Forever Hidden

If you're reading this, consider yourself lucky because you were never meant to read this. No part of this messaged, filled with hatered and despair, was made for the gaze of this filthy world. Even you, dear reader, are no exception to the she and I possess towards humanity-- but why would you care? You never did, anyway. Just enjoy your fucking read.

Content:

Prologue

Present

Gallery

                   

Prologue: Born to Die

"Dear lord, I wish for a daughter no less than god."

That's how it all started, or perhaps, never did. A helpless life, in a defiled world. Alive or dead? Her parents couldn't tell. The infant wasn't moving, she wasn't breathing. Another miscarriage, one could say, if it wasn't for the sudden rush of blood in her now-rosey skin and her infantile wails. A miracle, though I'd call it a curse. Well, that's not something for your simple mind to comprehend. Not yet, at least.

Upon silence, she finally opened those dark, sparkling eyes of her, already observing her surroundings. The limitations in her yet-to-be-developed vision doesn't stop this newborn and her newfound interest. After all, everything was new. New area, new faces-- a pair of glasses? She kept staring at its owner, her father. They made him quite different from the rest of the people in the hospital room. Then, she sensed an embrace, her mother's. It was warm and cozy, a comforting protection against the biting cold of winter. Lastly, she saw a group of anonymous people, with their bodies covered in dark capes and their faces hidden behind beaked masks. What the layers upon layers of fabric hid weren't just their figures, but also the despair forced upon them by the ugly reality, deceiving the blissful ones-- like you.

Soon, other people entered the room, they were the rest of her relatives. Even more of them are covered in those strange, ominous clothes. One of them, perhaps an old one, judging by her wrinkly hands, wrapped a pink blanket around the infant. They all circled her in adoration, observing her with a curosity that matched the newborn. "What's her name?" one of them asked, to which the mother replied-- well, let's just call her Ghosty.

Leaving the hospital, her mother also wore her cape and her mask, though her father didn't. Little Ghosty didn't pay much mind to this detail, for it was the outside world that caught her attention. To her limited senses and understanding, it felt vast and endless-- but also much colder, in every sense. The weather was freezing her tiny nose, making it even redder than her rosey skin. Among the huge crowd outside, there were few to even look at her, let alone adore her, a response much different from the caped nurses'. The whole bustling city seemed to be covered in black and gray, with an endless grief. Over what? A mere, shared delusion, made for all to mourn for. The newborn didn't seem to enjoy it much, understandably so, though she remained silent. Perhaps, if she just closed her eyes and slumbered, she'd wake up in a safe haven once more, so she did.

The child's first dream felt odd and bizzare, a chilling void filled with a thousand stars-- and a million teary eyes, all floating, moving, and distorting around the space. She heard the sounds of an intense, infantile cries of another, for she was silent. Ghosty could see a figure in front of her, that she didn't know at the time just how near identical they both were, except for the figure's sparkly, indigo colored skin and hair. The other child, too, was silent, for she had no mouth to wail, and no eyes to shed tears with. Then, do tell me, clueless one-- which one of us was weeping and screaming in pain? Whatever your answer is, it was neither of the two. Quite obvious, don't you think so? After all, god doesn't feel any pain and doesn't need any help. That's also what you humans believe in, no?

Eventually, the newborn woke up from her strange dream, finding herself in a room far cozier than even the one in the hospital. She could vaguely see her father watching over her, talking about everything in his mind, as if she can understand what he's saying. Unfortunately, Ghosty was still too much of an idiot to understand what a "job" or "teaching" is, so if she somehow managed to understand the language, she wouldn't be able to relate in any way. Well, at least she sensed something huggable nearby, which of course made it more tolerable for her. A pink and yellow cow plushie with a pastel blue scarf, which she happily clung to. After half an hour or so, the dad finally remembered to feed his daughter some baby formula. It took him a while, due to well, everything that was wrong with this man, but he finally prepared and fed her the milk, just when she was about to cry for hunger. "Amazing fathering", he thought to himself. In the end, Ghosty enjoyed her food, so that was all that mattered to her. Hugging her cow plushie closer, she fell asleep once more-- also grumpily spat out her pacifier not even a second after it was given to her.

