victorisuu

[victorisuu]

Cesar’s Fate

♡ This AU includes many religious themes, it's suggested to not continue if you are sensitive. Breezing nighttime was awakening to the mediocre, miserable, and ruthless way of life led by pathetic humanity. Each wave was stealing whatever people had as if imitating the thieves, hiding everything taken in a place so that no one -including the ludicrous spirits which roam the earth- could ever find it again. In those moments when no one dared to step outside, a silent man would be walking without hitting the cars & street lamps that are on the verge of breaking and do not benefit anyone with their lights from the very edge of the pavement. There was a murky tension on the man's face, visible through the rusty lamps that served no other function than light pollution. His steps were minuscule as he clutched the shady, not-so-old hat he was holding in his hand, his insecurity gushing over his body like the Victoria Waterfall. The young man was leaning against the nearest, unpleasant wall covered with moss and the smell of dampness for two minutes, pulled an outmoded phone out of his trouser pocket with his trembling hands, seemingly trying to reach someone by phone. The gentleman went beyond his strategies and expectations by kneeling when he couldn't get the desired comeback from the other side of the phone. It was getting more formidable and inconvenient to push himself not to break into pieces & shatter as if his eyes had popped out with the gloomy thoughts of that frigid night blows. Any human or non-human existing creature treading outside was too occupied; none of them appeared to overlook the dreadful exclamations roaming around the highway.

The hat was dragging in the atmosphere, caught in the sound of the wind. The young man was drowning in so much distress and pain that he could not think of his hat. That might be, and presumably is why it proceeded along with the deceiving breeze, to discipline him for the forgetfulness of its proprietor. Feeling that the lack of something in the middle is starting to creep in, the young man awakens without delaying for a minute, turning to the left of the road, believing his guesses, and continuing on his way, thinking that he is following his hat. The man who had set off by speeding up his steps would sooner or later succumb to his fatigue; the moment he tumbled, he would collapse to the ground, just as he had seen recently. He realized much later that he was out of breath. When he realizes this, he screams by sacrificing his vocal cords so those wretched beasts around him could hear by sobbing, throwing up his negative aura. We are unsure whether unfortunate has afflicted him. Yet, no one around him has paid attention to him and hasn't listened to the breaking of his voice. A piece of the article was attached to his face amid his cries, nobody was aware of the perpetrator, but it still caught the little man's attention. The summary of the poster was as follows, although the details required some censorship in this text:

"Cesar Torres has been blacklisted by law enforcement for the murder of a human being."

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As soon as the gentleman holding the sign to the street lamp that barely illuminates realizes that the attached photograph belongs to him, he'd fall into an indescribable astonishment. Cesar felt dizzy when an article about curses communed to him added to top the dreadful feeling he hadn't gotten over for the few tens of minutes he'd had thus far. At this point, all Cesar could manage to do was hope that whoever tossed the report at his face didn't determine him. Sensing that everyone is gone, the boy gets up, intending to straighten his creased pants, but concedes that something hurts him. He decided to lie on the cobblestone ground with the despair that comes into existence at this disaster and worst possible time. Although he was aware that his heavy eyelids would drag him into trouble, he assumed that a little nap wouldn't hurt. The environment in which he slept was indeed secluded, at least for him. He leaned against the crumbling wall civilly, tolerating his body rest for a while as if there was nothing more he could ever do, or at least pretend to. With every minute that the dominant scent of the darkness increased, the probability of the man falling drowsing increased proportionally, and he fell asleep as anticipated. When the scorching rays of the sunlight descended directly into the man's eyes, he discerned the condition to wake up forcefully and got up with indecisiveness shrouding the completely numbed body. With adequate eyesight corresponded to that freezing night on the ground, the components of the young man who seemed to be busy looking for his headdress were coming to light. It undoubtedly matched the photo on the projected article. Cesar was not, at least once in his life, a fan of the sun or anything related to the sunshine—which could include light and happiness—this preference conducted him to pursue a shaded shelter. Then, somehow his desire changed to find the house he leased, where he could never accommodate anything even though it contained two floors.

When Cesar remembered where he should've gone, his phone would tingle with a fierce melody, which presumably plays a role in preserving him upright and then picking up the phone. Cesar, who is not satisfied with where he stands, is struggling with sadness while listening to the person on the other side lecturing him on the phone with great concentration. The pure-spirited man was absolutely devastated by the words he heard; instead of heading home, he must have deviated to a different location and revised his route, so he had nothing to oppose his swift movement. Judging by Cesar's muttering wife, Cesar had committed wickedness. Although he declared to observe God's course, society did not intend to acknowledge or apply compassion to him at all. Especially when this "alternative" that emerged recently was living with the hazard of beings outlying from being mortal, no one visited Cesar as a human being and perceived him as a heretical doppelganger. He could not grasp where he had made a misstep. He had only done his work at the behest of the observations he had witnessed and attended.

