Chapter 9

(𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬)
This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes such as Twisted Religious aspects, Cult indoctrination , Gore, Psychological Horror and Death.

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The selfishness and greediness of humanity is infinite — their greed is so gluttonous to the point that it hollows the world to feed itself.

There is no end to how far they will crawl, scratch, or slaughter to satiate their thirst, devour what they covet, draw blood for the sake of vengeance.

That’s what Yzrivis had observed from all of his years watching over humans.

You were no exception, because you were dripping with disdain for those who kill in the name of religion and devotion, yet sharpen your own knives with that very same devotion. 

You condemned it, yet conspire it at the same time. It was subtle and unconscious but Yzrivis noticed it all along — but perhaps, your devotion was not for him or for any religion, but for vengeance. 

And unfortunately, vengeance had always made the most devout and gluttonous believers.

The sky had long since shifted to bruised purples and golds, as Yzrivis sat crossed-legged on the blooming flowers beneath him.

He loves me, he loves me not.

Yzrivis’ twisted a pink petal of a belladonna lily between his pale fingers and let it fall to his lap, where dozens had already died before plucking another petal.

He loves me.

“Hm…” Yzrivis’ soulless eyes stared at the stem before crushing it in his palms, the sap leaking down his fingers.

Funny, because the flower almost reminded him of you — beautiful, exquisitely so, yet toxic at the same time. 

It amused him, really — because after that boy, Theo or whatever that insect’s name is, since he really didn’t give a fuck about him — told you about how he knew you from the past, you somehow wasted no time bending him toward your cause.

You probably didn’t believe him — because Yzrivis would still see the wariness and confusion in your eyes whenever Theo would yap about your previous rendezvous in the past. 

You didn’t trust him, but you used him — that’s for sure. He saw the way how you unconsciously manipulated that boy — to do things for you, like sneak to the weapon room, and other more stuff. 

You told him about you being forbidden to enter that room, about how they didn’t trust you about how you just wanted to know what was in there — which was kinda half-true, save for the curious part cause Yzrivis knows what you actually want from that room.

Theo obeyed like a loyal mutt who will probably chew off its own paw if you simply whispered “good boy.”

The little pest snuck in and memorized every weapon lined on those shelves, counting them for you, and describing them to you, hell he even started noting down the patterns on the guards on the eastern side of the settlement when you told him to.

Yzrivis didn’t like that for some reasons that even he doesn’t know.

Something about the way he looked at you grated on Yzrivis’ nerves. He always looked at you with eyes that didn’t deserve to see you.

How annoying that little pest truly is.

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒

The days passed, and Theo stuck to you like a leech who was addicted to voraciously sucking on your blood.

He followed you everywhere — like a stray dog who’d bitten the hand that fed him once and now made up for it by never leaving your side. 

You taught him the tasks, the non-negotiable morning prayers, and the duties that everyone must do unless they want to be punished.

Theo never stopped talking though, even during chores and prayers, he would endlessly yap. He would whisper when he wasn’t supposed to, crack jokes at the most random time and trauma dump on you sometimes.

He even calls you a different name — though, you had just assumed that he was only giving you a nickname.

He has nicknames for everyone after all.

He’s not as insufferable as you had expected him to be — he provides you a great company, quite useful, and even distracts you from focusing too much on your deteriorating mental health.

He distracted you just enough from spiraling too far down the void you’d grown so accustomed to staring into.

You ambled toward the outer garden, your gait unhurried, head lowered, eyes glazed — while Theo trailed behind you, his boots scuffing lazily against gravel.

“My throat’s gonna blister,” Theo grumbled behind you, dragging a hand through his mess of black hair.

“Seriously, who sings hymns that long? That’s like thirty straight minutes of vowel sounds. They’re so fucking delusional and creepy, i swear”

He’s so loud, you thought, slightly irritated.

