"....."
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"†ђ!$_ ωøη'† ḋø... ⲧh!$_ ω𐍉η'† ð𐌀…"
"1'll ha\/3 ʇo ʇɐʞǝ ɥǝɹ ɐʍɐʎ…"
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****
Her eyes looked up ahead. Holding sight of the hazy fog of the sky. The rushing waterfall hustled down with a great roar. The far view of a troubled yet peaceful ocean and towering high above it was the rock she stood on.
She let down her tired self slowly. The feel of the hard rock on her buttocks was oddly comforting, and yet again, this overwhelming feeling of awareness— deep awareness of the world around her drowned her worries.
Her life…. Was over. All that was needed was a clean finish.
She chuckled, "Is the game finally done? Was this your goal all this while? To lead me… To this…?"
It had suddenly appeared in the mirror one day and just like that… She was no longer herself. She had once blamed that man, but her blame dwindled with time as logic whispered truths that she couldn't ignore.
It wasn't him. It was all… IT.
IT ruined her relationship with her family.
IT ruined her relationship with her friends.
IT ruined her relationship with herself.
And now, IT ruined the one last thing she had going for her— the illusion she never cared much about but grasped in her world of desolation. Her social life.
IT ruined her social life.
And now, She was dead. What remained was a clean finish.
She stood up. Despite knowing her intentions IT let her climb to these mountains. Even now, IT was doing nothing. Was this what IT wanted, for so long…?
"Am I… even allowed to die?"
The calming winds fluttered through the gaps of her midnight strands scattering them across her fair face— a single strand slipping into her red lips.
She looked up to the sky and sighed.
"You… your appearance that day was of epitome black. No form. No shape. Yet, somehow, you reflected my image perfectly. The mirror shattered that day and I… my hand it…. It bled."
"Did you know?"
She inched closer to the edge of the cliff.
"I've always wondered since then."
Her hands reached out to the mass of white bandages across her arms and tearing them away what sprawled across were scars. Cuts of every size and type. Crisscrossing, intermingling, some fading, and some thriving.
"With every cut." Her transparent nails dug madly into her arms, strong enough to draw blood. "With every single drop of blood."
Crimson trickled, softly dripping to the rocky ground.
"I wondered…" her nails were uprooted, haggardly stained with blood.
"If I stabbed you, would you bleed ink?"
She chuckled.
Guess she'd never know.
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Plop!
***
Her eyes parted open, to the most beautiful sight her eyes had ever laid on. Or mind imagined.
It wasn't a place. No. It was… A man.
"Welcome, Geraldina, to The Bureau Of Souls."
His hair fell short to his neck. His eyes had a mysticism of allure. The entirety of him was to spite every beauty as less than. An incorrigible excellence.
Perhaps if the man that ruined her life had been him, then she wouldn't have died so embittered. She mused, for such beauty even a god would destroy his Creation and hold no remorse.
"Beautiful…. Perfection. You're just a perfect figment to send me off. My mind decided to do one last good thing at the very least."
The man stared at her blankly which morphed to shock by her next action. She had ripped her shirt apart.
His expression faded almost as immediately as it came, and her clothes returned to normal just as quickly.
She furrowed.
"What? I'm not allowed to fuck you? So I can't even have this one last thing— well, fine! Why am I even here?! Did you just wanna tease me even after I died. You fucking insufferabl—"
"Calm down."
Her eyes glared. "You—"
"You've reincarnated."
There was silence and then an incredulous questioning.
"What?" Her golden brown eyes pierced through him arrogantly but was met with indifference triggering even further disdain from her.
"You have died. Along the path of reincarnation, a deviation occurred. Another path that automatically leads you here. Now you have two choices before the platter of your laps."
He paused, raising his slender, tall, gloved fingers. Dina bit her lips. She wanted to bite those gloves next.
"Become a Bureau worker— a Transmigrator to be exact."
One long finger curved down. She gulped. Must every action be so damn delectable? This man was a feast— at least her eyes were well-fed.
"And two, continue to your normal cycle as a soul. But if I may speak a word of advice or more. I recommend the former."
Dina huffed. Of course, he would; he was their worker.
She sighed deeply, "Listen."
His hand was down, and he listened with full attention; something about that really made Dina's blood boil.
She wasn't such a thirsty person. Once he rejected her, despite her crash out, she'd never push for it again. However, every single action of this man was simply too much.
Being this beautiful was just too immoral. What were you? A Luciferic creature created to perpetuate the sin of lust?
Could the so-called Bureau have purposely sent him to use his charms to drag her in? Not that she believed whatever all this was. After all, they were simply fairytales of a dying mind.
"I'm not interested," her face fell, "I'm so damn tired of fighting for a fucking life that's not gonna be me living it. What, then, do I do within the mission world once IT decapitates me? Would that be counted against me or forgiven? If forgiven, for how long would the Bureau extend such sympathy? I'm tired you see."
A bitter grin shattered her pretty visage, "Of fighting endlessly. Of watching as my life is lived by something that wants nothing but the worst for me. Of wanting to stab it to death every day and then being unable to channel the hate onto myself— I'm just… fucking exhausted."
There was a pause and just as Dina was about to hammer her rejection in for the last time, the male's red lips parted.
"It won't control you across missions. Additionally, you get a wish after your work is done."
Dina's almond eyes widened in shock.
"Wait—"
"Even more, how sure are you that the next life wouldn't be another new beginning of your misery— why not take a chance that'll truly break its chains?"
Green met golden brown and the latter gulped.
Well now, reality or not, it truly became a very despicably tempting offer.
To be honest, she suspected the Bureau might be the one who perpetuated her misery to orchestrate her employance here, but… Guessing wouldn't get her anywhere now, would it?
"If it's like this." Dina's eyes quivered, then settled to a more determined gaze, "Tell me what I am to do."
It was all a fallacy. She couldn't care less about what she had to do. She was simply desperate.
Now he had offered her everything she could ever ask for. Whether reality or a beautiful dream she still had an unanswered question she needed an answer to.
If I stabbed you, would you bleed ink?