A Monster Born of Hallucinations

“Willow…”

The voice creaked ever closer, circling around their head in dizzying motions as they curled further into themselves.

“Willow, don’t you hear me? Why won’t you look at me?”

The small child hiccupped between their tears, wet streams running down their face as it got caught on the sides of their nose and the corners of their mouth. But instead of being salty, their tears grew in flavor, until an overwhelmingly foul taste dripped onto their tongue and Willow gagged, choking on their own fluids as they clutched tightly at their stomach. “Go away, please… leave me alone,” they sobbed, holding desperately onto their head as the voice continued flying wildly around them. But it never listened.

It didn’t really have a body, just a mob of a shadowy figure with no defining features other than darkness, and it just wouldn’t leave them alone. It whispered their name, whispered evil temptations that they shouldn’t be thinking…

“Oh look, it’s your sweet baby sister,” the voice cooed, voice dripping with mania and sadism as Willow stared at the young girl before her. She was taking her first steps, and Willow clapped proudly along with their parents as the voice hovered over them, sticky and intoxicating as it leaned heavily into their brain. “Kick her over,” it repeated lushly, voice low and mellow, as if to be convincing. “Crush her face into the floor. Don’t you think knocking over that blob of life would be satisfying?”

“No, no…” Willow shook their head, small voice trembling as they stared at their younger sister taking her first steps forward, horrified beyond all belief. “Why are you telling me to do this?” they mumbled, voice miserable as they tried to keep themselves low enough so their parents wouldn’t hear, tears stinging their eyes as they let out their small plea.

But it was of no use. The voice flashed like a demon before them, diving for their younger sister like a mad vulture as Willow screamed, stumbling backwards until their back hit the wooden floor.

This was supposed to be a happy moment, her baby sister’s first ever steps, and yet they’d ruined it. But in the moment, they were so panicked as they writhed on the floor, clutching at their father’s arms who were swiftly firm around them. “No, no, don’t hurt her… I don’t want her to die, don’t kill her, please… stop it, stop…” they muttered between cries, their parents worried voices like muffled echoes in their ears as their mother went and picked up her little sister.

“Willow, sweetie, look here…” their mother pried, her voice wrapped in a fog as they tried their best to respond. “She’s okay, see? Your little sister is fine, nothing’s coming after her,” she soothed, trying her best to get Willow’s thoughts back on track as they risked a glance at their younger sister’s form. Except, it looked like the demon was possessing her, filling up her body as it meshed into her skin, black claws consuming her sister’s flesh as Willow’s eyes widened, a frantic cry trembling out of their mouth as they clawed at their father’s shirt, desperate for any leverage.

“It’s eating her, it’s eating her,” they repeated, scared out of their wits as they felt their father lift them up, the room spinning and the air smelling oddly metallic as Willow kept letting out wavered cries.

They felt like they were going insane, like maybe they already had. Their mind was dizzy and their head was throbbing and the voice kept laughing, loud and malicious.

“It’s eating her, it’s eating her, she’s going to die…” they wobbled out, but their father merely gave them a firm pat near their spine, his touch being the only thing grounding them in reality as they clutched tightly onto his shirt.

“Shh, it’s alright,” their father told them, his touch solid even as his voice distorted in their ears. Their parents knew that was the case, as their child never did respond to whatever they said when they got into these fits. The only way to reach them was with touch, to solidify their presence right next to their child as they tried their best to let them know they were right there.

But it only got worse as they grew older. Willow was the oldest of three children, with a brother who was three years younger and a baby sister who was younger by five. At first, they’d been so happy to have younger siblings, as they’d always liked taking care of people and nurturing things, but eventually, they began to feel like they were more of a danger to their younger siblings than anything else. There was a time when they’d only been ten years old, and their little brother came up to them with a clay figurine he’d looked so proud to have made, bright smile wrapped around his face as his short grey hair tangled together atop his head.