"It's like she could totally understand me already!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes! I do really wish to stroll out with her--"

"No."

"... Why not?

"[Ghosty] can only be safe here, with me."

Hah, they really thought they can keep her safe from fate. Too bad for them, and too late, I never let Ghosty go, and I never will. Day after day, week after week, month after month. Through many tragedies and little, happy moments, with each shared tear and laughter. Seasons changed, flowers bloomed, the sun grew warm, leaves fell, and finally, January twenty-second arrived once more. In that 365 days, I never looked away from her, for I was waiting for that moment and beyond.

"Happy birthday, [Ghosty]!" Said the mother to her silent daughter, who was dressed in pink. She stared at her cake and candles while she was sitting on her father's lap, a milk bottle present in her chubby arms. She couldn't eat any of the chocolate layers covered in vanilla icing and strawberry decoration, so Ghosty just drank from her milk bottle while her dad blew out the candles for her and sliced the cake for the guests, who are her mother's family.

The party went alright, though Ghosty didn't like how overwhelmed she felt, especially when her parents put her in the embrace of anyone else but them, which made her cry each time. She did feel a little weird, but it wasn't too noticeable for her or made her feel any different.

Soon enough, the awaited moment arrived, her first death. There, Ghosty lied in her crib lifelessly, skin pale and purple. The pain was too excruciating, yet so fast, she didn't have the time to cry out for help. It was too late at night, too late for her protective mother to notice at all. Though, once she did... I admit, I quite enjoyed the scene. Only if she would have still cared, to this day... Well, not that it matters to neither of us now. Where were we anyway?

The morning was a huge pain for both parents. Another one died, much to mother's sadness. How could she die, when she was always protected and taken care of within the house? With whatever hope that was left, the two rushed to the hospital with the corpse in the mother's arms. They ran and ran, until they finally reached the hospital to state the unusual event, but just then, they heard that familiar cries beneath the blanket, again. Alive and breathing, with no damage to the internal organs, for as far as the doctors could detect, upon the parents' persistance to check on their child's health. Some laughed at the two, thinking they've gone mad, while some remained curious, thinking about a logical reason behind it all.

Though, there's none, I assure you. This whole world, with its creatures, are all based on nothing. Nothing, at all. They're born to die, for the hatred and entertainment of me, but I can't get rid of Ghosty, since she's a part of me. So, I will enjoy killing her over and over and over again, each year on her birthday, to remind her of the curse she was given to. Yes, I will torment her and hurt her until she's a million pieces, but still alive. She will go mad, and hate this whole wretched world and us until it consumes her whole, but she won't be able to ever get rid of it, in any way, just like me.

Kind of edgy okay I KNOW I KNOW, BUT this is the prologue of Forever Hidden! It is a long series of my two sonas' backstories and their dynamics together. They both are somewhat inspired based on my own life, actually. Somewhat, since they have to go through it 10 folds worse, or that's how I'd like to put it. There are more chapters to it, featuring Ghosty's growth and goddess' materialization the more mentally unstable, and physically inhuman Ghosty becomes. I'm a bit nervous to mention up the rest, though, so just take this as their first first FIRST origins story. Feel free to review my writing and give any advice for it! :D

⛦Present⛦

Now, she stands in the forest, alone, somewhere away from the bars of the kingdom. Skin pale and gray, as if she's a statue. Her curls now has an indigo tint to it. Its shine and spakles is quite captivating, but some may focus more on her now-dull eye, pitch black without a reflection, as if they're staring into a black hole.

