Lost in a seemingly endless expanse of nothingness floated a solitary mass of land. It looked as if a mountain range had been pulled from the earth and left floating in a void. Bedrock ended in nothing but jagged spikes, making its appearance more akin to a diamond than a mountain. Adorning its lower reaches was a lush forest one might call beautiful were it not for the absurdity of the surroundings.
However, by far the most striking feature of the mountains was a massive ruin nestled on a valley side. Massive buildings of ancient stone towered over each other as if in competition to see which could reach the stars. The buildings twisted and melded together in unnatural shapes, and the structure seemed too big to have been made by the hands of humans. The building and surrounding landscapes appeared to be washed out as if each color was forbidden from displaying its full splendor.
One section of the massive structure resembled a keep, tall and solid. The roof of the keep was flat and allowed one to walk around it and admire the view of the surrounding mountains. It was there that a young man sat on a stone bench.
Dean's eyes focused on something nearby, his lips drawn in a straight line. He had recently learned who he was thanks to a strange book that told a story with him as a character in it. Thanks to that book, he was rebuilding his sense of self. Though much remained amiss, he had remembered one crucial fact: he was meant to be here.
With little to do as he awaited the next book, he revisited the site of his not-so climatic confrontation with Nicolas and Maria.
He was surprised when he spotted a specter of a young woman standing on the edge of the roof. The figure was familiar to him, and he couldn't help but call out in surprise when he first laid eyes on her. However, she gave no indication that she had heard him.
The young woman in question was Maria. She stood right on the spot where she and Nicolas had jumped.
She was transparent and made no sound. Her actions, however, told Dean everything he needed to know. Frantic flailing about, clawing motions and what appeared to be manic laughter interrupted brief moments of stillness. She didn't seem to notice his presence at all. Dean's muscles tensed as he watched.
Addi and Rosetta's deaths had broken something in Maria, and she murdered countless people in some twisted form of revenge. During that life, he resolved himself to kill her and Nicolas in order to save everyone else. However, now that he had time to contemplate, he wondered if there was a deeper reason they had turned to such a path. Was there something in her past that would cause her to act out so violently? Most people didn't turn into killers just because their loved ones died.
Unfortunately, his self in that book had failed to get to the root of the problem and so he was left at a loss. Multiple times, he had tried to get her attention, but nothing seemed to work. It seemed he wouldn't get any information from her ghost either.
"Have you developed an interest in madwomen? Look at her, scuttling about like a rabid dog. I honestly thought I had locked her up, and yet here she is again."
Dean closed his eyes and sighed, ignoring the person who had suddenly appeared behind him. After all, there was no black book in her hands, and he didn't feel like keeping her company.
"My, is she so captivating that my existence fades to nothing by comparison? Is that why you ignore me?"
Dean calmly turned to face the figure behind him. He knew that ignoring her when she was in this mood would prove fatal.
"It's rude to sneak up on people like that, Goddess." He said, lacing the word 'Goddess' with as much mockery as he could.
The cloaked figure chuckled. Her black, bone-dry hair swayed slightly as it flowed down from beneath her hood.
"Forgive me, I was worried your mind had wandered off again, so I came to check on you. You sometimes zone out for long periods of time, and that makes me lonely," Tatiana said with a short giggle.
Dean returned his gaze to Maria. She had calmed down again and was now looking out at the surrounding landscape.
"Why not look at me instead? Surely I'm better company than that beast?" Tatiana asked, getting much too close to him and wrapping her bony arm around his shoulders.
Dean chuckled dryly.
"Looking at you would probably make me lose my dinner, if I had had any."
Tatiana made a growling sound, and for a moment he was worried she might attack him again. If she did, there was little he could do to stop her from tearing him apart. Luckily, she seemed to be in a good mood today.
"The outside mirrors what is within, my dear Dean," Tatiana replied cryptically.
He thought he could hear a little hurt in her usual cheery voice, but he didn't care to think about it. A being such as she wouldn't understand human emotions.
Dean muttered a few choice curses under his breath. He wasn't going to get any more information here it seemed. Sighing, he got to his feet and with one last glance at Maria, turned towards the door which led downstairs.
"I come to greet you after so long and you walk away? How rude! I can see you are not quite back to your old self," Tatiana said as they left.