“Look, Willow!” he chirped, bright and eager as he showed them his best sculpture of a willow tree, and their eyes widened as their vision distorted in front of them, his voice becoming dull in their mind as it droned on and on. “It’s for you! We were making things in class, since it was pottery day, but I wanted to make something for you specifically! You look like you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, so I was hoping it could cheer you up! What do you think? Do you like it?”

He sounded so sincere, but Willow’s breathing was already rapidly increasing, their chest tightening as it felt like their body was spasming out of control. The simple pottery of a tree with blooming branches and shaggy leaves looked like it was turning a sludgy black, the inky tentacles of clay reaching out towards their brother’s hand and molding with his body like the plague. Black splotches formed on his arm the further the clay went, and Willow’s mind panicked as they reached out and slapped the piece of pottery to the ground, the fine artwork shattering into pieces.

The breaking of the fine clay caught their mother’s attention, and she came rushing in as she assessed the damage in a heartbeat. And Willow could barely breathe, vision becoming blurry as they watched the black sludge crawl up their brother’s arm, panic overtaking them as they went to rush forward to try and slap the black warts off, only to be caught right in the arms of their mother, who held them tight as Willow strangled and wailed, fighting with all their might as she grounded them with her touch.

“No, no, his arm! It’s going to fall off!” they screamed desperately, voice shrill and terrified as their brother watched them with wide eyes, fear and concern rooted in his depths.

Would it always be like this? Their family was strong, and they all cared deeply for each other, but… would it always be like this? Would Willow ever be able to live normally?

It got to the point where Willow’s parents took them to a specialist, wondering if there was absolutely anything they could do, or if their child was possessed by some sort of demon. Willow remembered standing there nervously, gripping timidly onto their fathers hand as they watched their mother argue with the priest in front of them.

“No, no, you don’t understand! My daughter can’t keep living like this!” she insisted, slamming her hand against the table as Willow flinched. “She sees things that aren’t there, she’s always talking about a voice telling her to hurt people! But I know my daughter, and she is a good kid, so I want her to be treated! If you don’t know what’s wrong with my daughter, then who will?!” she demanded, and Willow felt the way their father’s firm, steady hand brushed back their grey hair, the touch lulling them into a sense of safety as they listened to their mother’s words.

Something was wrong with them. But they could’ve already guessed that. With the way people looked at them, even their own family, it made sense. They couldn’t leave the house without breaking into another fit, to the point their parents tried to keep them home with at least one of them there at all times instead of going out.

Their little sister didn’t really understand them, and never understood why Willow didn’t want to play with her, but their younger brother had a way of breaching the wall of isolation they tried to put themselves in. He always walked in and made his presence known, and he even remade the willow tree sculpture the next time he got the chance.

Since Willow wasn’t able to go to school, he always told them about his days and what it was like, going into great detail to help get them invested. He expressed that his favorite class was art, and he was always making realistic paintings of their family members for them to keep.

“It’s so you always know what we look like!” he’d exclaimed, and Willow sometimes liked to watch him paint, with the way he was so passionate about it. “I know sometimes you forget what we look like and can’t recognize us, so with these paintings here in your room, all you have to do is look at them and you’ll know exactly who your family is, right?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

It was so meaningful to them, and Willow really did look at the family portrait their brother had painted whenever they felt anxious. And they knew he’d done it specifically for them, because all of his other paintings and pieces of art were far more abstract. But for them, he’d solidified a painting in reality, which was a place Willow was always desperately trying to reach.

And then came their fifteenth birthday. It was their first time going out in public in years, but they didn’t feel too nervous as they held firmly onto their father’s hand and let him guide them around the church, their mother on their other side. Their brother and sister were watching from the pews, and Willow looked back every once and a while to see if they were watching. And whenever he caught their gaze, their brother would give them an eager thumbs up as their sister watched from the side, looking intrigued with the setup as she kept curiously looking around.

