Tragedy

"H-How could this be possible?" 

I wanted to deny the reality in front of me. My legs felt weak. I wanted to run away from this, but I was paralyzed in place, as still as a stone statue. 

Despite my obvious distress, Creator appeared unfazed as he approached the woman standing before us. With a friendly smile, he extended his hand for a handshake and greeted her. 

"Hey, Finnoula, how are you doing?" 

Finnoula expressed her gratitude to Dylan, acknowledging that he had made the effort to attend her son's wedding despite his demanding schedule. She said, "I'm fine, Mr. Dylan. But I'm delighted that you could spare your time here for my son's wedding despite having a busy schedule." 

With a hearty laugh, the Creator, or rather Mr. Dylan, downplayed his commitment, replying, "Oh no, it's nothing. It's your son's wedding, after all. How could I possibly miss it?" 

Finnoula continued to emphasize her appreciation, recognizing the demands of his business affairs, and said, "Don't make it a little issue. I know you remain very busy due to your company affairs. That's why I'm so grateful that you could take your time out for this event." 

With a reassuring tone, Dylan repeated, "As I said, don't stress over it. It's nothing." 

As Finnoula continued to converse with Dylan, her attention turned towards me, a bewildered expression clouding her features. She inquired, "I see. And you are Mr....?" Her confusion was evident as she looked at me, who had still not gotten over what he was seeing. I couldn't shake off the immense pain that welled up within me. Never in my life had I thought that such a thing would ever happen. It hurts bad...so bad to see your own family not recognizing you, not remembering you, as though you were a stranger who had never existed in their life. 

I wanted to say something to her...something that only she and I knew, but words refused to come out of my mouth. I tried to speak, slightly parting my lips, but it felt as if my vocal cords had tightened, making it nearly impossible to express myself. 

Dylan quickly stepped in to bridge the awkward silence, introducing us both. He gestured towards her and said, "Ah yes! I haven't introduced you two yet. Aerin, meet Finnoula, my neighbor," then he pointed in my direction, adding, "And Finnoula, meet Aerin, my nephew." 

In an attempt to ease the tension and explain my reserved demeanor, Dylan reassured Finnoula, "Ah, don't worry. He's just a bit shy, that's why he isn't talking much. He typically avoids crowded places, but I convinced him to join us today. It's been a while since he's been in such a situation. Please don't mind his behavior; he'll be fine in some time." 

"Is that so?" She looked at me from head to toe and offered a compliment, saying, "You're quite handsome, you know. I bet you'd be quite the hit with the girls at parties. By the way, I'm Finnoula Vinterholm, Justin's mother and Mr. Dylan's neighbor." She extended her hand for a handshake. 

I stammered in response, still grappling with the disbelief that shrouded my eyes. I managed to stretch out my hand, replying, "Ah... Yes, I've heard that before." At this point, I was so preoccupied with my own inner turmoil that I hardly paid attention to the apparent memory manipulation happening right before my eyes. 

'Justin's mother?' I thought, my mind reeling. She was supposed to be my... What did this mean? Was this 'Justin' occupying the place that should have been mine? 

"Justin would be overjoyed to see you both here. He specifically requested your presence, Mr. Dylan. Since this is such a rare occasion, I believe you should have a chat with—Oh, there he is! Justin, could you come over here for a moment?" 

Finnoula directed her hand towards a dark-haired young man who was engrossed in conversation with someone nearby. 

In response to her call, the young man turned his head and gazed in our direction. His raven-black hair softly swayed as he recognized the voice that had called him. He politely excused himself from the group he was engaged with and strolled over in our direction. As he approached, his deep, ebony eyes surveyed each member of the group. 

With a gentle tone, he inquired, "Yeah, Mom, what's up?" She introduced us with a gesture, saying, "Meet Mr. Dylan and his nephew, Aerin." 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dylan. How are you doing?" Justin asked enthusiastically. 

"Haha… I'm doing well, Justin. And congratulations on your wedding." 

Justin expressed his gratitude, saying, "Ah, thank you very much. And you must be Aerin, right? It's nice to meet you." 

With a slight hesitation, I replied, "Y-Yeah. Nice to meet you too." 