“Tell me something i don’t know.” You stepped into the brittle grass, letting the cool green kiss your ankles before sinking slowly down into it with a soft exhale.

Your hand swept across the ground beside you, motioning for the raven haired boy to sit down with you.

“Okay,”  Theo spoke, hand covering his mouth to stiiffle a yawn as he  flopped down beside you gracelessly, one leg outstretched and the other bent up against his chest.

“So you woke me up with cold water.. just because i have to pray, sing hymns and learn about… a god?”

“Our god,”  you corrected without inflection, eyes trained on the tangled roots peeking from the soil. “Yzrivis…”

A subtle smile graced your lips at the mention of Yzrivis.

Theo  scoffed under his breath and dropped his chin onto his knee. “Right, right…Yzrivis.. big spooky guy with the skeleton hand and the eye.”

You hummed a low sound absentmindedly as your eyes flickered up to meet his brown orbs.

“The skeleton hand holding an eye is just his symbol, plus — you’re supposed to wash your mouth before saying his name.”

“…You might get punished for that, Theo.” 

Theo’s face fell, jaw slackening and pupils dilating from both astonishment and dread. “W-what the fuck..? are you serious?” Theo questioned nervously, brows creased in concern.

Anxiety rose from within his mind.

He had heard about the extreme punishments here from you after all — like Zyval’korr and many more — and he definitely wasn’t looking forward to experiencing such torment.

“[Name]… y-you’re not serious, are you?” Theo’s voice quiverwd as his eyes scanned your face for reassurance.

You let your lips curl upward in a smirk. “No,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Just thought I’d scare you.”

“Oh thank fuck..” Theo’s brows relaxed from their furrowed state as he placed his palm on his chest to calm down his racing heart.

“You asshole. I swear, I almost pissed myself. My soul left my body for a second…”

You pulled a crooked branch out of the earth and started poking patterns into the mud absently. “You pissing yourself would be a lovely sight.” You snickered before shaking your head.

“Anyway.. do your work instead of yapping.” 

You two began to work — and by the term “two“ it actually means just you.

Theo was absolutely useless. He didn’t help you, he was just humming, occasionally stopping to complain about a mosquito, or a rock poking his ankle.

Not like you minded it though, at least he wasn’t talking anymore. Theo was enough to drain your social battery after all.

You pressed your fingers into the loam, turning it, mixing compost through the roots of a wilted herb. 

“Hey, [Name].” Theo suddenly broke the silence.

“Uh.. what is this religion about anyway? I’ve been here for weeks doing the things the priests here ask me to, but they never really told me about the specifics.”

Ah.. shit, about that… You were supposed to inform him about that since you were expected to take care of him, but you forgot.

But still, Theo doesn’t seem to be harmless and doesn’t look like the type of person who would snitch on you — unlike other people.

Bitterness curled in your gut once again at the memory, and you reminded yourself to not easily trust people.

You tried to clear the painful memories off your mind and focus your thoughts on Theo instead.

“Well..”

You pulled a stubborn root from the soil and flicked it aside before speaking, your voice flat and thoughtful.

“Yzrivis is our god. And our religion is called the Faith of Xelvarith.” You began.

“He’s an all-seeing, all-knowing god of judgment, rebirth, and fate.” You continued, fingers absently tracing the edge of the planter box.

“He alone determines who is worthy of life and who must be condemned to an endless suffering.” You recited the stuff that you have read on one of the codex.

His judgement is fair too, i envy him and want to see from his point of view. You thought, pulling out an overgrown root from the soil.

“Oh.. like christianity then.. and uhm, other religions…”  Theo noted, watching you nod your head.

“Yeah.. like that, it’s kind of similar but different. I guess you could say the people here cling to faith for a living. It’s the only thing keeping people from tearing each other apart… and also because we are under his protection.”

Theo stared at you like you’d just sprouted a second head, surprise etched all over his face.

“So this is a religion, then…”

God, he’s so pitifully slow.