"Well, at least your one remaining eye still works! Yeah, I'm just trying to sort out all these thoughts and memories. That's all thanks to your work, you know," Dean responded.
"Such harsh words. You yourself desire my books, so why take it out on me?"
"Ah, I'm just bored. That's all."
Truth be told, he didn't know how to act around Tatiana. She was cruel and despised him and his friends. The part of him that had lived through her book wanted to destroy her for her cruelty, but he knew better. For his greatest desire, she was indispensable. As horrible a being as she was.
The stairway down to the library was rather plain and utilitarian in stark contrast to the grand library itself. Once he was on the highest floor of the library proper, he could look down on the floors below through the central space of the building, which was left open. The various floors contained countless bookshelves, reading areas and study rooms. He began making his way down the seemingly infinite spiral stairs, surrounded by inconveniently high bookshelves.
"Ah yes, many a debaucherous party occurred here in my book, did it not? Was it not amusing seeing Nicolas attempt to control the chaos caused by Maria?" Tatiana asked fondly as she followed him.
"I've seen better parties after funerals." Dean replied. "That was nothing but a bunch of drug addicts causing trouble."
The so-called parties Maria had organised were little more than a way to control a large group of people and incite them to violence for her own ends. True, Nicolas had been the figurehead of that little faction, but Maria was the real brains behind it.
"But is that not what made it exciting? Seeing how certain hallucinogens can make people do what they would never consider under normal circumstances?"
Tatiana was almost giddy with glee as she recalled the mess that had transpired here. It made Dean's stomach hurt just remembering it. People really did lose all reasoning when they mixed drugs with alcohol like that.
"Sounds to me like you'd fit right in. Maybe you should give it a try and see how loopy you get," Dean muttered.
Tatiana shook her head.
"No, something like that is far below me. Below us," she said. "We don't need such substances to enjoy ourselves when we exist in a wonderful place like this."
They continued walking for some time, Tatiana doing much of the talking. The library in this place was very different from the more realistic version within the books. The biggest different was its sheer size. Dean estimated the time to reach the bottom floor to be about forty-five minutes.
Reaching the bottom, he found himself standing on a path between bookshelves. Countless paths wound in and around the bookshelves in a seemingly endless room. In front of him, opposite the staircase, was a large wooden double door. With both hands, he pushed them open, revealing the courtyard outside. Many strange objects dotted the garden, from old electrical appliances to ancient statues of long dead kings. A somewhat familiar fountain sat in the middle of the courtyard. Blood-red water flowed from the mouths of ugly gargoyles adorning its center. It was a disgusting facsimile of the fountain from his memories.
There was no snow or breeze, and Dean felt neither warm nor cold, just as he had in the library. It was a strange feeling, missing the concept of temperature.
"Where are you going now?" Tatiana asked, growing bored as she yawned into her hands.
"Lovely day for a walk, isn't it?" Dean replied,
"You really can't sit still for a moment, can you?" Tatiana asked.
"Well, not like there's much else to do when you're immortal. Besides, you haven't finished your newest book yet, have you?".
"Brilliance takes time, my dear Dean," she said calmly.
Dean grunted and turned away from her. Sometimes he wondered if she kept the books away just to torture him.
Walking up a hill away from the courtyard and passing a graveyard, he came to another great doorway. This one sat at the highest point on the monastery grounds and was the entrance to the cathedral. It was difficult to tell where buildings started and ended here. They all seemed to blend together into one massive mega-structure.
"Going to pray to me, are we?" Tatiana said with a wicked grin. "I do love listening to the prayers of my followers. They really think I will grant whatever selfish wish they have."
Dean stepped inside. The impressive stone-carved columns, statues and arches decorated with a myriad of living plant life gave one the feeling of stepping into an ancient forest. As Dean looked around, he wondered how such a place could look so washed-out and dead.
"Ah, I remember. That old coot Methaeus met a grizzly end here," Tatiana commented happily. "Stabbed, cut and gutted like a fish!"
That smile hadn't left her face. If anything, remembering that violent scene seemed to fill her with further joy.
"Can you shut the hell up?" Dean snapped, finally coming to the end of his rope. "Did you actually enjoy watching the old man being butchered?"
"But of course, watching the mighty fall is a favorite hobby of mine. But is that so unusual? People watch violent movies or read horror for easy entertainment all the time, so I don't see why you must chastise me over what is essentially the same thing."