Dylan playfully nudged Justin, a mischievous grin on his face, and asked with a wink, "So, how's the bride, huh?" Justin turned red and blushed from embarrassment and shook his head. 

"She's beautiful," In a hushed tone, he admitted. 

Finnoula jumped in, coming to Justin's defense, saying, "Oh, come on now. Don't tease him too much." 

And I? I observed their interaction with a detached sense of despair. I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of devastation and helplessness. It was as if the entire world had collapsed around me. My own mother didn't know me. This realization left me devastated, and I couldn't help but wonder if my sister and father, too, would fail to recognize me. I had never felt so utterly powerless in my entire life. 

My voice quivered as I spoke, breaking the silence with more than just polite greetings. All three of them turned their attention to me as I continued, "E-Everyone, please excuse Uncle and me for a moment. I need to talk to him." 

As soon as I said that, without waiting for their responses, I took his arm and led him away to a quieter spot. But Unbeknownst to me, my mother's gaze lingered in the direction I went off for some time, her reasons known only to her. 

*** 

"Mom? Did something happen?" Justin asked, seeing her lingering gaze toward the direction Aerin went. 

"Justin, have we ever met him?" she asked, confused as to why she was suddenly feeling nostalgia seeing him. 

"Why? What happened? You know him?" He asked her. 

"No. It's just... It's just I felt he seemed somewhat familiar...No. I am sure I have seen somewhere, but I couldn't remember from where." She said, trying her best to remember him. 

"You probably might have met him somewhere during your job or just as a passerby. You don't have to try so hard to remember him," he said with a frown slowly appearing on his face. 

"No, it isn't just that. I feel like I have had a very close connection with him before. He also seemed petrified for some reason seeing me. But where have I—" 

"Hey, what are you both discussing? Tell me, too." Suddenly, a beautiful woman in her thirties approached the two of them as they were talking. 

"Nothing important, sis'" 

"Whatever, oh yeah, Dad is calling both and you." 

"Why?" Finnoula tilted her head as she asked her daughter. 

"Dunno, but he asked you to come fast." 

"Come on, let's go mom. I'm sure you'll remember him in due time." 

"Yeah, I hope you're right." She gave one last look in the direction he went off to before walking and slightly looking in the direction of Justin. 'Because I really feel like I have some sort of deep connection with him, maybe even stronger than Justin, l-like he is my...son.' 

*** 

As we reached the secluded location, my expression grew icy. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, frustration and confusion evident in my tone. 

However, he remained unperturbed. He simply replied, "Nothing. I did tell you earlier that I intended to make you change your own decision, right? Well, I'm simply following through on that promise." 

I interrupted him, my frustration mounting. "You know I'm not asking about that." 

"Fine." He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and continued, "To be honest with you, I had already planned to make you my source of entertainment long before your death. But I knew you would never agree to it. So, when your family and your love died, I claimed their souls, wiped their memories, and brought them here. There was one crucial alteration, though. Instead of having you as their 'part' of the family, I created another soul to fill that role. I thought—" 

I scoffed, cutting him off. "So, you thought that I'd suddenly be grateful by reuniting me with them and agree to your plan? Or perhaps you thought I'd feel betrayed by seeing Justin, and that would sway me. Don't for a second think this will work on me. While I am deeply shocked by all of this, it doesn't mean I'm changing my decision. I've lived my life and endured my share of pain. I have no desire to go through something like that again. More than anything, I refuse to let my life be some pawn of some God. You can't change my mind." 

"Yes, you're right about that. But when did I ever say that was all?" He retorted, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "You still haven't witnessed the climax. And when you do, you would beg me yourself to become my plaything." 

My confusion deepened as I started to ask, "Wait, what do you—" 

But he cut me off with a devilish grin, saying, "Come on, where's the fun in explaining when you can witness it firsthand? Let's go. The ceremony will begin soon." 

For some inexplicable reason, his smile provoked an intense feeling of irritation within me. What did he want to reveal that could alter my stance so drastically that I'd beg him? Could it be...? 

N—No, I shook my head, trying to dismiss the disturbing thought. Surely, he wouldn't go to such lengths to make me agree, would he? 

