family despite the one we were born with." The familiar voice, his old voice, his own voice sounded melancholic. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"We had purpose."

"I mean, I want to say it was enough for me, but…"

"June, you need to stop dying like this. I'd say you're lucky, but we aren't." June felt tears, more than he knew could flow from one body, flow all at once. He balled himself up and cried; he screamed and cried like a child. A soft hand landed on his hair and patted it.

"There's nothing I could say to ease the pain, I know. I want to even challenge your pain and shout into the world that I had it worse."

"But June, here's the thing, maybe you did have it worse, maybe you did have it better, that's for you to decide." The voice let go of his head, and from the noises of flesh against surface faded as the voice walked away"Crouton?" June jumped. The sound had left, the creature had walked away.

"Y'know, there's no point in narrating in your head, we're the same person after all." The sound of a bag crumbling and croutons crunching were a loud annoyance in the quiet void.

"I mean, in a literal sense we are…. You have things we don't, like love and family, and I have things you don't, like the memories from the body."

"You gotta believe me, we made you mortal, but shit man, immortality sucks."

"I mean, everyone we love dies, I, wait, no, we even resort to pretending that the figments of imagination I have in my head have their own thoughts."

"I mean technically, we do have our own thoughts, but at the same time, the Body purposefully forgets, and therefore we are alive…. In a technical sense, I mean I'm sentient, so are you, I got nothing other than a shape of void, no organs, no balls, no teeth, no eyes, yet I can see, and hear, and make whatever I want."

"Crouton?" June didn't understand what the weird creature was talking about.

"Weird Creature? Come on, man, I've done so much to make sure you have a good life."

"I mean like, do you even realize, my entire life is sitting here and babysitting you."

"Which, in a weird way, is also babysitting me? But I had to re-adjust the world so many god damn times because you keep killing yourself." The voice was starting to sound stressed; in fact, the voice was starting to sound upset. The voice sighed"Oh my god, man, do you have to narrate everything? Wait, no, I do."

"Yada yada yada, take the damn crouton and go home, since you are still technically alive, because yada yada yada your will is ours yada yada yada, bingus." He was about to continue narrating his thoughts until the actual narrator of the story punched him in the balls to wake him up.

June felt his eyes burn, his body burned, he couldn't feel his legs or arms, or anything, but he just felt pain. He tried to scream, but felt a slurry of fluids leak out; he tried to shiver, but his body played dead. It was dead, the familiar voice said so after all. But how was June alive? Why was he alive? He felt his hand shiver; he felt his strands of muscle meet air as they touched his legs, and they began to twitch. His eyes were blinded by the darkness of the night, and yet the little light still stung them.

The parts of his chest that had caved in popped back into place, and air flowed into the breach of the closing wounds of his mashed organs. His nose regained its ability, and his throat retched with bile and bits of flesh sliding out of the parted flesh in his neck. IT BURNS His broken body stood up like a marionette, and black strings from the heavens pierced the roof to move what was left.

LET ME DIE The pain was blinding, his neck was split, and his head was hanging on by a few strips of muscle that reattached themselves. The pain transcended his body; the shock of it all should have been lethal, but where his will had failed to mend his broken form, the black wires from the heavens stepped in to complete his body. June looked through a hanging eye and saw Mortimer being pummeled by the Dreamer. His body felt hot, his teeth started to burn, and his gums started to sear.

His broken jaw and damaged teeth were slowly recovering. BUT THEY WERE NOT PERFECT The fragments of flesh that tattered his neck like a torn banner were healing. BUT IT WAS NOT PERFECT His limbs hung on by tethers of muscle, trying to bring them back to their former glory. BUT THEY WERE NOT PERFECT His covetable eye, the remaining one, hung by a nerve that was tearing from the weight of its own ball. IT WAS NOT PERFECT His body stretched and tore, and steamed and burned, and twisted and hardened.

EXPLODE June's body violently exploded with a squelch, halting the fight between Mortimer and the Dreamer. Mortimer's mouth went agape, and a horrified look smeared across his face. The Dreamer who had mounted the old man to pummel him was covered in June's viscera. The room rang out in silence. Until a shaky, loud voice screamed as if it were beholding the holy grail." PERFECTION" June's body reformed on top of the hulking Dreamer as a slurry, and it slid around the man's body, contracting and contorting it.

It continued this dance of slithering out of his body while he swatted it vainly until all of the slurry slipped into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. The Dreamer's eyes violently popped out of his sockets. The man clutched his head as horns sprouted and his chest tore open into a maw, then his arms started to contort into shapes, making disgusting noises of squelches and crackling bone.

The giant's spine grew and scorpioned into his back and out his chest and into his chest and out his head and into his head and so on. The Dreamer could not scream; his lungs were full of June's liquid viscera. The slurry of June was formed into a body within the juggernaut of a man, and June viciously clawed his way out like a parasite birthing from its living cocoon. June clawed his way out and immediately fell down and threw up violently.

His entire body was convulsing as the blood and viscera covering him were absorbed into his flesh, and the scent of it all made his stomach churn. At some point, instead of throwing up his meal, bits of bone and organ slurry slickly made it down his throat. THEY WERE IMPERFECT Mortimer had shaken his wounds off and had held June in his hands as he violently shook and continuously threw up bits and pieces of unrecognizable flesh. And eventually, June passed out. [END OF VOLUME 1: Dead Men Tell No Tales]