Eviscerate - I | The Endless Forest

[Should probably just always slap a mature warning on these...]

Jergens was barely aware that Friend had forced him back into unconsciousness.

"Um... is he okay?"

"It'll be okay. Seems like he does this a lot."

"He does not! Come on Dad, wake up!"

"You're related?!"

Everything went by him so quickly that he barely noticed himself being pulled back down, back into Friend's realm. His thoughts were jumbled, clouded by confusion over what exactly to feel. Sad? Happy? Accepting? He had not a single idea.

So he chose indifference, even if his emotions spoke otherwise.

Thththththththth...

They were in the classroom again, as vibrant and detailed as if it were real. The walls were still that same unwelcoming concrete, the chalkboard smeared with yellowish dust and muddied doodles. The floor was still as polished as ever, reflecting Jergens' phantom body back to him.

He was sitting in his desk, as if he had just walked back into their previous conversation. His hands automatically clutched at the table, fingernails digging into the wood grain finish.

Friend was nonchalantly leaning against the chalkboard, his plain, stoic expression staring back at him.

"Well... looks like we've run into a little obstacle..." he spoke, his child-like voice bouncing off the walls and echoing in Jergens' ears. "No problem; all we have to do is get rid of him, right?" he rolled back his shoulders in an elegant shrug.

At that comment; Jergens could no longer manage a semi-neutral expression. His nails dug themselves into the fine gloss finish on the desk's surface, and his lips involuntarily curled upwards. He opened his mouth to speak, stupidly forgetting that, as was the status quo, he couldn't speak in this realm. He could only communicate through jumbled masses of thought.

Friend just shook his head, sighing hopelessly. "You're an idiot..." he grumbled, placing his hands on his bare hips. "Look... how about I give you a present? Just this once. And after that, I have another lesson for you."

(fuckyergiftsidont...)

Jergens' thoughts were cut off as he felt a dull, pounding sensation in his throat. It was a numbing, almost ghastly feeling, as if his airway was being cut off, even if neither of them really breathed in this world.

It didn't take Jergens long to realize what Friend was actually doing, and he hated the enigma for it, even more so than he already did.

He waited until the numbness died down, leaving nothing but a sickening taste in the back of his throat. Cautiously, he placed an index finger on his Adam's apple, tracing upwards to ensure that there was no more lingering pain. His grin had faded away, replaced by a an oddly stoic expression.

"Let me get this straight..." Jergens labored over the words, a bit taken aback at how distorted and out of place they sounded. "I could always talk right here? Ya just wanted to watch me flop around while ya played the boss role?" he spat, unable to hide the obvious contempt in his voice.

Friend offered up a sticky sweet smile in reply. "It's my world. I make the rules, and I can break them just as easily... besides; I figure you have some questions, right?" he turned his back on the other man toward the board and picked up a tiny nub of sickly yellow chalk. "Let's get right into lesson two, shall we?"

"The fuck I will!" Jergens wiggled out of his seat and stormed up to Friend, wrenching the chalk out of the boy's hand. "Yew knew about this, didn't ya?" he questioned, grabbing a tight hold on the boy's shoulder. He dug his nails into the enigma's 'flesh', though more for his own satisfaction than anything else. He knew that Friend couldn't feel it.

His younger self raised a eyebrow, lips scrunched in a condescending frown. "Come on Jergens. You're not this dumb. How could I possibly know that you and Bartleby would... heh..." he cupped a hand to his mouth, stifling a mad little giggle. "I'm you. I'm what you could have been. I'm what you want to forget, but I'm not a fortune teller." he pointed back at the lone desk. "I have a theory... so sit down, shut up, and let me talk."

Being told to 'shut up' only served to add fuel to the fire, and it took every amount of Jergens' self-control to not try to choke him again. It'd be fruitless if he tried. Capitulating; he walked back to his desk and sat upon the table top, crossing his legs defiantly. "Alright... do yer fancy explain'..."

During this entire time, Jergens could hear a steady murmur from the 'outside' world, consisting of his daughter, step-father and... son? Ugh... what was he supposed to think? With that thought sinking in; the man placed two fingers on his temple, sighing.

"Okay..." Friend murmured. He grabbed another piece of chalk to draw two misshapen circles on the board. "Remember your fawnhood, Jergens?" he asked. "What was the first thing you did?"

As he spoke; the boy sketched a crude looking deer in each of the spheres, drawing an arrow towards each one to label them as 'Jergy'. It would have been funny if Friend hadn't written it in such a serious manner.

Jergens had to think for a few seconds. His life as a fawn had all sort of vanished in a blur. He remembered having few to no friends... the only one being his adopted father, The Priest. It wasn't that Jergens had been anti-social, far from it actually...

"I looked fer Faith..." he murmured, his posture slumping ever so slightly. "Think I stopped round' the time I met back up with Rose..."

Friend nodded distastefully and drew another, smaller deer next to one of the 'Jergy' deer he had drawn. "In your forest; you never found Bartleby. End of story." he drew another, even tinier deer underneath the two. "And thus, you and Rosine got your own personal hell spawn from the Gods."

The man tensed, eyes narrowing. "Call Peo that one more time and I'm smashin' yer goddamn skull against that board. Don't think that I won't do it." he almost growled, the hair on the back of his neck bristling upwards.

Friend ignored him, poking his chalk against the other circle with only one deer. "In this world, the forest we're in now... you probably did the exact same thing..." he explained, turning to Jergens with a faint, plastic smile.

"What if things had turned out differently? What if you found him in the end?"

He drew another deer next to the lone one, larger than his horrid representation of Rosine.

