Sin therapy

Paper. Paper floors, paper doors, paper ceilings, paper suns and paper skies.

Everywhere I looked there was paper.

Lined paper to be specific.

Written upon this paper was three words. Endlessly repeated throughout this reality.

"Who are you?"

I smiled.

The answer to this question was simple.

"I am the fucking goat! I am the man who never gave a fuck! I am the one who rules worlds!"

The words were replaced by a single letter

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X

Try again.

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I scratched my head. How does one even get being themselves wrong? It's not like existing is some sort of skill or anything. You just do it.

~let's try a more simple answer this time~

"I'm Greg."

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X

Try again.

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"Okay this is unreasonable. How exactly do you expect me to answer that question?"

__________________________

X

Try again. Further failure will result in extended course work

__________________________

"Course work! Last I checked there hasn't even been a class on this. And the last one wasn't even me aswerint dumbass! Here's my answer now! I'm me."

__________________________

X

Selecting course work.

.

.

.

......…..

Course work selected: Sin therapy.

__________________________

A Flame ignited in the paper world.

It burned far off into the distance.

~Maybe whatever machine is operating this place is malfunctioning?~

I never got the answer to that question.

The flame flickered and next thing I knew. I was immersed in a tornado of ash.

🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐

Without a vessel I gazed. I observed a pure white canvas that seemed to change shades with every moment.

"You... Are a sinner."

And suddenly in just an instant.

That canvas was painted.

.:.:.:..:..:.

I walked through an empty city street.

Everyone had left to see a parade. I always organised a parade when I conquered a new nation.

Change can be scary. And I found that a celebration can help people along.

There was also the added side benefit that with everyone absent It would be easy to spot any spy's or would be assassins.

I had already dodged one attempt. So I could only expect another one today.

Meaning there was still reason to worry

But the streets were not as empty this time as I expected them to be.

Laying on the ground was a young boy. Each of his individual rib bones were visible and his face was gaunt.

It was clear that he had been starved.

The boy looked at me. His eyes were full of desperation.

"Sir."

I speed walked by.

A starving man could easily be tempted into murder.

I couldn't take the risk.

.:.:.:.:.

The next day. I sat on my phone scrolling through the news.

I found some information there that could only be described as unsettling.

The new government officials had found a boy on the street. Starved and dead.

.:.:.:.:.:.

As a mural of that deed was written words were inscribed upon the top.

"Murderer."

Then as quickly as the mural appeared it vanished.

And a new one was once more drawn.

.:.:.:.:.:.

We'd been on the drive for weeks.

We seemed to be constantly moving with no goal in mind.

Or I guesse one could say we had a goal of some kind.

The goal was to run away.

From what you ask?

Quite simple. We were running away from the place where she was hurt.

Sarah was her name. And I was her friend.

Last evening I saw her in the motel with a look of all consuming grief on her face. I was overcome with the urge to hold her.

But I couldn't.

Because if I did. She would surely know I love her.

I opened the door to her room.

And well. I'm sure you know the rest.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Again that horrid mural was made.

And written as if it was some kind of cursed water mark was the word.

Murderer.

Again the mural vanished.

Once more I was in a white emptiness. No. An almost empty white emptiness.

Written on the whiteness were the words.

"How about something more recent?"

I could only respond reasonably.

"I'll fucking kill you!!!!!!" I screamed

"Murderer."

.:.:.:.:.:.

I saw no series of moving pictures this time. Instead suspended before me was an image of a pale woman and three children.

"You could have made them so happy."

It showed me nothing more than that.

That was all it needed.

Something shattered.

~Born by scum. Raised by scum. It shouldn't come as a surprise to me that I also am scum.~

🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐🐖🐐

I was in the void.

I existed with just a single goal. To walk towards nothing.

I had known others who had reached it by swinging by a rope. But I didn't have that. So I would just have to walk and rely on my iron grit.

I'm sure I would reach it. After all that's what fate commands. I deserved nothing. It was my birthright. and people always got what they deserved.

I was a good person. And as I good person I can always see the most moral way to go about things.

I was a massive proprietor of pain. My every action. My every breath. Every single thing I did hurt another.

Through this I truly understood the void I walked in. It was a representation of my goodness. Every bit of light was my morality.

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

Ii tripped on a small uneven piece of void that I didn't even know was there..

But I could not bare the effort to stand. I elected to just lay there and crawl forwards on my hands and knees.

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

I grinned. Finally. No matter how many commands I sent. My body no longer moved.

I could feel the nothingness encroaching my eyes grew heavy. It was the end.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

And next thing I knew I saw the moon. Floating there right above me. Shining brilliantly.

"Why would you wish for death?" The moon asked.

"Because I'm evil. I only spread pain to those around me."

For an instant the moon flickered to a woman's face.

"No. I cannot abide by this end. I curse thee. With the curse of the werepig!"