Sensing that he was stopped by an unexpected force, even though he was farther from his destination, Cesar checked behind him. He was surrounded by an enormous forest, while he was gazing around stupidly, he even overlooked where he was supposed to reach. Cesar realizes that he is mistaken for a presence he sees behind him. The prosperity, coolness, and shade that the woodlands gave to humanity did not assist him by any chance. Cesar was taken aback by Gabriel's standing behind him. After all, Gabriel was a humanoid (or human-looking) angel who used to perform as a precursor by informing people of God's works accompanied by God's power in the Bible. Cesar had never encountered Gabriel outside of the creation procedure. Facing the actuality that no existent creature beside them was humming, the deafening silence was terrifying the mortal being. The only mentally durable thing Cesar could ever do, whose psyche suddenly collapsed, was lose his cognitive health at Gabriel's feet and implore until demise. The gentleman, surging in the dreadful, frightening, and debilitating pitiful fear that covered his body, began to cry and demand an invoice, not overseeing that there's one of the four supreme angels who preserved his eyes on the whining human. The angel's words, who would die to communicate with harsh resentment, were interrupted by the man, the clouds of apprehension behind him were getting dimmer and they were remaining to burst in desperation. The angel, whose tension doubled, tripled, or even quadrupled -Gabriel was now in the position of an angel who could not hesitate to demonstrate his aggressiveness as if he were a Mephistopheles who lost tolerance.- contained to stop the boy's reverberating and hoarse cries in his vocal cords with a loud voice. Gabriel's blond hair, shining as if roaring against the minimalized sunlight, exalted the angel's appearance with the effect of the breeze, and Cesar's unredeemable, pitch-black eyes were dazzled by this overwhelming but also flawless sight. The guy endeavored to apologize but was silenced by Gabriel and asked consent to express himself first. -In the truth of the matter, he could interrupt and give an extremely remarkable speech even if he didn't ask for permission.- " My masterpiece, my only lawful son, whom I love more than anything, I am aware of everything from the hanging articles to all the curses addressed to you. There is no necessity to pray for an act of grace in front of me, it is undoubtedly not you who made a misstep or sinned. Every living thing that does not comply with what you say, all those living things were created to follow the devil's observations to the letter and to fill hell. Can you hear that referring to them as a human is a defamation to you, my dearest child? " The same butterfly feeling that every word adorned with lies could give anybody was also in Cesar's stomach; Cesar, on the other hand, comprehended something was awry. Every sound, covered with that magnificence that used to be enchanting, now rasped in his ears, and he had to prevent it somehow. Repeating the phrases one by one, Cesar felt himself slowly swallowing them, noticing that every sound shifted into sweats 'n' tears, yet he couldn't accomplish anything due to this oppressive and stifling environment. Compared to the angel in size, the youthful man, who is exceedingly short, needed an uprising. All of the passive-aggressive palls in Gabriel were gathered within Cesars purified body, in a way bowing to him. Although the clouds themselves were invisible, the misery was evident on Cesar's countenance, and the increasingly unsettling boy formed to speak, doubting even the actuality of the angel fronting him: " Why, why don't you present to me the fact that behind every comment I heard, that I listened to with a stupid countenance, there are pebbles made of big lies! Come to me with bitter, resentful truths. Rather than lies that smell perfect. " The reality that the angel's patience ran out centuries ago should never have implied that he would not rescue Cesar from this carrion surrounded by murderousness. While Gabriel, who loved literature, was occupied determining humble lies that would save his ass for a day, Cesar's melancholy negligibly rotated into a jar of irritation. Verbal combat between a young man whose energy is just being born and an angel whose will to exist is about to run out will not yield any consequences, but there is no proper & valid explanation why this should not occur. Considering this truth, the leaves of the manufacturers in the woodland begin to turn yellow in the middle of spring with an incredible godsend -The need for an exclamation point in parentheses is relatable.- to glimpse from a third person. For Torres's both mentally & psychically most immature youngster ever, it was bullshit. Unable to bear the revolt of a replica he had meticulously created with his own hands, Gabriel continues to wear his temperate expression and articulates: " Lies? Isn't telling falsehoods only individual to humans? Don't let my expectancies down, Torres, and stop your rebellion now. Close your eyes because I'll be protecting you from this world by destroying you. If you have the slightest apprehension of perishing or disbelieving related to my superiority, you will get rid of them. " Being sent to Heaven and Gabriel's incarnation never felt right, as Cesar had made sure that whatever he was dealing with was not an angel or a messenger sent to bring amicability and harmony on earth. Moreover, the nervousness that the creature superior to himself, whom he had accepted as an enemy, might be a devil, kept gnawing at him. Confused and overwhelmed, Cesar, who did not think about giving up for at least a few ten minutes, had abandoned his despondent manners and surrendered to pure madness. " Will you encroach my purified, worn out, and unrefined brainiac; charming, magnificent, sublime God? " When the words he utters turn into photographs full of bloody and torn eyes that will disturb the human psyche before his eyes, Cesar's mind would be filled with restlessness, too many depressing suicidal sentiments, and despair. Whether this is a minimalized portion of the punishment for opposing