PART ONE:
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/x4nure/consider_eternity/
PART TWO:
https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/xax2s9/consider_eternity_part_two/
TW: reference to extreme violence
I don’t think I was ever a good person. Morality is subjective, good and evil are personal choices, I’ve heard it all. But still. When you were born into war your first time around and then war and all other manner of horrors follow you through the rest of time, can any of your actions truly be justified? The morality of war is decided by the victors some say, but I know that there can be no victors in war. The very act of war is immoral, I tell myself some days. Then other days I’ll think that it doesn’t matter what we do because people still die and war will happen whether we oppose it or not. So take your revenge from the world and damn the consequences!
I go back and forth between these two extremes like a pendulum and I don’t know the difference between right and wrong anymore. So I’ve broken morality down into two options: an action I choose to take will either cause harm or it will not. Whether that harm affects me or someone else, it is still harm and therefore I always try to choose the option that will bring the least amount of harm into the world. Sometimes I have to pick which action causes more harm to me, or to another, and then I can either be selfish, or I can choose pain. I can choose punishment.
I’ve mentioned karma before. Though I believe that karma has and still does punish me for my actions, the guilt from what I’ve done drives me to punish myself more often than not. Do I deserve that meal? Should I really be allowed to speak my mind, ask for what I need? Should I tell someone they’ve hurt me or should I suffer in silence because what difference would an apology make?
I’m going to take this one by one. I will tell you what kind of person I was, what archetype I filled, I will give context, and then I will list my crimes. I’m skipping over the ones where war was simply the way things were and instead focus on the ones where I was unquestionably the villain. The ones where my actions were selfish and cruel and caused so much harm to others that I can never repay the blood I’ve spilled.
First. I can tell you my name then because we have no reference to that universe here. My name was Illydia. I was telekinetic. I gave in to my fear and my hurt and I took over the United States. I am guilty of slavery, murder, wrongful imprisonment, and terrorism. Death by assassination.
Second. My name was Syrena. I learned the complicated magic of my universe and chose three time periods to rule in succession. I am guilty of two counts of infanticide, six counts of harvesting human organs for spell ingredients, two counts of usurpation, tyranny, murder, the wrongful ownership of a human being for sexual purposes, and murder. Death by suicide.
Third. I was an immortal human. They called me by the name of a mythical creature. I am guilty of murder, illegal breeding of magical animals, the imprisonment of sentient non-human beings, and of causing the apocalypse for my own selfish reasons. Death by the revoking of that which made me immortal.
Fourth. I was the queen of a trollish tribe. I am guilty of conspiracy, treason, murder, and the sale of children from my tribe to ensure my own safety. Death by drowning.
Fifth. I was the son of a noble family on an alien planet, driven mad by the sound of drums and turned completely deranged. I am guilty of murder, torture, war crimes, planetary annihilation, the extinction of several races, mass genocide, mass murder, child murder, blackmail, crimes against peace, animal cruelty, all forms of abuse, emotional terrorism, tyranny, replacing most of humanity with clones of myself, multiple attempts to kill the only other remaining member of my race, terrorism, attempted destruction of earth, killing several other iterations of myself, and of general villainy. Death by running out of time.
Sixth and last. I was a boy trapped within walls, grown into a man hellbent on revenge. I am guilty of mass murder, child murder, genocide, nigh-omnicide, war crimes, terrorism, high treason, breach of authority, abuse of power, libel, assault and battery, blackmail, usurpation, kidnapping, mutilation, desertion of a military post, sowing discord, insurrection, crimes against peace, animal cruelty, cannibalism, psychological abuse, conspiracy, brainwashing, crimes against humanity, and sexual assault (lying to a friend in order to impregnate her). Death by beheading.
I have no excuses for my actions. I have no explanations either. I have certainly done other horrible things in the name of protecting others, in the name of defending myself, in the name of defending my home, my planet, my kingdom, my dimension. But those were preventative measures. These other things I did because I wanted to. I chose anger. I chose evil. I chose selfishness, ambition, fear, revenge. Sometimes I lied to myself and told myself “this must be done.” Sometimes I gave in to my worst thoughts and urges, released control to the animal inside me. Sometimes I reveled in causing pain, or in the illusioned freedom of wickedness.
I have not come out of these experiences unchanged. I have learned something, I think. Your thoughts do not define you. Your urges do not define you. Your feelings do not define you. The only thing you have to measure your morality by is your actions. Actions have consequences and, by every god out there, I have earned my consequences.
I have often considered people like me, “reformed villains,” if you will. What did it take for them to overcome their guilt and their shame? Did they ever manage it? Did they ever feel like they deserved the forgiveness they were granted? I was only ever forgiven by one man and I often feel that perhaps he only did so because we were the last two of our species, or maybe because he was in love with me. Either way, I did not deserve his forgiveness. I do not deserve forgiveness for anything I have done and regret is worth nothing in the face of the atrocities I have committed.
I’ve wondered. Did Bucky Barnes ever swallow his shame and live free of the guilt that surely weighed him down like a thousand hands pulling at him? Did Zuko ever feel like he made up for his wrongs by changing his kingdom after he was crowned Firelord? Did Dagur the Deranged ever fully accept himself as a changed man instead of punishing himself over his past actions? Did Regina Mills ever truly forgive herself?
I can’t answer those questions. I can only wonder. How is it possible to accept that I’ve changed when I can’t ever go back on my actions, when the people I’ve hurt will never recover? How can I possibly shake off this crushing guilt and learn to live with the shame? How can I forgive myself? And the truth is that I can’t. At least they had the chance to make up for what they’ve done. I can’t fix it. I can’t take it back. Of course I regret it, with everything I am. Sometimes I think that all I have are regrets.
But regrets are worthless. They’re less than worthless. I can’t even say I’m sorry. And even if I could, apologies are worthless too. Apologies cannot bring back the dead. Apologies cannot undo trauma. Apologies cannot unmake what has been made. Apologies do not have to be accepted, and no one is owed forgiveness.
I miss my friends. I miss my families. I know I didn’t deserve to have even met the child I sired, but I didn’t mean to abandon them or their mother. I intended to take responsibility and I would have if I hadn’t been killed. I died before they were even born. I undoubtedly wouldn’t have been permitted to see the child until they were old enough to decide they wished to meet their father, given that their mother was the queen of our land. That’s fair. Understandable. She never even knew I’d lied.
It’s right for you to be disgusted. Horrified, even. You’re free to despise me, hate me, never read another one of my posts again. You could doxx me, ban me, report me, anything you want. I’d deserve it. I’d deserve it all. Just don’t pity me. I don’t deserve that either. I’ve done nothing to deserve pity, all those acts were wrong and I know that.
Philosophies and reminiscing notwithstanding, it’s time for this post to come to an end. I don’t know which tale to relay next, and at this point I hope you understand that I fully deserve the horrors that befell me after all I did. So you choose. If you care to choose that is, tell me if you would prefer to hear about class struggles on an island of Japan that does not exist here and a tale of addiction and superheroes in a different Japan, or about the children of angels in Europe and America.
Signing off again.