Masks 2

The helmet was cold, and too tight, and white-hot with pain. Somewhere in the corner of Siren’s mind she was screaming. She had been screaming for thirty years. Helpmehelpmehelpme-The voice in her head is so big she feels dwarfed by it, shoved into its shadow. FuckyouyoutentacledbastardfuckyouforeverIswearwhenI’mfree-

Then the Voice stops, and she’s finally screaming with her actual voice.

“AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA-”

Flashes of memory come back, each one bringing a new wave of agony. Cheerleading practice in high school, the first time she put on that shiny white costume, the first time anyone treated her like a hero, the feeling of ice-cold water and the complete dark of the Deep. She tumbles sideways, landing sprawled on the slimy stones of the temple city. It's slick with water and blood. Her spear is gone, left inside the guts of two of her enemies –

Rescuers –

Heroes-

Heroes. They were heroes. And that made her…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”

Siren curls up into a ball and just goddamn screams. Cause, fuck.