*** 

Following our conversation, events unfolded swiftly. It appeared that we were running quite late for the wedding, as the ceremony commenced shortly after our arrival. Guests settled in their seats, and I found my own place among them. 

As the ceremony progressed, I noticed my sister and father chatting and laughing in the distance with Justin and my mother. Witnessing this heartwarming scene of a united family, filled with laughter and warmth, brought back the deep-seated desire I had harbored since my difficult childhood — the longing for a place in my family similar to Justin's. I knew that if I had witnessed such a scene during my childhood, I would have gone to great lengths to replace a stranger in the place that should have been mine. 

But now? Present circumstances made me question whether forcing my way back into that family would be good, even if I had once been a part of it. I couldn't ignore the fact that some things were best left in the past. 

Don't mistake my sentiments for a lack of desire to be with them; quite the contrary, I genuinely do wish for that, but sometimes, you have to let go, and it's been a harsh lesson for me. It's a lesson that life has taught me the hard way. 

The emotions swirling within me were a blend of bittersweet feelings, bitter because I couldn't be a part of the scene unfolding in front of me, that someone else had assumed the role that was rightfully mine. Yet, there was also sweetness in knowing that they were well, even if I watched from afar, and that this stranger was taking good care of them in my stead. 

It's strange how I could feel such contradictory emotions simultaneously inside me, but they were there, undeniable and inexplicable. 

When I first laid eyes on my mother, I just wanted to hug her so tightly right then and there. I longed to feel the warmth and affection of a loved one once again. However, I knew he wouldn't allow it. Perhaps that might be part of the reason why he brought me here. To witness how my dear ones were living their lives in this world while I remained a mere spectator, an outsider to it all— 

My inner thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the bride. As I glanced around, I noticed the priest presiding over the ceremony already on the platform, and Justin, dressed in a sharp black and white three-piece suit, stood there, waiting for the bride. My sister was beside the platform, holding a box containing two wedding rings. The guests rose to their feet, turning to look behind them. I followed suit, turning my head to catch a glimpse of the bride. 

But when I saw her, my heart skipped a beat, and I froze with my eyes wide open. 

Her beautiful and almost heavenly smile, her deep hazel eyes, her subtle rose-petal pink lips arching upwards, her blonde-silvery hair, and her oval face were something that was etched in my memory. I could never forget them even if years passed. Because it was her, the one who had given me a semblance of sanity before she left me, or rather...before I left her. 

"Aha." I couldn't help but let out a hollow chuckle, and I turned my head slightly to glance at the orchestrator of this elaborate scenario. He pretended to be oblivious, but I was certain he was relishing the turmoil of thoughts inside my mind. I redirected my gaze back to the girl in the stunning white wedding gown and a white tiara gracing her head. 

As she slowly approached the platform, her radiant smile was directed at Justin, and she appeared genuinely thrilled. 

'I see.' Was this what he was referring to earlier? Somehow, I doubt it. Somehow, I have this nagging feeling that there was more to this story, something he had yet to reveal. 

While I observed the girl making her way to the platform, my gaze shifted to her father, who wasn't the same as in my own world. 

'At least he did one thing good by changing her father; otherwise, even I don't know how I would have handled it. I probably might have tried to kill him right here.' A fleeting surge of anger coursed through me as I entertained these thoughts, but I quickly suppressed it. 

Shaking off those emotions, I turned my gaze towards the stage, where the priest was now announcing the commencement of the ceremony. Bitterness lingered in my heart as I watched it unfold. 

"Justin Vinterholm and Freyja Yulark, have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?" 

"I have." (X2) 

"Are you prepared to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live as you follow the path of Marriage?" 

"I am." (X2) 

"Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?" 

"I am." (X2) 

Both of them responded to the consent with joyful smiles exchanged between them. 

I couldn't help but reflect on how much I had yearned for a moment like this in my own life. If only I could turn back time, I would have done everything in my power to prevent this scene from ever taking place. It should have been me, not him. 

A profound sense of powerlessness washed over me, the weight of being unable to alter the course of events that were unfolding right before my eyes. Alongside that, a sharp, intense pain gripped my heart as I bore witness to my love's happiness with someone else. 