“I did say that it is a religion, didn’t i?”

You sat back on your heels, brushed some dirt off your hands, and shrugged as you reached over for a pot.

“From an outsider, it might seem like a cult. But to us—it’s a religion.”

Unease settled on Theo’s stomach as he narrowed slightly, unsure if you were joking or not. You lifted your head up to meet his gaze, seriousness plastered all over your face.

Seeing the look on your face, Theo forced an awkwardly laugh and picked a seed out of his shirt sleeve.

You started yapping about the religion, it entered his ear, yet it left and never quite got to sink in his brain, for he was too distracted in analyzing your behaviors.

Theo can’t just help but notice the pattern — that you were acting like those zealots.

It was subtle, with the way you carefully chose your words, but you were exhibiting the same behavior as the devotees.

The only difference is, you also describe the flaw, rather than depict it as immaculate and perfect as the others does — You didn’t seem brainwashed, you just seemed convinced.

He didn’t even realize that he was lost in his thoughts until he felt your fingers gripping his earlobe, giving it a sharp tug.

“Ow!” Theo winced, hand creeping up to smack your fingers away. 

“Are you even listening? You’re missing the essentials, about it.” You scolded, brows furrowed in irritation.

“I am..” Theo replied, but he knew that you could probably tell that he was lying.

“Don’t blame me if you get killed then.”

Theo winced again, rubbing the lobe of his ear with exaggerated offense. Damn it.

“God, you’ve gotten violent. No need to go full nun with a ruler on me.” 

Silence bloomed in the air once again, and Theo’s fingers raked idly through the loose soil beside the planter, sifting the grains between his calloused fingertips.

His other hand pressed against his aching earlobe where you’d tugged him, still warm and stinging from your touch.

He couldn’t help but look at you — not in the usual, casual way he always did, but really look.

What he saw didn’t really sit right with him because you were different —  as if you had been rinsed out, replaced with someone new wearing your skin.

Sure, you had forgotten about who you were, but he hadn’t. 

He knows that amnesia doesn’t exactly remove core personality traits that much like emotional temperament and such, and it often remain intact unless there’s brain damage to areas that influence personality.

But.. you didn’t looked physically unwell too, plus you would have to experience sensory issues if the memory loss that you were experiencing is linked to brain damage.

So… why?

Back then, one of the traits that you have — is that you were never convinced so easily, you always questioned, and analyze everything.

You had this fire in your eyes, this bitter honesty that made him believe in something.  

You were the reason Theo stopped going to church, the reason he questioned things, and the reason he tore the cross from his necklace.

“You know…” Theo broke the silence, voice laced with nostalgia.

“The [Name] I knew would rather die than join a cult-like religion,” he muttered.

A glacial shiver slithered down your spine, icy tendrils of dread wrapping around your vertebrae as his words ricocheted inside your skull like a demented echo.

Something about his words hit something in you. It stings, and it echoed in your mind relentlessly.

“You used to argue with people about faith like it was your full-time job, you told me once that if god was real, he’d be a bastard… You said… people only believe because they’re too scared to exist without someone telling them how.. and you said that the way faith condition others is the same psychological mechanism that trains dogs.”

Theo then looked up at you and gave you a crooked smile. “If I… if I ever start sounding like one of you know.. the zealots here, can you promise me something?”

“Yank my damn earlobe again, and feed me to the undead.”

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒

Theo’s words tugged relentlessly at your heartstrings in an unpleasant way.

Shame has started to bubble deep inside you, but you would force it down.

After all, people change, don’t they? It’s not like your faith was conditioned and full of delusion anyways — you accepted it, accepted him. 

You were not brainwashed, coerced into believing someone you didn’t want to. 

Yzrivis was your god.

Because he made you feel safe, seen, not judged for your cruelty, or mocked for your spirals.

You enjoy being in his arms, listening to his soothing voice, looking at his face, and listening to the random stories that he would tell you.