Dean had read many a book in his time. Watching characters struggle with conflict was the very essence of enjoying fiction. Some succeeded in finding their happy ends while others failed entirely and were forced to find a new path or give up on everything. It was all done in the name of entertainment or to convey a message.
"This was different," Dean answered. "Those were just stories. This was...this was different." He said, unable to think of a convincing argument.
Methaeus had felt like a living person, someone Dean had known all his life. To see him being torn apart by Nicolas of all people was too much.
Dean paused.
No, this wasn't right. It was the way Tatiana was looking at him that made him stop and think. Those were the thoughts of the version of himself within the book. They should have no impact on him now. Methaeus was a character, just as Tatiana had said. He tried his best to quell the anger and disgust that had taken hold of him. It held no value to him now.
"Even after the long break I gave you, you still can't seem to separate your mind from your other self. Perhaps I made the story too familiar," Tatiana said while scratching her chin. "In any case, they are just fictional characters and horrible people besides. You need not mourn them, Dean."
She was right, though he made sure not to let his agreement show. The people in the stories had nothing to do with him or the reason he was here. Best to keep them at arm's length. That's what he told himself in an effort to repress the sadness deep within his heart.
Dean continued past the many columns to a doorway at the side of the nave. He did his best to avoid looking at the altar where Methaeus had died.
Beyond the doorway was a corridor with stairs going up to the cathedral offices. He passed them and entered the room beyond the stairs. This room had another set of stairs going underground.
"You certainly pick the most interesting places for a stroll," Tatiana muttered.
The stairs leading down to the catacombs were much darker than the ones he remembered in the book. Ghostly images faded in and out of the darkness, and disturbing sounds that resembled crying children and moaning animals echoed in the distance. He noticed blood trickling down the walls and sighed with a look of distaste. He once asked Tatiana about the strangeness of this place, but apparently even she didn't know why it appeared this way.
Carved stone floors and painted walls eventually gave way to rougher, more natural facades as they made their way further underground.
"Oh, that's right, you forced Rosetta to come all the way down here just so you could find a way to contact the outside world," Tatiana said, laughing softly.
Dean felt himself bristle despite himself. The entire ordeal had been difficult for Rosetta, especially her encounter with Maria. That was probably why she had done what she did. No, there was no point in thinking about that now.
"Hey, can't a guy get some peace and quiet on his stroll?" Dean asked, doing his best, and failing, to sound calm.
"What? Have I struck a nerve? I believe I have the right of it. It was you who selfishly brought her down here in the first place, all because you wanted to play hero."
"Getting the authorities involved was the smartest thing to do at the time," Dean answered evenly.
Of course, knowing what he did now, trying to contact the outside world had been a fool's errand from the beginning. But there was no way the version of himself within the story would have known that.
"Running to an external force for help. That's rather unlike the old you. To see the hero fall to such lows is positively heartrending!" Tatiana said in a mocking tone.
Once she finished her theatrics, she gave him an unusually expectant look, as if waiting for him to say something specific. Dean didn't like what he was hearing one bit. Having his mistakes presented in front of him by this cloaked harlot was getting on his nerves. She was, in essence, his judge, jury and executioner, and he needed her. Loathe as he was to admit it. Was she truly the goddess they worshiped in the books? If so, they desperately needed to find a new one.
As he walked along the halls of those long dead, a strange doorway appeared off to the side. It had been left open slightly, and what was inside caught his attention.
Behind the door was a giant cavern that contained, well, nothing. Not empty, but a literal blank space, as if the very fabric of reality had been erased, leaving nothing behind but a black void. The stone that made up the cave continued for a bit before ending in sharp, jagged angles, and stray rocks seemed to float in the nothingness.
"What is this?" Dean asked, his voice almost failing him.
He kept a good distance away from the edge. Just looking at the gaping hole was twisting his stomach into knots. He did not want to imagine what would happen if he fell into it.
Tatiana turned oddly silent and was also keeping her distance.
"Well?" Dean pressed.
Again, there was no answer. He considered pressing the issue but decided that having her go quiet was much more preferable to finding out something that could further ruin his mental state. He had enough on his plate as it was. Deciding it would be a pain to ask about it, he moved on.