"And as a result; what if you just clung to each other? You'd be mates, as much as you hate that term... and as a result..." he drew a tiny fawn between them.

"Voila. You have your own, completely different kid."

Satisfied; Friend turned to Jergens with an easy smile. "Make sense? Your lives just took completely different turns at an early period." he added in, placing the chalk back in its proper holding area. He daintily brushed off his dusted palms against his bare legs, spreading the filth.

It was hard for Jergens to keep himself as flat as possible throughout this whole explanation. He couldn't grasp the concept of having 'two other selves' and had automatically pictured himself being thrown into some hellish love triangle. He rested his bearded chin on his palm, propping himself up with his elbow. He didn't answer, simply because he couldn't think of anything of real value to say.

"If it's any comfort to you; this Sect fellow is only really your son in a more... biological sense... I mean... it's not like you really feel any involuntary love for him, right?" Friend started to ramble, waving his hand about in nonsensical gestures.

"Shut up." Jergens grumbled. He wouldn't even consider Friend's side of the issue. His other self completely lacked any empathy, and was thus completely useless in moral dilemmas like this.

The murmuring overhead was growing steadily louder, not that that really mattered. The others were pretty much just questioning Sect.

Sect... what kind of name was that? That had to have been Faith's idea. Jergens would have never named his son something so outlandish (though arguably, he would have picked a lotion brand anyway). Knowing Bartleby, it probably meant something. Not that it mattered in the long run, and Jergens had more important matters to mull over.

As he thought; he and Friend listened to the conversation from the 'outside' world.

"So we're talkin' about the same Jergens, right? Red fur, big antlers... queer mask..."

"I guess... unless I'm reading your lips wrong. I don't do that, you know. I'm a pro at that kind of thing... My dad, my other dad I mean, always told me that I had a really good talent for it. So in the end; I'm not reading you wrong... I think..."

"Tell us about your other dad then... Bartleby? I think I've heard that name before..."

"Oh... My other Dad had a grey coat... kinda like ashes, right? And he always wore these ultra-fashionable candles... sometimes poppies, but they always really clashed. And his hooves were yellow... Yeah."

"Faith must have been in his stag form the whole time then..." Friend interrupted, thinking out loud. Jergens ignored him, more or less wondering why Sect was describing Bartleby in past tense. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Judging from the way the conversation turned, Christof and Peony seemed to catch on it too.

"'Had'? 'Were'? What are ya talkin' about kid..."

"What? Oh... well... He died a few months ago, that's why..."

"What?!" Jergens snapped his head heavenwards, towards the conversation, though of course only saw a plain ceiling blocking his view. He turned to Friend, who simply shrugged his shoulders in mild indifference.

"Relax. Our Bartleby isn't dead, remember? Just because one dies, doesn't mean the other will..." he stopped abruptly when he felt a stiff hand grab his wrist, squeezing tightly.

Jergens thrust him forward, forcing their faces to nearly bump against each other. "We can't do this." he said simply, his face devoid of any expression.

Friend knew perfectly well what he meant.

"Oh?" he wrenched his wrist free and gently rubbed at it with his other hand, eying Jergens suspiciously. "And why not?"

"It was wrong to begin with when we found out that my other self has a kid too..." Jergens explained, forcing his gaze downwards. "We can't do it. I don't to leave him without a dad... ain't right... It's sick. It's fucking sick." he lamely mumbled, quite unable to really portray his mixed feelings in words.

Friend sighed, almost in disgust. "You're pathetic." he stated flatly. "Sacrificing the chance of a lifetime for some brat you don't know?" he crossed his arms and smiled.

It wasn't a sane smile, nor was it a threatened grin. No; this was an expression of madness that only Friend could accomplish.

Jergens hated that smile, for the sole reason that he knew what it meant.

It meant that Friend had beaten him at his own game.

"In the end, Jergens, we're still going to go through with this. You accepted the price, no matter the cost." the boy pressed his hand against his bare chest, upon a heart that did not exist. "I'm in control, and you know as well as I that having ourselves mingle would be the death of us. Your body would lash out, and you'd end up hurting everyone close to you. In this case, your family."

In all of his time in the forest; Jergens didn't think that he had ever been angrier than he was now. His knuckles had turned a bone-white from clutching at the desk's edge, his teeth grinding in hidden rage. Friend had placed him completely under his thumb, like it or not, and the man was practically let it happen.

But no, Friend wasn't done yet.

The boy held his hands behind his back and swayed back and forth, almost like a shy schoolgirl. "And don't even think of forcing me to stop altogether, because if you do, and when I eventually gain back control..." he leaned in closer, his mouth in direct alignment with the man's ear. "...I'll rip through your Hell spawn's throat like hot butter."

Jergens opened his mouth to reply, to give Friend the ultimate tongue lashing of his lifetime, but no sound emitted from his lips.

Friend had simply cut off his line of speech.

Thththththump...

It was ending... no... not now...

Jergens lunged forward to grab at Friend, but found that his hand merely phased through the boy's body. He was mocking him to the absolute extreme, ensuring that his other self had no dignity to spare.

"As for Sect, Jergens... Think about it..."

The classroom faded away, giving way to the inky blackness that was Jergens' subconscious.

"We can always promise the kid that he can see his dead father in the flesh after all this is over. An equal trade, right? I know you... you love trades. One dead father for us... and a live one for him... Perfect."

---

You can just tell that I rushed this ;; Really eager to get it done, actually...

As for the title of this act... No; I'm not a completely morbid bastard. Think of a more... metaphorical sense...

Ugh... two AM... I'll edit more thoroughly tomorrow...