This was the day they would get anointed and become blessed with a magical power. Technically, you didn’t need to get anointed by a priest in a church, because as long as you knew the correct chant and special concoction to open up your soul, you would be fine. But Willow’s parents wanted to do things traditionally, and walked their child up to the aisle together, side by side.

They only reluctantly parted when Willow had to go up to the mystifying bowl of liquid, a shiny purple mist sprinkling around its insides as the priest began his chant. And, as per things go, they had to reach inside and scoop a handful of the spiritual water that would unlock their soul and magic, and took as big of a sip as they could.

And then, everything fell silent.

It was mystifying. One moment, their head had been spinning and that same voice had been thundering, but the moment the water entered their system and the chant was complete, it all went away. It made Willow wonder just what kind of peaceful quiet they’d been missing out on.

For the first time they could remember, they felt like they suddenly had a solid footing in reality. There were no more voices, no more strange tastes in their mouth, no more demons spiraling in front of their view. Their mind didn’t feel ready to collapse, their head wasn’t thundering and dizzy and overloaded… and instead, they felt a strange sense of calm.

“May you enjoy the magic the universe has blessed you with, as your soul is now open to the world,” the priest bowed to them, and Willow stared at him for an awkward moment, before mimicking the bow and quickly returning to their parent’s side.

Though, at first, their parents didn’t know what to say. After their child drank that odd liquid that everyone had sipped from at least once in their life after their fifteenth birthday, something in their eyes had changed. At first, Willow’s eyes had always been a soft, muted grey… but now they were a dark, mossy green. It was almost proof of a power, and something about their demeanor had changed, as well. And when her child turned up to face her with such wide, clear eyes, eyes she had never seen look so stable, she nearly broke out into a sob when her child tugged on her hand and went, “Mama, I’m not hearing any voices anymore. And I can see you really clearly.”

Perhaps, it was words they’d never thought they’d hear their child say. Their father had been fully prepared to live with Willow all his life, instead of letting his child leave the nest. He just didn’t think they’d be able to take care of themselves on their own. Like their mind was handicapped, he’d always been fully prepared to take care of them for the rest of their lives. But to hear his child, his eldest, say that they could finally think clearly… it gave him hope. And Willow had never seen their parents happier.

But life could never be so grand. Not for them, at least.

The first time it happened was when Willow’s little sister finally reached out to them for the first time, hoping they could bond. She’d been encouraged by their brother, and she really did want to help their older sibling finally get out of the house. And Willow felt that now that they were getting better, what would be the harm of one little adventure out into society? Especially when their sister had spoken to them so honestly, for what seemed the first time in forever…

“I want to get to know you,” she’d admitted openly, grey eyes zeroed in on Willow’s wide ones, that now shined a moss green. “I know we haven’t been close in the past, but I want to change that now. I’ve never known how to talk to you, truthfully, but… you seem to be doing better now. So would you like to go on a walk into town with me? I could show you some of the shops I frequent,” she offered, voice direct, yet slightly hesitant. And Willow just couldn’t say no to her.

They forgot to consider they hadn’t been to a crowded public space in too many years, because the thought of finally connecting with their baby sister just seemed so appealing. And they followed her into town, thinking everything would be fine, when they abruptly realized something they should have thought about much sooner… they weren’t ready. They weren’t even close to being prepared for this.

They were so used to staying home, so used to their father and mother always being there next to them, and so entirely estranged from society as a whole, that Willow felt themselves far too overwhelmed. They lost their sister in the crowd, knocking into several strangers they tried to walk by, and suddenly, their mind went blank.

A power they could have never expected creeped out of them, a massive monstrosity and waves and waves of darkness leaping up and attacking every person it saw. Like a dark tsunami, waves and waves covered the crowd and possessed them, Willow’s power filling everyone’s mind full of anxious hallucinations of getting lost in a field of demons and monsters out for blood. People started screaming, and Willow started breaking as they collapsed on the spot, their feet losing their ability to move as they collapsed into a tight ball.

