John: "...Monster...that's all I can remember."

The angelic woman frowned at me—not so much about of frustration, but more so disappointment. My missing memories proved to be a bigger problem than initially thought, and her continuously deteriorating patience was proof of that.

Emma: "Maybe we should have given you more time. After all, you're practically as fresh as a newborn right now..."

John: "I'm sorry. I wish I could be of more help, but I just—"

Emma: "It's fine. Don't worry so much, okay?"

Despite everything, she refused to lose her kind attitude, excluded her contorting face which revealed that of perplexity, hopelessness, and a strange sense of loss. Even so, she refused to make it my problem, instead wishing to keep the problems within her own bounds. But, if I extended a hand to her, and offered to help ease that burden, would things truly become easier?

John: "I can keep going. If you just give me a bit more time, I'm sure I can—"

Emma: "You're not on a time limit, John. Take as much of it as you need."

John: "I'm not? Well, then...can't I just go home and...complete this like a homework assignment?"

Emma: "Well—you're not on a time limit, but you are restricted in where you can go."

John: "Like some kind of prisoner?"

Emma: "It's more like we don't know what to do with you just yet. In the meantime, consider our sessions nothing more than 'memory revitalization'; it'll help the both of us."

John: "Revitalization, huh?"

Emma: "Here, I'll tell you what: this next part of your life involves a lot of...switching places. When your younger self was acting, so too was Connie. Write what you can, and listen to what I write afterwards. We can only do this for events where you would bear witness to the outcome of the missed actions—technically, you're not allowed to read these at all."

John: "So why are you trusting me with it?!"

Emma: "You're a special case, okay? Now, repeat after me: when a special event in your life is dictated by the actions of yourself, as well as the people directly involved with the event, you are to read as I record, and then record your own view. Got it?"

John: "Read what you record, then swap to my records."

Emma: "That's right. For things like before you found Jessie's group, however, you are strictly forbidden from reading."

John: "I got it, I got it! Only read what you write if it directly affects my next memory..."

The angelic woman smiled warmly, all sense of hopelessness flushed from her mind. With that, she took out her own sets of writing devices, and awaited my signal.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Connie: "...Monster..."

John: "A...Monster?"

Towering over the young girl, in plain view of myself and Connie, was a creature of haunting detail. Its charred and thick skin seemed barely attached to the thin meat within, covering what little sustenance it harbored. Its entire body, stretching over seven-feet tall, loomed among the bloodstained forest like a guardian of the corpses—or, more likely, their creator. Its eyes, gouged out and yet always staring deep into one's soul, greeted all who saw it with an unsettling sharp smile, and two sets of fanged teeth ready to tear flesh and bones apart at the seams. Its limbs, even more horrific than its rib-tight torso, stretched to an unnatural length, allowing it to be in reach of almost anything it desired; just one arm was enough to stretch from where it stood to the hovering brambles and leaves above that made the canopy—each arm, on its own, perhaps, was ever-so-slightly longer than its entire height, which already grew to nightmarish lengths.

To put it simply, this thing could be called nothing but "Monster", over and over again, for as long as it existed. It had the limbs to reach, the smile to haunt, the stature to creep, and the jaws to feast. If it was created for one simple purpose in this world within the Great Barrier, then that purpose was to feed on the flesh of those unfortunate souls who made up the Blood Swamp.

In front of this Monster, there cowered a little girl—she was maybe half my age—who could do no more to protect herself than simply cling to a pink bear plush, and shut her eyes to the scary world around her.

Girl: "Please...please...please..."

Her silent pleads, growing further apart as time passed on, carried the last bit of will that she held onto. If even that disappeared, then what was left of the girl would be just as her surroundings: an addition to the Blood Swamp.

If anyone can save her, it would be us, right? No...it would be her. It would be Connie. But, she—

Perhaps in even more denial than the little girl, Connie's state of cowering and fear seemed too strong for her to overcome. It was a direct opposition to her attitude just minutes earlier; what would have caused such a stern but courageous young woman to cower like that of a child? Could it be—

John: "Fine, then...If I have to—"

Connie: "N-no!"

It only took a small push for Connie to react, gripping my arm and relinquishing my right to save the child. I had barely even squeaked out the full sentence, and yet she sought for me to cower in the same manner as her.

He wouldn't cower. He would keep going.

John: "Yeah, that's right! I came here to be a hero."

A newfound sense of determination brewing within the depths of my soul, I clumsily vaulted over the fallen tree, which Connie had been using as a hiding spot. As I wrenched my arm away from Connie's grasp, I took a firm grip of my own onto a blade of blackened glass, unsheathing the dagger and holding it underhand. 

The frequency between each step increased, and as I built up speed and determination, the target of the Monster became clearer than ever before. This was my chance to repay all that was given to me, and I would do so by saving the little girl who was in danger.

John: "I plan to keep that promise!"

Step, step, step, STOMP—

On the swing that would have decided the battle's aggressor, the large entity with charred skin, twitching its scathed and torn ears at the sound my growing footsteps, took a quick step backwards and, just barely—

I missed...!

