Mey Hem RPG Micropiece Theater

A triumphant soundtrack blared as a woman clad in white leathers dropkicked a zombie then swiftly pulled out a shotgun and shot another under an uncharacteristically bright full moon. Roock and Beanuu sat and watched in excitement. "This movie is great!" "Yeah, and the music rocks, too!"

They watched as a tall, shirtless vampire approached the heroine from an overlooking hill. This vampire had popped up to antagonize her throughout the movie. She tensed once she saw him. He reached out to her and opened his mouth...to sing.

"Blood boiling, emotions so right.
Yet you keep running, I must give a fright.
No need to fear me, in the moonlight.
Watch me shimmer, shimmer in the niiiiiiii..."
"This...wasn't what I expected."
"iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"
"Yeah, I expected a big fight scene."
"iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"
"He's really holding that note."
"iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii"
"Gotta give him credit for that."
"iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight."

Once the vampire stopped, the heroine began to sing, "When you chase me, I feel so alive..." but Beanuu jumped up and shouted "No! Why is she singing? I get vampire gloating but her?" Roock shrugged and said, "I dunno, dude. I didn't write it." The image paused and Friday asked, "Should I stop the movie?" Beanuu paused and then sighed, "I guess we'll finish it. Wouldn't want to miss the end if we have it."

As the wave of purification washed over her, she felt its soft warmth reach into each and every cell of her body. As a limb gone numb slowly wakes to sensation, so was the exquisite agony she experienced everywhere all at once.

But that was nothing compared to what was happening in her mind.

The transformation had slowly eroded her memories, eating away at her sense of self, twisting her thoughts and driving her into madness. It was as if her mind was a bookshelf, and the books on the shelf were being slowly devoured by voracious worms. The light that came burned the vermin away, but the books, already in tatters, fell from the shelves, scattering pages everywhere.

Pages. Everywhere.

What a mess.

She had no choice.

She had no self.

She only knew that someone had to pick up these pages.

As she picked up each page, it spoke to her.

She heard the voice of each page she collected.


Whose voices were these?


Was one of these voices hers? She continued to pick up the pages.

"Everything comes with a price. Especially magic it seems. Fascinating."
"That’s a dangerous path you walk. Dark and lonely.”
"Sometimes we do bad things to survive."
"Yuh a too young to get de joke, Elfubuh. Too young."
I-I know what it's l-like to hate yourself. It's a horrible feeling that twists everything about how you look at yourself. You can't win, because you don't deserve to win.
"Um...hey. Are you okay? There's a lot going on out there. It's okay to be scared. I know I am. Just...I think you can do more than I can. I don't want to be deactivated. I...I don't want to die."
"Please help us. Together, we can be a stronger force for good."

*****

Patch gasped with shock as she was suddenly aware of herself again.

She was in a place that couldn't be real. All around her, a luminescence that seemed to be without a source, yet it was everywhere. The ground beneath her was bleached white, the sky white, nothing on the horizon but an endless expanse of white. The air was calm.

She knelt down to look closer at the ground. It was made of pages. The text on them was hard to see at first, but as she looked closer, she could make out the words. These were her memories, she realized. Countless pages spelling out the moments of her existence. Most of it the boring, everyday tedium that makes up the fabric of life. Idle moments, frivolous dreams. But she could feel darker thoughts buried beneath the surface...

It occurred to her that she was not alone in this space. She stood up and looked around. But it was beneath her feet that she finally saw it: a shadow was beginning to take form, in defiance of all the surrounding light. And it was growing.

It stretched out and away from her, running like a river towards the horizon, growing wider and darker. The bright light all around her began to grow darker. A brisk wind picked up, tearing pages from the ground and blowing them past her. She watched in open-mouthed horror as the shadow began to rise up and take shape.

She took a step backwards, then another. She tried to turn and run from it, but her feet failed her and she fell. Lying on the ground, she looked up at the immense, shadowy being that seemed to fill the bounds of the ephemeral space with its presence. It stared down at her with cold, glowing eyes while loose pages swirled in the winds around it. It was in this place, surrounded by memories, that she finally understood.

"I know what you are."

Her thoughts were more lucid now than ever. It was simply a matter of tracing everything back to where it all started.

The first spell I cast from that grimoire.

She yelled up at the shadow over the now-howling winds. "Back then, I knew what it meant to cast that spell. It was pure evil. But in a moment of fear, I gave in. I let myself take that power to defend myself. And it felt... amazing. For a brief moment, all the fear washed away, and I was left feeling something I'd never felt before: powerful. But only for a moment. Because an even greater fear came next... the knowledge that I'd crossed a line. And that I was absolutely willing to cross it again for the reward of feeling powerful again."