The voices were back. They could hear it right next to them inside the raging inferno of black and purple waves, and covered their eyes with desperate hands as they cried out. “No, no, please… mama, papa… I can’t do this…”

Such a dangerous power. And it had only been their first time using it. That day, they’d put an entire town under a massive hallucination about being ripped apart by a mob of demons, and their sister had been one of the victims. Their baby sister, who had only been trying to connect. Their baby sister, who they’d hurt. A member of their family, someone they cared about, someone they wanted to protect and care for… had been hurt by them. Because their power was dangerous. Because they were out of control.

If it hadn’t been for a very skilled set of officials who had managed to get through the hallucinatory wave and knock Willow out cold to get things to calm down, who knows if they might’ve ended up accidentally killing anyone. Luckily, no one had died… this time. But Willow swore there would never be a next time. Valentine, the woman who had stopped their spiral, had given them all the incentive they needed to step up and take control of their power, but even now, it still felt like too much.

Everyone always said they were amazing, that they were powerful, that they were so lucky for having such strong magic. But why did any of that matter? Their parents even seemed proud of what they could now do, of how if they learned to control it, all the things they could make possible.

Like what? Clear dungeons? Keep the common people in line? Willow didn’t want any of that. They couldn’t get it out of their mind, the vision of their baby sister unconscious and lying only a few paces away from them. Her dark toned face, her long black hair all dirty and tangled, the blood of her fingernails from when she clawed on the ground in her fear…

Willow would never forget. Even when her sister forgave her, and said she thought their power was cool, they could never agree. Their power was dangerous. It represented everything they didn’t want to be. They wanted to help, to nurture, to care for… not any of this. The soul was supposed to reflect a person’s true nature, and Willow just couldn’t help but fret… was their true nature really so cruel? In the end, were they really that kind of person?

They were dangerous. They were a threat to society. And for some reason, they were praised for it. And Willow had just never been able to fathom why. Asaya’s invitation had seemed nice and tempting, and in the moment, they’d agreed to it… but their sister’s dark face beaded with sweat still haunted them. The sight of dozens of people all collapsed on the ground as they screamed and cried out for help plagued their mind everyday.

They wanted to help their group, they really did, but… they didn’t want to put anyone in danger. And Asaya just seemed so, so nice, so caring… Willow didn’t want to subjugate her to them and the trouble they were bound to cause. They didn’t want to hurt anyone else who was only trying to reach out. So it was best to not reach out at all. That’s why they’d isolated themselves for years, ever since their power surfaced to be what it was. It was why they’d locked themselves in their room, barely took care of themselves, and barely spoke to anyone, even their family.

Of course, they still felt bad. Asaya had invited them to her dorm that evening, but Willow purposely didn’t go, and instead locked themselves in their room. And the next day, when Asaya asked why, the only thing they could vocalize was a pathetic excuse of, “S, sorry, I… I just… couldn’t do it.”

And Asaya’s expression had twisted a bit, like she was about to protest, which Willow was ready for. They understood if she was mad, or if she wanted to yell. That was okay, they deserved it. They had bailed on her, even though she'd only been nice and kind to them.

But… instead of any of that… Asaya merely put on a small smile, reached out to give their shoulder a few light taps as if to be comforting. “That’s alright. Whenever you’re comfortable, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Uh… right,” Willow nodded, guilt churning in their stomach.

They hated this. They hated themselves and everything they stood for. They hated their soul, their magic, their very existence. Valentine always said they had potential, and that all Willow needed to do was look for it, but… why would they want to look, when the only potential they’d shown so far was for destruction and chaos?

They didn’t want to be that way. They wished they could be as capable as their parents, as kind as their brother, and as forgiving as their sister… they wished their soul had those types of qualities instead. Instead of whatever they’d been born as.

A monster born of hallucinations… was that really all they were? Was that really all they’d ever been? Couldn’t they be anything more?