Disrating

"Don't think about it, it won't happen. Don't think it's here, it's not. Don't talk about it, it doesn't exist. You don't hear their words, they're the only thing you've ever heard. It's okay to speak their names, they know you. It always has been, you always knew it. It's finally happening."

-Notes scrawlled in the dark caves just outside The City of Glaion near the Vilothric Mountians.

There were six of us when we walked in. I don't know now, has there always been that noise in here? That thumping needs to stop, that metallic banging. I can't stand it. My head hurts, can't sleep with it. There were five of us in the morning. My head hurts, taste of blood in my mouth. What is that writing on the wall? I can't read it, I can't. That banging won't stop.

There were four of us by night. That banging is quiet now, I can sleep. Her sweet voice in my mind, calm now. There were three of us by morning, my hands covered in dirt. She told me to do it, it was a good idea. She told me it was alright, that they would be fine. I know she wouldn't lie to me. There were two of us by night.

She told me there was no shame, I only needed to listen to her. There were six of me by morning.

That door was closed, wasn't it? It was locked, there was no one here. I don't have to tell myself it's real, that door was closed. The air is sweet, and my mind is clear. I know I'm fine, she tells me so. My hands are not my own, but they are. Claws dragged against the door I opened. I know my hands, these are mine. I always had these, why are you saying I haven't? I don't understand, what do you mean I'm not me?

What do you mean there were six of us? This house is empty, there is only me. She told me so. I am hers, I am here, I am theirs. What do you mean The Shadows are wrong? What do you mean I hurt you? That's not your blood on my hands, no it's not. Ẉ̵̧̙̺̹̞̜̝͓ͭ̋̿̏̊́̑̔̑͋ͬ̔ͨͩͦ̈́̌̅͠ĥ̶̵̡͔̱̘̣̥̥̠̬̔ͥͨ̑̊ͤͤ͆̿̕̚ā̷̡̨̨̠̣͖̳͚͉̉̆͐̈͆̄ͧ̈͊ͫ̔̋_̮̮̪̣̩͈͇̯̥͓͕̈́̀͌͌́ͬ̔̾ͬ̀͡͠t̨̛̮̘͕̳͉͙̺̻̖͎̙͎͓̩̩̼̣̻̞̦͕̄͒ͦ͒̇ͥ͊ͤ́̔ͭ̑ͦ̕̚͞͡͞͞ͅ d̸̢̞̳̯͍̮̱̼͍͎͕͍̦̼́ͨ͆ͣ̽̀ͧ͑ͫ̓ͤͥ͘͠ȍ̤̰̮ͥ̔͛ͮ́͛̊_̲̼̞̎̉̀̋͆͝ y̸̡̝̝̦̦̮̬̲̬̣̘ͭ̅̋ͫ̉͑͟o̪̺͉̙̬̬̍̃͑ͯ̔ͩ͗́͘u̵̝͑̀͘͡͝ m̡̰̻̍_̶̰̼͇́ͯ̍̈ę̗͕̰̮̘̇͒ͫ̽͜͟å̶̶̢̘̌̓̎͞n̷̼̜̲̰͚͔̟͔͓̓̎̓̎ͬͧ Ì̴̶̵̢̛̝̬͍̼͚̘̠̪͙͉̥̘̽ͥ̓́̒̊͘̚͟͞ͅ'͕̬͎̹̩͔̮̽͒ͩ͌͑̍͌m̸̢̨̨̠̻̗̯̥̘̎̄̈̊ͯ̀̿̎̈̽͒̔̒ g̡̦͚̜̫̦̈́̋̕o̵̥͕̬̮͂͗͂̄ͭ͗͂͌͛̌͊͟ͅǹ̸̪͍͜é̼͔̒̓́̾_̵̡̛̫͖̻̹͎̭̗̟̙͍̗̜̙͈̓͗ͭ̔ͤ̓͂̆̐ͣ̋̃̓̕͘͢?̴̸̠̹̲̭̬͙̖̲͇̤͌̂͑ͪ̽͑̀́̕͜͞_͕ͪ