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Coma

Coma

Waking up from a coma is weird.

In the before, you’re in a prison that you believe you’ll never escape from. Words of reassurance try to pierce the veil of darkness you’re draped in.

But they’re lies, meant to make the speaker feel better about themselves. They give them power over you, because of course they were doing the right thing for you.

In their mind, of course.

The world is confined to your mind, your dreams are your reality, but they’re tainted by the knowledge that you may never awake, never again truly see the colors that dance in your mind.

Then you wake up.

The world is at your fingertips. All of those things you told yourself you could never have are now suddenly possible. You’ve broken free of the prison, and those lies you were told are meaningless.

They can die just as the ones who spoke them.

There’s only one question that you can answer in that moment.

What do I want?

When a person faces that question, that’s when you know who they are.

So I ask now, what do you want, Vigour?

It may not have been literally, but when you escaped your home, you escaped a coma. No longer restrained by dreary hellscapes, you answered the question very quickly, didn’t you?

Parties. Fun. Excess.

You drowned yourself in all of it, letting it take you over to the point that it was all you cared about.

Is that all you are, Vigour? The Prince of Party?

Or do you want something more?

I did the same as you, once upon a time. My awakening ignited my desire to have everything. I reveled in excess.

Excessive parties.

Excessive sex.

Excessive murder.

Like a virgin on her wedding night, I was dripping with want.

But that couldn’t be all I was. Suddenly having everything at my fingertips was exciting for a time, but in truth, there’s way more to life.

So I became something more.

That focus took me from being a wanton bringer of fucking, fighting, and flaying to being the woman I am today.

A Bad Bitch.

A Blackhart.

A World Champion.

The World Champion.

I went beyond the everything at my fingertips, and chose to direct my efforts towards what I really wanted.

Glory. Being the best.

But you can’t seem to do that, Vigour.

It always comes right back to that moment you stepped foot into this glorious realm. It’s all about the excess for you, isn’t it?

You battle back against the lies you were told in your youth, seeking to defeat an opponent that was defeated the moment you opened your eyes and saw color.

You’ve imprisoned yourself in a coma of your own making, this one a kaleidoscope of parties, pain, and pleasure. The only lies you hear are the ones you tell yourself.

You’re the Prince of a Party that’s been over for months.

So let me ask you again.

What do you want?

I know what I want: Your crispy carcass laid out before me, an effigy to excess.

You may have opened your eyes.

But your coma will last forever.