The blade's momentum plunged forward, past the Monster, and into the thick bark of a tree, which the girl had been cowering in front of. Just a few inches away from her face, a black blade had been lodged firmly into the tree, teasing a death that had yet to come. If I was just a little less accurate, or had a bit harsher of a misstep, or, for whatever reason, the Monster had retaliated in full...

I messed up. I messed up. I messed up! I messed up!

What do I do What do I do What do I do What do I do What do I do What do I DO WHAT DO I DO

Monster: "Kkkkkkkhhhhhheazzzzgerasshshinteh?"

In a hoarse and unintelligible tongue, the creature attempted to speak from behind me. Its voice was one that was impossible to understand, speaking in a tone that would strike only fear into the hearts of those who could hear it. There was no empathy behind its voice. No sense of understanding, nor a want to understand. There was only the intention of the act itself. The intention to speak, for the sake of mimicking speech. There was only the intent to scare.

What do I want to do. What do I want to do... W h a t   d o   I   w a n t   . . . 

John: "——!"

It was as if some outer force had taken over my actions, my body, and my will. What I wanted to do, most of all, in that moment...

Whether of my own volition, or the outer force that I felt hanging within me in that moment, my body let go of the blade and twisted around to face the Monster. In the face of such a disgusting waste of life, I felt my left arm raise up, covering the cowering girl's face, as if to protect her. Then, with my right arm, rather than defend myself, I simply covered my own face, leaving only the gleam of my eyes to peek over and into the Monster's missing eye sockets.

What I want.

Most of all.

In a moment such as this.

Controlled by something.

I want to...

Protect.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Connie: "Move, you idiot!"

Flinging forth at an untestable speed, the young woman with fiery red hair, and an even more fiery aggressiveness, let loose a single swipe of her rapier, cutting the air itself apart with her swing. The blade, which under no normal circumstances should have been able to accomplish its job, sliced through the rough and charred skin of a Monster that would have towered over her. 

The creature, reaching out towards the pale boy after his failed assassination attempt, had left its hidden opponent with the perfect advantage in achieving the "first hit". Had the beast been any more cautious, rather than bending down slightly to achieve closeness with the boy, then the young woman would have had no way to prevent another death on that day.

But, Monsters, it seemed, were without such intelligence.

Connie: "I said...GO!"

First came the charred shell, then the ripping of meat, and then the parting of bones—following that was an inverse repeat, as Connie's thin rapier precisely cut through the entirety of the Monster's outstretched left arm. Shell, flesh, meat, bones, meat, flesh, shell—if she could feel the sensation of the Monster's limb tearing off of its body, over and over again, she would gladly do so. Unfortunately for her, the time limit of this fight would reveal itself as yet another problem to deal with. 

But, before that—

Monster: "GHHHHHHYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRR!"

Screaming out in terror and pain, the creature's expression of dread fell on deaf ears. There would be no mercy for a beast such as it. No empathy, nor compassion, nor even a sense of justice. To the Humans, a Monster crying out in this manner, as if pleading to its Gods for help, was that of a lullaby that could rock one to sleep. It a was cathartic sound of infinite pleasure, from which nothing else could derive even a fraction of such a feeling.

It invigorated them. Motivated them to keep trying. And to keep fighting. And most importantly, to her, it was to keep those she cared about alive.

Ah, yes. What was it she said again?

Connie: "Move, you idiot!"

Her voice cut through to young John's ears just a moment sooner than the Monster's arm had been severed in twain, cut apart in between the shoulder and elbow, leaving the beast with little more than a stump. Through the dense spray of blood, and the severed limb falling violently to the ground—twisting and turning as its muscles decay—the bloodied visage of Connie Kaze stared daggers into John's very soul. Even so, it was clear that what had just unfolded was far too much for the young boy to bear, leaving him in a stagnate shock, unable to move.

Connie: "I said...GO!"

Making use of her great speed, the woman hopped from her stance, to a nearby tree to the side, and then directly into the roaring beast, delivering a mighty kick to its injured torso—having separated the two kids from the Monster, she once again commanded John to move, and then—

John: "R-right!"

Snapped out of his trance, the young boy with snowy white hair began to take action. The cowering young girl was suddenly swooped up into John's small arms, and with a shaky start, they fled from beyond the Monster's reach. Though the beast began to reach for them with its only remaining claws, Connie swiftly saw to it that the Monster's attention was kept all on her.

Connie: "Eyes on me, bastard!"

The first true curse was thrown at the Monster—bastard. Not that such a word holds any true power, but its usage in this world acts as a declaration of sorts. It is the epitome of saying, "I intend to be your death", with no err in usage. It isn't used out of rage, nor frustration, nor anxiety, nor depression, and very rarely used in playful demeanor—even then, only the closest of closest will use a curse.

In such a vile and vulgar world, it's fascinating to see the kinds of lines that Humans won't cross, despite doing far worse. Perhaps it is a way to keep a sense of normalcy and civility, in a world that knows nothing but primality.

In any case, the curse thrown at the Monster grasped the beast's attention, swinging its head over to Connie—no, that is not an exaggeration. In a display of the Monster's anatomy, its body slowly turned towards the furious young woman, with its evilly grinning expression turning around twice, further and creepier than an owl, finishing its display with an outstretched claw.

It was here that a true battle between Connie Kaze and the Monster began—

Oh, ready so quickly?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *