Chapter 1 

Screams echo through the dark room, blood leaking from the boy’s ankles. He hunches forwards, sobbing and begging them to please just stop hurting him. Anything they want, he would do for them. Anything. 

But all they want is his suffering.

And they always get what they want.

“Yes!” The woman cries, taking a step back from the boy and smiling at her handiwork. She etched the boy’s name into his chest, and the woman grins as blood slips down from each letter.

“Beautiful work, my love,” the man tells his wife, kissing her cheek before looking at the boy; the man’s expression completely blank. “Let’s leave Robert for now - we have many more whom we don’t have to worry about accidentally killing.”

The woman pouts, stepping forwards and grabbing the boy’s ankles, squeezing hard. Robert lets out a whimper of pain, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Wouldn’t you like to see how funny his walking is now though? Come on darling, it’ll be fun,” the woman coos, unchaining the boy from the wall and pulling him forwards. The abrupt movement causes some blood to flick from the wounds on his arms and land on the woman’s dress.

She screams, grabbing the boy’s hair before slamming his head into the cold stone floor. “How dare you sully my clothing,” she hisses, stamping on his ankle again and again until a sickening crunch resounds through the room.

The man sighs, taking his wife’s arm and pulling her backwards. “Calm down, dear. I’ll get you plenty of new dresses. There’s no point in making Robert walk - we already cut his achilles tendons, and now you broke his ankle. It won’t be amusing to watch, it will just be pathetic. Come on, there’s the others who need to our attention,” he says smoothly, like he isn’t talking about torturing more innocent children.

“We’ll be back later, Robert. We will always be back,” the woman whispers in the boy’s ear, fastening his chains back to the rings on the wall of the basement.

The boy cries silently, afraid that if he makes a single sound, his parents will come back again.

—————

Scilla’s body bolts upright, and she curls her arms around herself, making a soft sound. “What’s wrong?” She whispers to me, stroking through her hair softly. We established that since we share this body now, when she comforts herself, I can feel it too.

She wishes that she could hug me, because she can feel the anguish in my soul. 

“It was just a- a nightmare,” I whisper into her soul, wishing that I could cry.

Scilla cries for me, instead.

She doesn’t go back to sleep after that, instead staying awake to talk to me. She tells me about her life, and her hopes for the future. Even though I know it all, every aspect of her being. Our souls are one, so I know it all.

What we have also discovered, is that if I know everything in her soul, she knows everything in mine.

She saw my memory. 

Only one, because it is the only memory that has come back to me. 

“Robert?” Scilla whispers gently, but I shake my head so forcefully that Scilla’s head also shakes from side to side.

“Please, never call me by that name. It isn’t- it isn’t me. My old body is dead, and since I don’t remember much…I might as well start again, right?” I ask softly, still shaking from the memory slightly. 

I was in so much pain. 

Is that how I died? Did I die that night? Did my parents kill me?

Those people were my parents. 

If I am an evil spirit, then what does that make them? Devils, it’s got to be. But I know that there are only two types of spirits: good ones and bad ones.

And Grim Reapers, but they aren’t really spirits. Spirits are people who were once alive, but Grim Reapers…they never lived. They were brought into existence as Grim Reapers, and that is all they have ever been, and all they will ever be.

“Would you like a new name, then?” Scilla asks gently, running her fingers through her hair and beginning to plait it. It feels nice.

“I don’t know what name suits me though. I know nothing about myself,” I tell her softly. All I know is that I am evil, and that I had horrible parents. And that my old body couldn’t walk. And that I was called Robert. 

But I know nothing about what kind of person I was.

“Hm…well, I know some things about you,” Scilla whispers, moving over to her dressing table and sitting down in front of the mirror. She stares into her reflection, and I stare back.

“You are so, so kind. You heard my soul calling for help, and instead of taking over my body for yourself, you gave me more power, locking yourself inside my soul forever, giving me a friend and support. If that isn’t kind, then I don’t know what is,” she says warmly, reaching out towards the mirror and stroking the glass, right over my cheek.

Her cheek, technically - the reflection in the glass is hers. After all, I don’t even know what my body looked like. I know that I was male, if that even remotely matters. But the first body that I have ever looked out of, really looked through the eyes of…is Scilla’s body.

So, when I look in the mirror, I see both Scilla and myself. Because we are sort of…the same person, now.

“I hope that I am kind, but all I know for sure is that I am evil. I must have done something horrible…but I’m not even sure I want to remember. I was terrified, in that memory. I don’t think I want to remember any of that,” I shiver slightly, causing Scilla to pull the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

“Is it normal, for spirits to not remember? Maybe it’s a good thing, as you said. From that memory…I get the impression that you hardly got to live much of a life. But we can now, together!” She says enthusiastically, smiling at me brightly.

“I’m not sure. I think spirits are supposed to remember, so that they can reflect on their evil actions for the rest of eternity? But I can hardly reflect if I have no idea what I did that was so sinful,” I mutter, pulling the blanket up again when it starts to slip off Scilla’s shoulder.

It’s slightly odd. I don’t have control over Scilla’s body, but sort of- automatic reactions, I guess. Or maybe it’s things for Scilla’s benefit? I’m not sure. And I can’t tell where that line even is, between Scilla’s actions and my own.

Our souls are fused together, after all.

“Well, if you don’t remember, maybe it’s because you don’t want to. Which I also think is a good thing. Those people are horrible. But this is your new beginning. How about a fun name? Or do you want something that sounds manly? Or we can change names if you want - I’m the only one calling you by it anyway, so I could swap it up all the time, if you like?” Scilla says warmly, staring into my eyes in the reflection.

She is so gentle and lovely, it hurts to know all that she has been through. She deserves far better.

“Something fun sounds nice. And I don’t care for manliness…maybe something fairly gender-neutral would be nice?” I suggest, pondering on it for a moment. What does a name mean to me? I’m certainly no longer Robert - that doesn’t fit me at all now.

Something fun, and light, and-

“How about Jester? You could shorten it to Jess, or Jessie, and then it could also be Jessica too! Gives you lots of options?” Scilla suggests, and a strange feeling blooms in my heart. Gratitude, perhaps? Something I’m unfamiliar with, anyway.

Maybe it’s happiness?

“Yes, I like that. Jess. Short for Jester, and also Jessica. I like it a lot. Thank you, Scilla,” I say softly, looking at myself in the mirror.

Jess. I really do like that.

Who is Jess? 

Who am I? 

Who do I want to be?

I can be anyone. 

I can be exactly who I want.