The cycle of Evil

Everytime i wake up i can feel it again—the icy grip of the water around me, tightening, suffocating.

Every time I wake, it's always the same. This endless loop, a cruel mockery of my life.

The moment of consciousness is brief, just enough to realize where I am, just enough to taste the iron in the water.

Just enough to feel my lungs filled with this thick saline blood water, red and warm, a sickening mix of blood and sea.

Each breath is a desperate struggle, a futile attempt to gulp down air, but all I get is more water, more blood.

The pain in my chest is unbearable, a constant pressure building, like my ribs are about to crack and give way.

My mind has become a foggy haze, each cycle blurring the lines between reality and nightmare.

It's like a dense cloud, slowly consuming my thoughts, my memories.

I can't even remember how I got here anymore.

All I know is the pain, the suffocation, and the voices.

Those voices—they are the worst part. At first, they were distant, like whispers carried on the wind.

But with each cycle, they grow louder, more piercing. They fill my ears with a maddening intensity, making them bleed.

The voices are not human; they are distorted, twisted. They echo through my mind, a cacophony of screams and laughter, mocking my every attempt to break free.

I can feel my sanity slipping away with each shriek, each haunting laugh.

My vision is failing too.

The water is dark, murky, but there are moments when I can see flashes of light, distorted images of faces, maybe my own, twisted in agony.

Every attempt to swim, to break the surface, is met with the same resistance, the same crushing weight pulling me back down, deeper into this abyss. My limbs are heavy, numb.

My movements are slow, like I'm trapped in thick sludge.

I can't escape.

There's no end to this torment. Each time I wake, it's a new cycle of drowning, of choking on this bloody water. Each time, the voices grow louder, more insistent, eroding my will to fight, to live. I can feel myself fading, becoming one with the water, with the voices.

I'm losing myself, bit by bit, piece by piece, until there will be nothing left but the water, the blood, and the endless, suffocating darkness.

I just want this to end.

N̸̜͔̊́̈́͒̽̆o̵͇͎͑̒̍̕ͅt̷͓̿̄̈́̔͐̀̈́̉̌̾̽̉̿̆͠ ̶̙̤͎̫̤͚̰̹̓́̓̌͊͑͜͠͠ͅÿ̶̡̘̩̠͚͇͔̮͎̟͉̆͆͌̂̽͊̀̕ȩ̴̨̩̼̘͍͇̗̭̮͖͖͕̉̿̉̔̈̅̏̽̌̀̈́́͝ẗ̵̨̲̼̲̙͉͙̝̮̣̣̥͉̘͇̋̓̊̏̀͂͆̔

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{ 3rd Person Pov }

Life was proceeding as usual for every being in the cardinal however.

In the heart of a tempestuous night, a dark force stirred, birthed from the convergence of ambient power and malevolence.

Charybdis,as was the name it was granted by the humans that were yet to meet it , the embodiment of humanity's darkest evils, emerged into the world.

Her existence was a direct consequence of the Voice of the World's interference, a cosmic anomaly that twisted fate itself. She was not merely born; she was unleashed.

Charybdis's form, colossal and monstrous, reflected the chaos within her being. Scales of deep blue and obsidian covered her Serpentine-Draconic body, and her eyes glowed with a malevolent crimson light.

She was an unexpected daughter of the mighty Storm Dragon, an avatar of raw destructive force, but her nature was corrupted, driven by an insatiable hunger for destruction and chaos.

Brought about by the whims of a will that betrayed its Creator.

As the moment of convergence happened.

Across the land, humans felt an inexplicable dread.

In villages and cities, people awoke in the dead of night, hearts pounding with an unnamed fear, animals shrieked and the winds roared in welcome.

Amidst all this , It was as if the air itself had thickened with foreboding.

Elders whispered of ancient prophecies, and priests offered fervent prayers to the gods, seeking protection from the unseen terror.

Yet, none could have predicted the true nature of the calamity that was about to befall them.

Far from the turmoil, the world's administrators, beings of immense power and wisdom, each sensed the shift in the world's balance from their isolated sanctuaries.

One resided in an icy castle, its walls glistening with frost. From this frozen fortress, the red haired deamon gazed into the swirling blizzard outside, eyes narrowing as they felt the unnatural disturbance.

In a labyrinthine domain, a golden fairy moved through the endless corridors, her expression growing more serious even if for a few minutes.

The labyrinth's walls echoed with the whispers of distress among the spirits.

Meanwhile, in a lavish bed within a palace of opulence, the Fallen one stirred awake from his constant slumber.

Draped in silks and surrounded by luxury, he nonetheless felt the same ominous presence.

Their usually serene countenance darkened as they contemplated the Voice of the World's capricious interference.

" Hah ,This is beyond my control," the red haired deamon chuckled to himself yet his voice voice heavy with the weight of uncertainty. "The Voice of the World has set these events into motion what does it wish to achievenow ?."

In the labyrinth, the fairy quickly discarded the presence to the back of her mind and went back to her usual demeanor playing around with the spirits.

In the opulent palace, the third administrator sighed, his fingers tracing patterns on the silk sheets.

"The balance has been disrupted in a way I have not seen since Veldanava's fall.What will this change bring ?"

And so, the world braced for the onslaught.

Charybdis, mindless and relentless, began her rampage.

She tore through the countryside, leaving a path of devastation in her wake.

Forests were uprooted, rivers diverted, and mountains reduced to mounds as she passed.

Villages were obliterated, their inhabitants scattered like leaves in a storm.

Her roars echoed across the land, a harbinger of doom that sent even the bravest warriors fleeing in terror.

The armies that stood against her were no match for her fury.

Spears and arrows shattered against her scales, and the strongest magics only seemed to anger her further.

Cities fortified with walls and magical barriers crumbled before her onslaught.

The land itself seemed to rebel in her presence, as if acknowledging her as its new, albeit malevolent, mistress.

In the midst of this chaos, hope flickered dimly. The Demon with his vast knowledge and power, began to devise a plan.

He knew that to confront Charybdis directly would be folly; because of the unpredictable nature of Voice of the world instead, he sought a way to quell the storm within her, to restore the balance that the Voice of the World had so recklessly disturbed.

But for now, Charybdis's reign of terror continued unabated.

She was the embodiment of humanity's darkest impulses, a pseudo True Dragon whose very existence was a testament to the fragility of order in the face of primal chaos.

And as the world quaked under her wrath, it became clear that this was only the beginning of a long and harrowing struggle.

One that could only end in two ways.

One if someone put her to death or the other if the soul trapped in its own mind and gain control.

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Ah well how was this one ?