Both he and Tatiana now walked in silence. After a few moments, Dean was surprised to find that he didn't like it. Unlike the living world of the story, this place had no natural sound.
Usually, you would hear water dripping or the echoes of wind, but there was nothing here, save for their footsteps that didn't echo. The sound of his heart beating in his chest was almost deafening.
"Argh! I can't stand this silence anymore!" He shouted aloud.
To his surprise and satisfaction, Tatiana actually jumped a bit before quickly regaining composure and giving him a stern look.
"I have to agree." Tatiana replied. "Now do you see the benefits of pleasant conversation, Dean? It keeps us from going completely insane."
He tried to think of something productive to talk about, but something interrupted him. A gentle melody of light, slow notes sounded out from behind him. He turned around to find Tatiana holding a music box.
"This feels much nicer, does it not?" She asked with a knowing smile.
Dean stared at the music box.
"Where'd you get that from?"
The music box was made of gold leaf, and a girl in a dress spun around on a small platform at the top as it played its melody.
"I wished for something to chase away the silence, and it appeared for me," she said simply
"So what? You just willed it into existence?" Dean asked. He looked down at her black robes, scanning for a pocket.
"I am a goddess, my dear Dean. A great one of immense power and control. Is it that hard to imagine that I have the power of creation?" She asked with a condescending tone.
"Yes. For one, a goddess wouldn't go around writing books for a lone, pathetic man and conversing with him constantly like a lonely child."
"I'm not lonely!" Tatiana said defensively.
Dean turned and walked away, primarily to hide the satisfied smirk that he couldn't keep from appearing on his face. It was rare to get that kind of reaction from her.
Suddenly, his foot caught on something, and he tripped. He just barely managed to stick his hand out before his face smashed into the floor. He scanned his surroundings, looking for a loose stone or some other object. Sadly for him, the floor was completely flat, and Tatiana was cackling quietly to herself.
"Very mature," he muttered, glaring at her.
A sharp pain pierced his gut out of nowhere, and he doubled over, crying in agony.
"Careful, Dean. I may be soft on you, but insulting a Goddess is still a grave sin, you know."
The pain subsided, and Dean was given the chance to get to his feet. He had been tripped and felt the pain of someone kicking him in the stomach, and yet she had not moved a muscle. If she had the power to do that, then he truly was at her mercy.
"Noted," he grumbled, dusting himself off.
Tatiana simply huffed in response.
They eventually reached a familiar junction within the catacombs. Looking down one direction, he could see two rows of cells on either side cut off from the hallway by iron bars. He set off in that direction.
"So this is where you were going," Tatiana whispered with an air of disappointment.
Dean continued forward until he reached a heavy wooden door at the very end of the walkway with a small square hole protected by iron bars. The isolation chamber. He pushed the door open, and it opened without resistance.
Inside was a completely empty room, save for a pair of chains attached to the cold stone wall.
"Cait," he whispered to himself, bringing memories of the young woman he had found here in the last story to mind.
Her frail, half starved body, covered in wounds. He recalled how, for some reason, Rosetta and everyone else had treated her like scum for no apparent reason.
He continued to stare right at the place he had found her. No matter how long he looked, she would not appear before him..
"You will not find that creature so easily. In fact, you should give up. You do naught but waste your time," Tatiana said with a bored expression.
Dean clicked his tongue. He was hoping that if he searched hard enough, he could find specters of other characters, just like he had with Maria. He could not recall seeing anything quite like her before, and perhaps there would be some information to be gained from her if he could just get her to talk. Then again, her appearance could just as easily have been a sign of his madness.
As Dean stared into the empty room, memories of Cait flooded into his mind.
"Why was she down here in the first place? Nobody could give me an answer, not even the person herself," he whispered to himself, once again trying to keep the dead silence at bay.
Everything about Cait felt off somehow. Like she didn't quite belong in the same category as the other characters. Her presence even seemed to warp their personalities. Along with looping back to the monastery when he had attempted to escape, she was another great mystery of the previous story.
"Stop thinking of that wretched whore like she was some princess in distress!" Came a cold, harsh voice from right behind him.
Shocked at the sudden change in tone, Dean turned to find Tatiana staring directly into his eyes. Gone was the usual insane smile, replaced by gritted teeth and a single glaring eye.