The grimoire's prophecy. My fate.

"The grimoires I collected over the years held dark powers that I, as a human mage, could never hope to control. I knew it, but they knew it too. That's why they lied to me, telling me I was already doomed from the start, that nothing I could do would change it. My fear of that fate only made me fall deeper into the trap that had been set. I began to look for some way to delay the inevitable..."

The pendant.

"I tried to ward off my darkness with a spell that bound my negative emotions to that pendant. At the time, I didn't realize what I was truly doing. The negative energy siphoned from the spells I cast fed the emotions bound inside the stone, and they took on a life of their own. Over time, they grew strong enough that the connection started to reverse. Those emotions began to feed me."

She gazed up at the dark being looming above her.

My shadow.

"That's what you are. My sadness, my fear, my loneliness, my anger, my grief. Reinforced with dark magic, growing ever stronger until Moscareina's power finally pushed me over the edge, allowing you to take over."

Understanding her words, the being responded by reaching out to seize her with its shadowy grasp.

"But Moscareina's gone now. Her vile magic was purified and our connection was severed. You... you have no power left!" She shouted at the shadow. "For you to appear like this, here and now... it's not because you're stronger than me anymore. It's because of how terrified I am of finally accepting you!"

She reached out her own hand to meet the shadow's, and when they touched, a powerful reaction began absorbing the shadow... first, its hand with its wispy claws, then its long, black arm, until the whole of the shadowy being was being drawn into the palm of her hand.

"You're a part of me... and I need to take responsibility for you... even if it's the last thing I do...!"

As the last remnants of her shadow were pulled into her hand, her arm snapped backwards. The stormy atmosphere all around her in the strange space had dissipated with the shadow's disappearance. She looked at her clenched fist and tightened it, watching as a few tiny wisps of darkness escaped between her fingers before vanishing. She slowly opened her hand. There, resting in her palm, was a tiny point of light.

"What is this..."

It began to glow brightly, filling her whole field of vision.

...a memory?

*****

I'm sitting in a chair outside my brother's bedroom. I feel anxious and scared, but I'm glad I was able to find the town's doctor. Maybe there's still time. Maybe...

The door opens with a creak and the doctor steps out. He motions to me to enter the room. I get up from the chair and walk inside.

Loren is lying on his bed. He smiles at me as I walk in. His chest is wrapped in bandages and they're soaked with blood.

Before I can say anything, he speaks. "I'm glad you're okay." His voice is weak.

I can't find my words now. I'm sure he can tell by the look on my face what I'm thinking. "Nah, I'm probably not going to make it. But... you know what, I don't regret a thing. You're safe. I'm okay with knowing it was for the right reasons."

The tears I've been holding back come rushing out. I fall to my knees at the side of the bed. I want to wrap my arms around him and hold on to him, but I know it would hurt. So I just grab the edge of the blanket and squeeze it.

I feel him place his hand on my head. "Patch," he says softly. "Listen... I talked with the doctor. He's going to help you get out of here. It's dangerous to stay any longer. There's places you can go where there are others with gifts like yours. You'll meet new people, make new friends. This world needs people like you, people with good hearts who can make a difference."

I want to believe what he's saying. But I'm afraid to go on alone.

"Don't give up, Patch. I know, someday, you'll change this world for the better."

Harue blinked absently at the small stage setup in the corner.
"Is he for real?" She asked the bartender, without taking her eyes off the stage.
"I ask myself that same question every time he comes in." The barkeep also has his eyes glued to the stage, absently wiping a non-existant glass that had long ago dropped to the floor unnoticed.
Harue could only nod in response.
After a few minutes, Thubtien hopped off the stage, slightly sweaty from the dance moves he had just pulled.
"How was that?" He winked at Harue and ordered a glass of water. The barkeep blushed and scrambled away.
"I-I... your voice! And those moves!" Harue huffed, more out of breath than Tien was.
"See? Told you you'd like Carry-okie. Not a bad second date, huh?" He took his water and gulped half of it down. "Why don't you give it a shot? There's no one else here but us this early. And him." Tien finger-gunned at the barkeep, who coughed and occupied himself with an actual glass.