You miss him though, because he had yet to appear for weeks now and his absence has left a hollow void within you.

But you supposed that perhaps, the reason why he had yet to come and visit you was because theo is with you 24/7.

Just then, the rickety door creaked open, breaking your spiral.

“Hey,” Theo called softly, stepping into the dim light with something bundled in his arms. “I brought you something.”

You looked up, watching him cross the room with his usual half-limping gait.

His robe was speckled with dust and his knuckles had a new scrape on them, but his grin was intact — like it always was as he held out a napkin-wrapped bundle toward you.

“Extra bread,” he said proudly. “And sweets pilfered straight from Baldzilla’s pantry.”

Fuck that’s awful. You huffed out a laugh despite yourself, snorting through your nose.

Baldzilla was probably one of the bald priests — it was cringe, sure. But at this point, you find them funny — because it was like a drop of color in a monochrome world.

Especially since you were living in the said word. It was bland, and you’ve never really had fun with people here — unless you’re with Yzrivis or Theo.

“You’re going to get caught one of these days.” You shook your head, lips curl up in amusement, yet a tinge of worry laced your voice.

You have grown fond of Theo, yet you still held your distance. You didn’t really wanna get attached, not when they would end up leaving you.

Alri’s death and Lysara’s betrayal was still a bleeding wound that had yet to close after all.

“You should be more careful, it’s dangerous if you get caught. Because y’know.. stealing here is a sin. It could cause your life.” You chided softly.

“I won’t,” Theo waved a hand like he was swatting away a fly, even as he tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

You sat in silence for a few moments, chewing slowly, the room quiet except for the soft crunch of crust 

Theo shifted his position now and then, his elbow grazing yours when he leaned forward to reach the fig tucked at the bottom of the cloth.

Then, as casually as someone might mention the weather, Theo reached into his sleeve and pulled a glinting, sharp blade out..

“I got this for you too. You said that you needed weapons in case the zombies manage to break through the barrier, right?” he gave you a cheeky. “No one saw me.”

Your gaze sharpened as Theo twirled the knife between his fingers like it was a coin. “…Hm.. that would be great, i think..”

“Also,” he added, dropping his voice a little, “I checked the weapon room. I slipped in when they were changing shift rotations. There’s no gasoline in there,” he said. “Just some axes, ceremonial stuff, a  few stun batons, guns, and all.”

Ah..

“So the stash isn’t there,” You murmured, a twinge of disappointment lacing your voice. 

It was strange, because you swore that they own a lot of it. After all, they burned the face of that man during Zyval’korr.

However, if they have very little of it, it would still be enough — because the settlement is quite flammable, and it would be easy to set everything on fire — as long as you have gasoline.

“..What do you think?” You turned your heard towards Theo, brows raising inquisitively.

“I think they moved it.” He leaned back, arms folded behind his head. “Either way, it looks like we’re back to square one.”

Why are they so good at hiding things? You mulled it over quietly, tracing the edge of the cloth in your lap. 

“What would you even do with gasoline?” Theo suddenly asked suddenly, turning his head to face you, expression  unreadable. “You planning to burn the place down?”

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒

You laid down on the bed quietly, eyes tracing the cracks on the roof as if it was the most interesting thing ever as Theo’s bony elbows poked into your side.

A weird knot had been twisting in your gut for a while now for inexplicable reasons — but you supposed that maybe, it’s just because of the cold.

“Theo, stop staring at me.”  You grunted, trying to tug the blanket over your body, but Theo hissed and yanked it harder to his side, curling around it like a dragon hoarding gold.

“Theo. Quit it.” You clicked your tongue, irritation lacing your words as you tried to pull the blanket back.

“Ugh, dude — i’m not staring at you, i’m literally facing the wall.” Theo snapped, voice muffled because of his pillow.

You exhaled through your nose and glanced over your shoulder, just to be sure — and sure enough, he was.