She's leaning towards a more feminine style, compared to her goddess, though her inhuman tallness, her jagged teeth, her skin and her generally unappealing style intimidates people, which she's quite proud of, actually. She did so much to obtain this appearance she now possesses, afterall.

She often felt like she stood out among the rest of the world, due to her ideas being foreign and maddening to everyone-- of how meaningless their whole creation is, how the world sustains and connects to nothing, despite humanity's want and desire for a reason, logically or spiritually, and how they're all just born to die, with their mortal acts having any meaning, it was always wasted.

Ghosty isn't one who backs down on talking about her opinions, though, or even asking others about theirs. She does so in many occasions. Over a tea, on a celebration, at night, or while torturing or executing the person in front of her. She's still allowed to have her whimsy, even if she's an annihilator. Still, outside the opinion zone, she's pretty knowledgeable about many, many topics, that she's often excited to talk about.

She's a leader of a cult only worshipped by the dead, where she's the one who brings death upon everyone in her universe and end the world, like how it was meant to be. She has 2 executioners for that matter, creatures made by its owners' imaginations. The most commonly used executioner is "The Mother", though there's also a joke I once made with my friend about the 2nd executioner being "the 18th monster" who goes after jobless people who just turned 18 and yea I just kept it as a joke aspect with my friends.

Despite her hatred for humans, she still has her own friends and family. Leedo, a creation of a god, from a different dimension. Ghosty doesn't know how leedo managed to just achieve this ability, but she doesn't mind it, as long as Leedo won't get in her way, or even follow some of her orders and spend some tea time over at the usually empty house Ghosty likes to call her cult's place. Not that the dead followers are really visible to Leedo. It's not like she can kill her, anyway. While not caring too much about people, she can't help but feel a close, familial friendship with Leedo, as the two helped each other out in many ways, and Ghosty has seen it herself how much her friend has changed overtime, which she's quite proud of seeing.

In another situation, both Ghosty and Leedo spotted a forest creature, difficult to be seen and even more difficult to touch. Ghosty saw that their attempts at murdering them is futile, so they just... managed to become friends, somehow. Ghosty enjoys Flowered's quiet presence while she talks about, well, many things. Even if they're polar opposites, with many different interests and life styles, they always find something interesting to share. Though, the two really don't know much about each others' pasts, nor do they seem to be very interested in sharing all those many details, really. The three often meet up in the forest, since Flowered likes to stay in those areas.

Ghosty also has 2 children. The oldest one is Regsona, who fell on his head the moment she wished for a real-life, adoptable version of her favorite character in her book. Regsona was way too different from the said character, being too devious and mischevious, which irritates Ghosty, so she often just abandons him in the forest to "grow some survival skills", whenever she's upset at him. Even at the age of 19, Ghosty still has this habit of doing that because, really, Regsona NEVER learns how to follow her mom's orders properly. He's also made of imagination, so he can't really die, but he wishes to be sacrificed in those killing rituals Ghosty got, but the mother doesn't quite know how to explain the truth behind her son's existence to him.

Her second child is called grayard, who she adopted on a whim. She is generally a neglectful yet caring mother, yes, but she has some favoritism towards grayard, often giving them more gifts, going out on family trips and even letting them turn into a ghost through her rituals! Wow.. well, not like grayard can stay as a ghost permanently, Ghosty made sure of that.

Yes, these are all my friends' personas and we just made the lore for fun, the backstory is literally what I write whenever I'm sad and the present is just jokes with my friends for the whimsy, literally don't take any of it more than a hobby. Also, I might add, remove, or change some parts here in the future, just so you know.

The mentioned friends: Leedo, Luci, Reg, and Fourier. You can find their socials linked in the first left icon, in the 3rd/support section.

Funfacts: Ghosty is supposed to be a more extroverted version of me without much filters in her personality-- No she may murder and she may do some neglectful actions, but she never kills children and she's heavily against it-- Her belief is simple: "Not this nor that, may the entire world explode, amen."

⛦Gallery⛦