~*~*~*~

"Told you I don't sing well." Harue came down from the stage after only a few lines of the song. The barkeep still had his hands plastered against his ears, eyes glazed at some unseen horror beyond the stage.
Tien lowered his hands from his own head cautiously with a stiff grin.
"Um, well, you put a lot of heart into-"
"I stink."
"With practice, I'm sure-"
"Won't help." Harue popped some peanuts into her mouth. "I'm not going to be offended by honesty."
"But..."
"Just say it. I stink at singing." It was her turn to smirk. It was fun to watch him squirm.
Tien ruffled his hair with a sigh, then laughed.
"Ok, ok. Fine. You suck."
"There you go. Was that so-"
"I think that might be among the worst I've ever heard, and I've heard a LOT of drunks here. Sweet merciful godess, my ears feel like they're bleeding!" Despite his words, his grin was growing. "And I think you traumatized poor Pierre-Jean. Just look at his face!"
They both looked at the barkeep, who was slowly returning to the land of the living. They looked back at each other. Soon, they were both laughing so hard, it left them gasping for air.

By the time they recovered, Pierre had graciously excused himself to the other end of the bar and served himself a stiff drink.
"What I said seriously didn't bother you?" Tien wiped the last tears away from his eyes.
"Nah. I've heard worse. No need to walk on eggshells around me. Brutal honesty! Tell me I've gained weight! Diss my outfit! There isn't anything you can throw at me that I can't handle!" She threw back the contents of her glass and coughed a little. "Wrong... tube....."
Tien patted her back until she stopped coughing.
"Alright. You want the brutal truth?"
"Hit me." Harue nodded confidently.

"I really want to kiss you right now."
"Huh?" She stared at him. He wasn't laughing anymore, rather he was staring at her, quite intently.
"Can I?"
".....i-if we're being brutally honest, if you kiss me, I'll probably assault you later. Maybe break some furniture and end up hurting you."
"Hmm." His eyes crinkled in amusement. "I bet I can handle anything you throw at me, too."
Suddenly she was kissing him, a messy, sloppy kiss that nonetheless left him breathless with its intensity. He would have slipped off his barstool, if her fingers weren't already digging into his back.

Soon enough, they were scrambling out the door.

I most definitely endorse more Micropiece short stories. I may attempt one myself. Possibly, though I’m not sure what.

EB squirmed in his seat, tilting his head at the giant screen ahead of him. Some old romantic movie was playing, but it wasn't very interesting.

"Why can't they just tell each other how they feel?" He complained out loud.

A shiver suddenly ran up his spine. He thought he felt Bea glaring at him, but when he glanced at her, her attention was on the movie, stuffing popcorn with furious gusto.

He wasn't quite sure why Kage had pushed them so hard to watch this thing together. Heck, he wasn't sure how or why the man had a small private movie theater in his house, or why they were sitting in a plush love seat near the front. It was hard *not* to sit in it without brushing against her in some way. He was painfully aware that they were alone in the theater. While Bea didn't seem all that into the movie either, sometimes she would emit a little frustrated sigh or grumble at it under her breath. Everytime he tried to relax, their arms or legs would brush, ever so slightly. He felt his face flush at the thought, and he squirmed again, trying to make himself as small as possible in his corner of the couch. It'd probably be easier if he moved to another seat, but...

He didn't mind the contact. He wouldn't even object to closer contact, but surely she'd punch him for that. Or he'd get another bullet to the head. She still had her gun nearby, just in case.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He wasn't sure exactly when or how it had happened, but he was touching Bea, and she wasn't objecting. His bare skin rubbed against hers slowly and softly.
"It's ok." She whispered calmly, way more calm than he felt. Her fingertips brushed against him, sending his heart racing.
"You sure?" He barely managed to gasp, trembling.
"Yes." She squeezed him tightly. "Are you?"
"..." Although his mind was unable to form a coherent thought anymore, a suddenly calm washed over him as he pressed against her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, EB stood at the kitchen, staring into space while an eggless pancake burned in his skillet. Kage entered in his bat-print pajamas and bathrobe. Calmly, he put his coffee mug down and turned off the stove. He chuckled at EB's face, who still hadn't entirely noticed him yet. So Kage's plan HAD worked, after all. He knew it was only a matter of time.
"So, how did it go last night?" He teased lightly, sure that he already knew the answer.

"Hmm?" EB blinked lazily, so relaxed that he barely stood straight.

Surely, with the most romantic movie of all time, in the dim lighting with the subtle insense, and the cushy, soft loveseat they had-

EB finally replied, a big grin on his face.
"We held hands."

I don’t remember reading any of this before. I like though. Nice and sweet and fitting for EB and Bea.

AND THEN THEY - *gets shot*

Hehe. That happens later, after the confession.

Or maybe when EB comes back from our current world saving escapade.