"Justin Vinterholm, do you take Freyja Yulark for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" 

"I do." 

"Freyja Yulark, do you take Justin Vinterholm for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" 

"I do." 

"Now, you may kiss the bride." The priest said, looking at the groom. 

Both looked at each other's eyes and slowly advanced their faces towards each other. As they got closer, they could feel each other's breath, and I could feel my breath stopping. 

Thus, they kissed each other. 

The tower bell rang loudly. 

*DONG* 

*DONG* 

Guests rose from their seats, their faces radiant with smiles, as cheers filled the air for the newlyweds. Some even tossed roses in celebration, bestowing their blessings upon the happy couple. The entire atmosphere was infused with joy and merriment, and even that divine trickster beside me appeared to be relishing the festivities. 

But I? I felt the feeling of being disconnected from the celebrations around me as if they were in a separate, desolate world. I couldn't focus on anything. I felt no happiness because there was no happiness to be found. I was consumed by a ceaseless sorrow and inner turmoil gnawing at my heart, ripping me apart from the inside. My mind went shutdown mode, overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions and unable to comprehend or process the emotions or events unfurling before me. 

However, in the midst of this emotional numbness, I was abruptly jolted back to reality by the words of the enigmatic being beside me. 

"Don't space out. Burn this sight in your memory." 

I gritted my teeth as I listened to him. I could no longer bear to remain in this place. Watching the celebration had turned into a torment. I had to escape, and I couldn't wait any longer. With resolve, I got up and started making my way towards the door. I didn't want to spend another second in this excruciating situation. 

But then, something strange occurred. Suddenly, I stopped. 

I attempted to move my arms and legs, pushing against this unseen force, but it was futile. Desperation drove me to try various actions: turning my head, attempting to vocalize my thoughts, anything to break free from this binding sensation. Every attempt to exert control was met with failure. The only parts of me I could still command were my facial muscles and my eyes. 

It wasn't that I had stopped. It was something totally different; like— yeah, it felt more like I was being stopped. I knew in an instant whose work this was. 

Under the influence of this mysterious force, my body turned involuntarily, and I found myself walking back in the direction from which I had come. I had no control over my actions, and it felt as though I was being led against my will. 

*** 

As Aerin walked back under the influence of this unseen force, his eyes sought answers from the Creator. However, instead of answers, all he found was a faint, subtle smile on the Creator's face, with his eyes arching upwards in an eerie expression. 

Aerin's face drained of color as he was overwhelmed by a sense of dread. It was a possibility he had considered before, but at that time, he had brushed it off as a ridiculous possibility. Now that it was unfolding before his eyes, he couldn't help but feel the terror welling up inside him. 

His mind raced like never before, exploring every possible way to avoid this impending scenario. However, as he closed the distance between himself and the platform, he realized that no matter how much he thought in those fleeting seconds, no other options presented themselves. He saw no way out of this. 

'No, no, no...Please no! This is madness!' he prayed desperately. However, he understood that no amount of prayer or pleading could halt the inexorable progression toward the stage. 

In a nightmarish state, Aerin's uncontrolled muscles pushed aside the joyful guests, creating a path toward Freyja and Justin. He approached them, his face twisted with terror. 

His inner voice cried out in desperation, 'NOOOOO! STOPPP ITT!!' 

His hand extended and closed around Freyja's neck in an instant, hoisting her into the air. 

Aerin's sudden and aggressive action instantly transformed the joyous celebration into a chaotic nightmare. All hell broke loose after that. 

Justin's previous radiant smile contorted into one of extreme fury and anger. He immediately lunged at Aerin, grabbing his arm and attempting to release Freyja forcefully. 

"You bastard, what the hell are you doing? Let go of her RIGHT NOW!!" 

Chaos erupted as a wave of people rushed towards the stage, eager to assist Justin, while some other smart people quickly dialed the police for help. 

"YOU FUCKER!!! GET OFF HER!" 

"YOU DARE TO LAY HAND ON HER!!" 

"CUT OFF HIS HAND! SOMEONE BRING ME A CHAINSAW!!" 

