[mature] Flash. Give me amnesia. [Open]

[Scyla]

I'm an invisible monster, and I'm incapable of loving anybody. You don't know which is worse. Her mind was a blank slate, devoid of the pain that was caused by the one person that she thought would always protect her. Always love her. Dahmer...how could he? Violated, her mind had forced her to stop, allowing her to crumple on the beach. How long she had been there was unclear, but the nudging and the whisper in her ear roused her only slightly. Her mind rebooting and almost instantly replaying the trauma that happened only hours (or was it days?) before. A wing raises and then gives up almost as soon as it was raised, the only sign that her consciousness was returning to the creature. Brown eyes open, and her sight was blurry for a moment, the world swirls and then comes into sharp focus. She startles, stumbling to her feet with her wings flapping uncontrollably before falling down. She didn't bother to raise them to her sides, and instead she allows them to linger on the sand. Everything was sore and the sting of the ocean burned through most of her body, but the bodily pain was little in comparison to thoughts in her mind. Head slung low, she slowly remembers that she got home, Tephra's shores are where she had made it to. Or at least, that was what her mind perceived, though it was unclear if she could trust her mind anymore. She looks at the other, a mare she did not recall or know. Was it the kindness of strangers that Scyla would now rely on? The gray tovero, blood stained, covered in a mixture of wet sand and blood. Sweat and the residual alcohol from the apples. What a mess! Her mother had been right about her. She was good for nothing, a simple pawn in the world's design and destined for nothing but pain and whatever else someone wanted from her. Finally, her dried tongue finds words and she glances at Femur. "Am I in hell?" Destined to relieve everything over and over again. Punishment for her creation. Perhaps this was the creature that would escort her to her immortal prison, or the one to carry out the punishment. Either way, she was resigned to her fate and had no fight left in her.

@[Femur]