He was curled up like a shrimp, his back toward you, one leg  half-draped over the blanket and a pillow tucked in his arms.

“Tch.”   You rolled back, spine aching against the wooden plank beneath the mattress as you adjusted the pathetic, limp, and moth-bitten pillow beneath your skull.

It’s stuffing had long since been reduced to uneven clumps of barely-there softness and now it just felt as if you were laying your head on a rock, but still, you endure it.

After all, what else can you do but endure?  

You tried to convince yourself it was nothing though, that your brain was just chewing the scraps of stress left behind from the last few days.

But still, it was hard to ignore the feeling of being watched.

That little shit is definitely the perpetrator — Theo liked to get in your nerves after all.

He was probably watching you with those soft brown eyes, pretending to be harmless, pretending not to track your every move like a mutt afraid of being abandoned.

Damn it. You swallowed, jaw clenched, and glanced behind you again, but Theo was still facing the wall.

Am i just being paranoid? You wondered as you tried to relax your jaw, and tried to breathe through the tension behind your eyes.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to force yourself to fall asleep.

Time bled onward in agonizing slowness, yet sleep still hasn’t wrapped you into its embrace.

You could hear Theo’s breathing now, soft and even — the little bastard had fallen asleep like he hadn’t just shoved his elbows into your kidneys for the past hour.

Slowly, quietly, you slipped your hand under the cot and searched blindly for the knifr that Theo had stolen for you.

The metal was cold against your fingertips as they found the hilt — and you curled your fingers around it and slid it free.

You stared at it for a moment, chest rising slowly, before you sat up — careful not to rattle the frame.

Your wrist trembled as you brought the knife to your skin, hovering just above the place where the veins pulsed beneath the surface. 

Then, you pressed the blade down, your blood welling in crimson threads, seeping into your palm as the blade carved jagged letters of the deity’s name into your skin.

You haven’t really done this before — but right now, you were too consumed by longing to even consider the consequences.

Plus, it was Yzrivis who told you to do it, when you want him to appear.

You vaguely remember him telling you that when you were busy discussing the possible escape routes in the settlement with him.

And then — just as it always did — the air around you changed, the shadows deepened, and the air grew colder and he immediately appeared.

You dropped the knife and surged forward, rising to your knees on the cot and wrapping your arms around him, your blood-slicked wrist leaving a smear of crimson on the front of his robe.

“You haven’t come to see me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the edge, fingers curling into his sides, fisting the fabric.

“Why haven’t you appeared? You said you will help me kill them in exchange for my soul. I’m giving it to you, aren’t i? You told me to be patient, i’m doing it.”

Yzrivis lowered his face to yours, one hand gently raising to cradle the back of your skull while your fingers reached for his veil and pulled it down.

“I wanted to tell you about my progress, y’know. I prayed to you. ” you murmured, a tremble in your throat as your hands cupped his cheeks.

You hadn’t realized how empty you’d felt until now — until you touched him again. “You make everything quiet…”

“Hm..” Yzrivis leaned forward, brought your wounded wrist to his lips, and his tongue slithered out to lap at the blood.

The pain dulled instantly, and you exhaled, shivering slightly, as the flesh began to knit together beneath his tongue.

It was disgusting, but still, it made your heart flutter.

“Are you.. going to answer or not?” You questioned, slightly irritated, while Yzrivis’ eyes flicked over your shoulder.

“…What are you even looking at?” Your gaze followed his, and turns out ye was staring at Theo.

He just watched him, with a blankness that unsettled the pit of your stomach. You swallowed and turned, placing your hand gently against his chest as if to pull his attention back.

“That’s Theo.. He’s my friend, i suppose. But he’s weird,” you murmured, voice quieter now, hesitant..

You glanced at Theo’s sleeping form again, the blanket half-kicked off, his jaw slack in the dumb way only real sleep could make someone look. “He’s not bad. He’s really… useful.”