God or whether it is a self-defeating image, it is straightforward that there is now a terror awaiting and compelling him to pass permanently. While the son, who can't get out of the consequences of the unwelcome and unsettling photos, has tried to protect himself from this anesthesia outcome by clenching his teeth, Gabriel -who is proclaimed as the devil from now- would never hesitate to sermonize more. " I can't feel like an associate of the society. Why'd you not feel the condition to instill this feeling in the process that you created me?! Or am I an "Alternative" that people continually mumble and despise? As those people expressed, slurred, and humiliated, was I even a human at this point. " Cesar's speeches, conjoined with Gabriel's hush, were very successful in instructing the man about the reality of the undesirable bitter ones. Many other nightmares, assembled by God(!), began to fill the jungle, to latch the silence that ensued from the grinding words of the gentleman quoted by Torres. One of the fill-ins whose hair isn't visible due to the horrific black hoodie is not smiling, and he is unusually out of anticipation; To arrange it additionally accurate, he was holding himself back so as not to scream or shout. Busy blowing his nose in speechlessness, this doppelganger was unbelievably serene and compassionate. Realizing that Cesar could be executed, the illegal immigrant disguised alternate and Gabriel, who could only grasp that Cesar's brain age didn't overreach ten, initiated a brainstorming jointly via telepathy. The sole motive and purpose of the discussion conducted via telepathy were to preserve Cesar. Although Gabriel wasn't fond of the cursed juvenile thief he had assembled, he had encountered it necessary to have this discussion with him, in which case he could probably only understand Gabriel himself. There was nothing left for him to challenge, and this vast emptiness gave Cesar nothing but desperation and the hunger to perpetrate suicide to acquire the devil's endorsement. His lamentable and downcast look no longer left much selection for the guy, either to break by rebellion or with forgiveness. To desire to strand everything else to live or could ever live and disappear abruptly is manipulation, he was the target in this nonsense contest. He left all the exhaustion, anxiety, concern, whatever brought negativity on his shoulders, to the earth; he had stretched out his hands to the devil, he had to fail even if he didn't enjoy it, or they would have him whipped to death in a dungeon. During the period when he bartered his essence to the devil and gave it as a gift rather than selling it, he shut his eyes, and the immigrant-like alternate standing next to him couldn't assist but break into pieces with the overemotional sensations for the first time. Cesar, who has lost his human appearance, begins to suffer the punishment of being an alternative copy with a malformed smile on his fundamental look as he discerns discomfort in his knees. Fake feathers flowing from Gabriel's inaccurate wings caress Cesar's crux; they were aspiring for him to attain Nirvana and perish in the most pacifist and painless way. All the terrors which came after the Intruder were staggered and discouraged, yet Cesar's crooked smile remained unharmed. The exhaustive, indescribable delicious fragrance of nobility and sublimity that spread around was enormous. It was such a glamorous aroma that Cesar could perish with the appetite sublime every moment. The boy in the red bow tie, reaching out to infinity, would continue to smile, filling the surroundings with a pure and blurry smile. He thought he was at serenity and harmony in the absence of all the emotions he handled because his appetites could not arrive. He was running barefoot on the brilliant, luminous white clouds, leaping merrily, not tolerating anything or anybody to distract him from his satisfaction; he could possess his completely numb body much more satisfactory than before, he supposed as if he had become godlike now. He left his mistrusts behind as he recreated with the friendly, delighted beams of the sun, thought that Gabriel was as uncorrupted as an angel. He visited that wall, the torn poster on the floor where he was crawling with pain, and then the overgrown forest, covered with significant, great trees and thorns. The sight he had caught was not what he had predicted and desired. There shouldn't be another Cesar Torres on the ground, for everyone to pay awareness to him, to sob for him, seemed purposeless and nonsensical to the shallow-brained, roaming guy. Strangest in his eyes that Cesar embraced by Gabriel does not react at all; If someone from the outside saw it, they would presumably think he had swallowed his tongue. When the joy has replaced by a fit of evil jealousy, he walked down and waved everyone, especially his cherished savior Gabriel, to him, despite all of this, there was no perceptible development. Still the darling of everyone, it was the unresponsive Cesar on the ground. Gabriel was trying to proceed far away, carrying the body from the ground on his humpbacked yet gorgeous back; Cesar, on the other hand, was pursuing after him, screaming and shouting to arouse the angel's engagement. All he could select from the murmured phrases was "demise," "corpse," and his name. Drowning in the turmoil of emotions, Cesar was relieved by Gabriel's observations; there was no jaw-dropper he couldn't handle right now. Still, he couldn't help considering that if death was so pure, refined, flawless, and immaculate; Why was Mark withstanding not dying? Why did people stress about death? And in the end, did Gabriel want to convey people concurrently with ideal? It didn't take long for him to realize that as the glooms withered to gray with every millimeter he flew, his beliefs were harshening, and endless doubts and dreadful sentiments began to weaken the soul even more. The corpse gradually disappears, and Gabriel's head twists to the spirit soaring around him, but no face is seeable; instead, a box-like scribbled with a black felt-tip pen encircled the expressions. "Were you a deceiving, manipulative, cruel, and crippled lucifer who also tortured me?" "Exactly."