Ethereal Paradigm: A Canvas Of Black 100 Of Nausea And Formaldehyde

-W.H. Auden, Selected Essays

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"Just remember, both of you my precious music students, while playing the piano, treating the keys as if it is someone else's fragile heart, one must be well-driven, not for the upcoming profit and fame, but because you have had withheld the opportunity to deliver such graceful sonatas to the world, comprised of the ma.s.ses that continuously watch your moves, your gestures, and of course, the emotions that you're incorporating within, which is the most important of all, besides from your mastery and playing caliber. With that, everything that you desire so follows. Is that clear?" Discusses the international-tier music teacher showing us this enlightened and composed posture, without knowing that I can see very well, these negative forces that surround.

If indeed, I can't see all of this malevolence, I could have had easily categorize her as a graceful teacher with the pure endeavor to pa.s.s her skills as a connoisseur to us, her most valued students at that time, as I have had always considered her back on the old days, but not in this perspective... Maybe just some serious personal problems?

"Yes miss Selene." Answered the man, willingly while prior joyously listening to the discussion and the tutorials... And on the other side, in a physical distance from both of them, especially from that man, is me, unusually not attentive to the lesson, which is just so discrepant from me and my original past extroversive-self where I try to compete as much as I could.

"Jaiden..." She calls.

"Yes?" I replied, seeing her looking all concerned about my demeanor.

"Is something wrong?... You look pale. Are you sick?"Asked, the pianist, holding off the tutoring session for a bit.

"I'm fine..."

"Hey, address our teacher properly... Ah, don't worry Miss Selene. Jaiden here just has this weird habit of mood swings."

"Hmmm? Mood swings? Doesn't look like one to me."

She then stood from the bench, drawing closer to me, while slowly putting her hand on my forehead to check my temperature if indeed I'm somewhat ill... which of course, is but a mere a.s.sumption. I'm not looking pale due to some trivial health reasons. I am just, plainly disgusted that I'm in this sphere with a perfect replica of everything from my past, and I don't even know anymore if this is indeed just an illusion... Yet, as the pianist's hand made contact with my forehead, I felt power surging towards me, and one thing I'm sure now is that this lady, is not just in any private quagmire. This hatred is something entirely else and as to where it's supposed to be directed to, I don't know.

"Hmmm... He's fine." realized the preceptor...

"Listen, little brother, we can't continue distracting Miss Selene in her job now. You know that, right Jaiden? Let's get back to learning. We have an upcoming performance in two days' time, and both mother and father will be there. We can't let them see any fiasco, or else, they'll think that we were slacking this entire time... We can't waste another second."

"Do you mean that performance where you play the piano while not taking heed that you ma.s.sacred an entire household?" So I thought, mustering up an avid amount of effort to keep it clandestine to myself.

"Jaiden, your brother is correct... We have to go back to the lecture, okay? After this last one, I'll let both of you go." The pianist exclaimed.

"Got that?" he added...

The soon-to-be heir, patted me, rather intensely on the back. And then... the highest extent of nausea coalesced with the sudden and consecutive reminiscing of that deranged past just from that physical contact alone, came to me, like vintage comic strips playing in 360-pixel quality...

"Pardon... I-I have to go to the toilet."

"Eh? Hey!" What does he mean 'hey'? Does he want me to puke on him?

I hastily went through the empty living room without looking back to the both of them, towards the toilet, and in my way there, are again, the nostalgic flashbacks that are rather insubstantial. I noticed the aristocratic gun that my father uses for his hunting game, the same weapon that killed them all... And on the other side of the wall, the displayed dagger where I pinched my fingers on, to sign that stygian contract with my blood... which was but one of the most cliched part of my adamantly boring Biography.

In the toilet, I'm unable to hold back... I hastily locked the door and started vomiting, even though I ate nothing this morning...

"Master... Are you okay? I'm sensing extraordinary neural activities from you." Azazel suddenly appeared in my field of vision.

"Good, you're functional."

"Yes, Master. Twenty-four slash seven, I am... Is there anything that I could help you with?"

"Y-yeah... Where are we?"

"u003cCollecting datau003e... u003cProcessingu003e... u003ca.n.a.lyzing derivativesu003e... u003cDelineating resultu003e... Master. we're still inside the Paradigm s.h.i.+ft, 'Illusory Valhalla'... "

"I think I already know that... What is that Paradigm s.h.i.+ft anyway?" I talked, continuing to force vomiting even if there's nothing left to discharge anymore... And suddenly, my insignia also started to ache, as if it's responding to my overt expression of nausea, slowly moving its hand almost towards the fourth threshold. Almost...

In years, this is the first again, that I saw it move, albeit just a little... probably because of these overdriven mental stimuli which are literally everywhere and I know, that it's not for long before I'll have to bid farewell to one of these twelve major superfluous emotions again.

"Illusory Valhalla is a spell, Master. It's done by extracting some of your memories and then creating a 'false' world from it..." Exclaimed the AI, responding to my question.

"False world? Then why am I feeling that this is rather too realistic?"

"It is indeed, a false world, Master. Moreover, false it may be, it does not mean that everything that is shown within this sphere is also false..."

What?

"I will continue a.s.sessing the situation on the backgrounds further, Master... I'll prompt you when I'll find something of note without any undue delays. Will that be ok, Master?"

"Yes... yes, please."

"Affirmative. And Master, please do be informed that you're still under your 'Overlord' form." Then, she disappeared...

(...)

"Hey, Jaiden! Are you okay? Who are you talking too?" That voice, came, as though forcing it's way on the locked toilet door...

"I'm fine... Just talking to my... Imaginary friend."

"Imaginary friend? Ahahaha... You're joking. You're acting very weird, little brother... I'll call Xerxes for some medicines, you go back to the living room and entertain Miss Selene while I'm on it, okay?"

"Ah... yeah." I responded, even though what I really wanted to say was 'Just go away already'... Yet, no can do...

Hearing the footsteps leaving, and my nausea almost ameliorated to a bare minimum as I emptied my stomach, I slowly opened the door, to go back to the living room as per said, and unlike before, the whole mansion is now under this recently-perceived malevolent charisma making the air, stagnant...and the moment I got back to the designated lecturing sala... I believe I should have had also, puked all of my entrails out beforehand.

Still seated on the piano, is the teacher... and believing that she's all alone, slowly opens this crocodile-skin and expensive-looking bag while humming Mozart's Requiem with an eerie voice... and inside the bag, which took the entirety of its capacity are these white-colored tablets of which I recognized to be formaldehyde, which is a chemical used to delay the decaying of dead bodies, and out from there, a well-preserved human-head...

"Just a little bit... darling. The Death Sonata is soon to be unleashed..." She said, caressing the head, kissing it lips-to-lips... which is just, a vivid sight of a plain malady.