The hand at the back of your head slipped down to cradle your jaw instead, thumb resting lightly against your lower lip. “Friend, huh…” 

“Yeah,” you murmured, blinking slowly.

“Do you think,” he began, voice low, and silky. “that you should really trust him?”

Huh…? What is he implying? 

Your eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, a brief flash of emotion before your gaze narrowed, head tipping to the side inquisitively.

“He looks genuine enough,” The words came out so defensively, like you were already trying to justify it.

“I mean—he’s annoying sometimes, sure, but—he’s not like the others. He’s not like them. He looks genuine and he cares for me..”

“Mmh.. genuine. So was Lysara, once.”

Your face drained of color, blood retreating from your face like a terrified tide. 

“And look how that ended.”

Yzrivis leaned closer, his breath brushing the edge of your ear.

“Like i said before when we first met, you only see what you want to see. You said that you feel safe with him, but so do lambs before the blade comes.”

You frowned, looking back at Theo, eyes narrowing slightly.

“But he seems like he actually cares for me.”

You gnawed on your lower lip, the soft flesh caught between your teeth as doubt swirled like bitter smoke in your mind.

“Seems.” He repeated. “That’s a delicate thing to stake your trust on. So did the moon seem kind to the wolf — until it pulled the tide and drowned her cubs.”

“You’re speaking in riddles again.” You frowned. 

“Yeah, i am.” he said softly, brushing his knuckles against your cheekbone.

“But.. come now, little wolf. You’re smarter than this. You’re just actually getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“He just mirrors what he thinks you want. It’s  adaptation, isn’t it? It’s what creatures do when they’re afraid of losing shelter. You did the same to Lysara, didn’t you?”

“All it takes,” he murmured, “is one wrong word to the wrong priest. Lysara did the same to you, and history will repeat itself if you let your guard down because of that boy.”

Fuck… Yzrivis always knew how to say the exact thing that would slip past your defenses, huh.

A razor-sharp smirk sliced across his face as he watched  doubt bloom in your eyes like a poisonous flower.

Yzrivis didn’t lie, not really. That was the trick of it — he never directly accused, he just nudged your perception and planted a question and let your own brain do the rest.

Theo acted harmless, but Lysara did too. Now, with Yzrivis’s words slithering inside your skull, you weren’t sure.

His words rewound every memory you had and replayed it with new context, like a paranoid director revisiting old footage.

He was right, wasn’t he? Anyone could mimic sincerity — because Lysara did once too.

“Haa.. you’re right.” You pressed your palms on your forehead as you leaned your weight on him.

“I shouldn’t have let my guard down..” You muttered bitterly. “What.. do you think i should do?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, searching for reassurance. 

“Let go of what you think is true. And see what is.”

A strained laugh left your throat as you shook your head. “You know… sometimes… I wish I had your mindset.” The words escaped before you could stop them.

“You see through them, you don’t get fooled, and you always know what’s real, and what isn’t…”

“You always see what I miss. I wish I could see like you do.”

“Hm.. alright then.” Yzrivis’ fingers moved to your cheek, cold and tender, then slid gently upward to cover your eyes.

“Huh..?”

“Close them,” he whispered, “Don’t look yet.” His hand cradled your face as he tilted his own head downward. Then, his other hand lifted to his temple.

Without ceremony, without hesitation, his fingers pressed inward to his left eye.

His fingers dug past the soft tissues, slipping behind the orbit, and a shudder of pressure echoed behind his temple as he curled his fingers in and plucked.

He twisted the eye free like a ripe fruit, nerves stretching thin and then snapping as ichor poured from the empty eyesockets, sliding down his cheek in rivulets.

“Swallow.” Yzrivis murmured into your ear as he slipped it onto your tongue, lips curving into a smirk.

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a/n: For those interested in updates or sneak peeks or theory shit abt this book, then feel free to join my discord server—the link is on my profile.