"MOTHERFUCKER YOU WON'T GET OUT OF THIS ALIVE!" 

"BASTARD TODAY YOU'LL DIE HERE!!" 

"HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON JUSTIN'S WIFE!!" 

The crowd unleashed a torrent of threats and curses and even went as far as uttering words of assassination while they desperately attempted to pry Aerin's arm from Freyja's neck. Their efforts, however, were in vain as they couldn't budge even an inch of his seemingly immovable arm. It was as if his arm was made of solid lead. 

Finnoula, filled with worry, rushed to her son's side, determined to assist him in removing the seemingly crazed man that Dylan had brought into their celebration from Freyja. 

Only a few seconds had passed since this ordeal began, and under normal circumstances, Aerin's arm should have long been rendered incapable of maintaining its grip. People continued their fruitless efforts to release Freyja, but the unyielding grip of Aerin's hand defied their attempts. 

And fruitless it would be because the Creator was here with clear objectives, and he didn't want any obstructions by mere humans in his plan. 

As tears welled up in Aerin's eyes, he bore witness to the woman he loved, the one who had captured his heart, slowly slipping away through his grasp. 

Given his rigorous physical fitness training from childhood, his strength was beyond that of an ordinary human. This made the situation even more dangerous for Freyja. 

She resisted, but his grip on her throat held firm. His unyielding grip on Freyja's throat caused her to squirm and writhe in a desperate attempt to break free. But the more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. She clawed at his arm, digging her nails into his skin in futile efforts. 

"...Ack...argh...please..." Tears welled up in Freyja's eyes as she pleaded, her voice filled with despair, realizing that there was nothing she could do to help herself except to pray. 

Witnessing her in such a pitiful and vulnerable state, Aerin's own tears began to flow. The girl he had always wanted to protect, the one who had offered him some respite from the cruel world, was the very person he had once killed and was now on the verge of doing it the second time. 

Amid the pandemonium, Aerin regained control of his head and voice. However, there were only a few words he could muster for the girl before him. 

"S-Sorry...sorry... I'm sorry... it's all my fault... I'm sorry... I'll p-pay for everything...I s-shouldn't have come into your life... I'm... I'm sorry." 

Just then, Aerin heard Freyja's voice, as if...as if she were whispering to him. He gazed up at her face, and his unfocused vision gradually focused as he almost heard her words: 

"Argh...A-Aerin, I-I'll never stop loving you, e-even...even when everything...ack...else falls a-apart." 

His red eyes, filled with tears, widened as he listened to her, and he watched her with a bittersweet small smile and warmth in her eyes as she placed her hand on his face. 

"P-Please... don't die on me this time...I s-swear I'll do everything to save you...j-just...just you wait...e-everything will be fine..." 

Aerin's gaze then shifted to the Creator, who stood at a distance from the stage, silently observing the chaos from afar. The Creator wore a wide, malevolent grin plastered on his face as if he held all the answers to Aerin's torment. 

"P-Please...stop this madness...I...I beg you...p-please...I can't handle this any longer... I-I'll do anything," He pleaded as Freyja's lips and skin slowly started taking on a bluish tint due to Hypoxia1. 

The Creator's initial grin slowly faded into an emotionless expression as he sent a voice transmission directly into Aerin's mind. 

[Then agree to become my source of entertainment, my plaything, and my toy for as long as I desire.] 

"I accept it...I accept everything, dammit...please just let her go...I fucking accept it." His once beautiful face was now contorted with despair and was a mess as he watched her life slipping away. 

The Creator's grin returned back as he uttered, "Okay." 

*SNAP* 

The entire hall fell into a haunting silence as Aerin witnessed Freyja's neck snap in one slow, agonizing motion. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as his breath caught in his throat for a moment. His once-tight, unrestrained grip gradually loosened, allowing Freyja's lifeless body to fall to the ground like a fragile, broken doll. 

In that moment, she appeared like an ethereal white angel, her life extinguished yet untouched by the world's corruption as if descending from grace into the depths of sorrow and darkness. 

He collapsed to his knees. The world around them seemed to disintegrate, morphing into an oppressive void devoid of the people who had been present just moments ago. Silence and darkness enveloped them, and the vibrant scene that had once been faded into nothingness. 