"What's gotten into you? Wait, don't tell me she's warping your opinions too?" Dean asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," Tatiana snapped with a smile that showed all her teeth. "That one, she deserved every ounce of pain she experienced, and I promise you now, she will continue to suffer well into the future, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it!"
Tatiana's enraged voice echoed throughout the dark cave, but Dean stood firm.
"Looks like she gets under your skin, eh? A little pathetic for divinity, don't you think?" Dean said with a smirk. "Hell, she'd make a better Goddess than you. Why don't you-"
The next moment, Dean was flying towards the stone wall. He felt himself come to a sudden stop, and everything went black.
*
Dean slowly opened his eyes and looked around. The cold stone walls and heavy door suggested that he was still in the isolation chamber. He blinked as he tried to focus and felt something wet on his fingertips. He brought them in front of his eyes only to find them covered in a red substance.
"Blood?" He murmured.
With a jolt of surprise, he sat up. He tried to recall what had happened. They were talking about Cait and Tatiana had quickly grown angry. What had she done to him?
Around him was a large puddle of blood. He turned his back and was greeted by a horrendous sight. Pieces of what could only be a person stuck to the wall in globs of bleeding flesh. Looking away quickly, he spotted Tatiana. She stood some distance away looking at him with her single eye.
"What did you do?" He asked.
"I may have used a little too much force and splattered you across the wall, my apologies," she said with a chuckle.
Dean looked down and behind him. The entire back wall of the room had been covered in blood.
"You really got to stop doing that," he whispered.
That's right. Death didn't exist in the place. Even if you were pulverized, you'd come back, eventually. Tatiana often took advantage of that fact whenever he angered her. He had forgotten, and that had resulted in a lot of pain.
"Fool, I can bring you back as often as I please. Why not use it to punish you when you step out of line, hmmm?"
That's right, she had done this to him before after he had refused to strangle her. He hated that he was already forgetting something that was so relatively recent. Living many lives really had a terrible effect on his mental state.
Dean felt himself shiver despite the lack of any cold. Dying was not entirely alien to him. Even so, it never became any easier, and the sight of all his blood on the wall made his stomach clench.
"I really did touch a nerve, didn't I?" Dean said, instantly regretting his loose tongue.
"Perish the thought," Tatiana said calmly. "The mention of that woman's name simply irked me slightly."
"I see," Dean said.
He thought it might be better not to mention Cait's name again unless he was ready to become human stew. Though it might be worth it just to see her lose her temper again. He stashed that thought away for future consideration.
As he made to leave through the doorway, he struck an invisible wall and fell on his rear end.
"What the?" he muttered, rubbing his nose.
"I have some good news for you. While you were dead, I decided to go finish the next book for you. You'll be coming with me now."
Dean turned to her quickly, eyes wide. How long had he been dead? No, it didn't matter.
"It's finished? Where is it?" He asked, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice.
Tatiana smiled.
She clicked her bony white finger, and the surrounding scenery shifted. Damp and dark cave walls gradually transformed into bookshelves, and an ornate desk sprouted up from the ground. Dean soon realised that he was standing on carpet and looked around. His surroundings had changed into a familiar place. It appeared to be the study room in the guest house, although this one appeared much older, with no modern fittings. On the desk was a book with a black leather cover.
"Finally," he whispered.
He placed his hand on the cover, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. Another book, another life and another tragedy. He anticipated it greatly.
"Is it too much to ask that you write me a book about being stranded on an island full of beautiful women?" He joked, trying to dispel some of the tension within himself.
"Certainly, I shall ensure they are all cannibals and make you watch as they devour your friends one by one." Tatiana responded, her arms folded.
"I see, and you're going to meddle in this one too?" He asked.
"Oh, you'll just have to wait and see."
Once again he looked down at the book and placed his hands on the edge of the cover, feeling its smooth leather surface. As he did so, Tatiana took a step towards him.
"The pressures of life can drive even the kindest soul to bloodshed," she said. "What can a person do when they are driven into a corner by circumstances beyond their control? Can a mother's love keep them safe? Can a friend's hand save them?"
Tatiana reached her hand out and placed it on his.
"Witness the sins of those who once called this place home and remember who you are. Above all, don't forget, I'll be watching, always watching."
Before he could say another word, she pulled at his hand, forcing the book open. Dean's surroundings warped, and he slowly forgot himself as he fell, once again, into another life.