Devastation was far too short of a word to express the tempest of emotions raging within him. What Aerin was experiencing at that moment defied any simple description. 

His trembling hand, desperate and numb, reached out, yearning to make contact with Freyja's lifeless form. He wished to hold her, to mend the irreversible tragedy that had unfolded before his eyes, to turn back time and rewrite the cruel fate that had befallen them. Yet, the frigid grip of reality denied him any such respite. 

"Hey, wake up...I said wake up," he pleaded, but she remained unresponsive. "You can't die on me a second time... it's unfair...please wake up," He spoke with an empty, hollow voice, devoid of tears, like a mere husk of his former self. 

"I said wake up, dammit..." he whispered as he clenched his fists and struck the ground beside her in anguish. 

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" His cries echoed through the desolation as tears poured from his eyes like an endless waterfall with no signs of stopping. He had lost all sense of time, unaware of how long he had been there, but the tears didn't stop. 

"I'm sorry. It all happened because of me. I am sorry...Freyja." 

After some time had passed, perhaps hours, he heard the sound of footsteps drawing near. With a sluggish, almost mechanical turn of his head, his eyes tracked the source of the sound, and he saw the one who caused all this, in his original attire, advancing towards him with measured steps. 

He pushed himself up from his knees, his movements slow and laborious, his body heavy with despair. He stumbled toward the approaching figure, dragging his existence along. As he drew nearer, his strength gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, his voice pleading in desperation. 

"P-Please, I'll do a-anything...you just name it —anything... I'm also ready to b-become your puppet, your toy, or whatever you want...b-but please s-save her...I won't be able to l-live knowing she had d-died because of me again...please...I beg of you...s-save...save her." 

His trembling hands clutched at the robe, his grip unrelenting as he begged incessantly. At this moment, he cared little for his disheveled appearance or how pitiful he must have appeared. All that mattered was his earnest, almost begging plea to the entity before him, imploring for salvation, even though, in actuality, he was the one responsible for Freyja's death. 

But deep down, he began to realize the futility of his actions. What could he really hope to achieve? To confront a god in anger? It sounded absurd. No matter how powerful he might become, he understood that his strength would have no influence over this divine entity. He knew that his family and the love he held dear would remain under god's control until he reached a level of power capable of challenging his rule. 

The last sliver of hope was rooted in the belief that when he attained that level of power, he could safeguard his beloved and, perhaps, just perhaps, even exact vengeance on the deity. 

So now, after having convinced the god, he would have to go on a rapid journey to become strong as fast as possible, no matter how much time it may take him. He understood that absolute power was required to fulfill his most cherished desires, including confronting and defeating that fucker of a god who stood before him. 

"Okay, okay, fine," The Creator conceded, his tone shifting. "To be honest, I just wanted to see your reaction. As I am a benevolent god, I'll spare her and your family. Just get off my legs... it's rather creepy." 

"Thank you...thank you very much." 

With a subtle snap of his fingers, the world around them shifted. The Creator performed a miraculous feat, resurrecting Freyja, undoing time, and altering the memories of everyone except Aerin as if everything had unfolded perfectly. The ceremony concluded with joy and happiness. 

Aerin observed the events unfold in slow motion. He witnessed time rewinding, Freyja coming back to life, and the joyful union of Freyja and Justin. They came together like characters in a fairy tale script. And all Aerin could do was stand in the shadows, a silent observer of this fairy tale. 

Yet, he couldn't ignore the truth that a part of him resided within her, in the depths no one could ever get to. So that no matter how much time may pass or how many lives they may live, he would continue to live in her, just as she would do within him. 

The Creator snapped his fingers for the second time, and the world transformed. Aerin silently watched Freyja for the last time before preparing to bid his farewell, knowing that he might never see her again. 

He whispered, his heart heavy with the finality of the moment. 

"Goodbye."

***

5.1k words. Gosh!!! That's why my published chapters are so late...

This word frequency probably will not be done once I go past the prologue.

Please report any mistakes or errors you might find in the grammer or if a paragraph has been repeated twice.

Btw, one last chapter remaining for the Prologue...