Chapter 29
When Sabrina Medina was five years old, she woke her mother from a nap. She was fearful to do so, but her tummy was loud, and this nap was getting to be a long one-- one of mama's two-day-long scary naps. It was dark, as the window was blacked out with aluminum foil. From the light of the hall, though, she saw roaches in mama's bed.
When Sabrina Medina's mother opened her eyes, they were blank for a minute. When her brain booted enough to process the reality that was filtering into it, all Sabrina Medina saw was a deep dread. In that moment, she understood her mama's terror. It was the realization that whatever peace and comfort she'd cocooned herself in was a lie. The cold truth was that she was forever trapped in the empty place.
Sabrina's mother had a lot of qualities that would warrant hate. This was the one that planted it in Sabrina, though. Sweet little Sabrina Medina was no more, as her innocence was stripped away and revealed to have been a lie all along. Once the empty place passed from her mother's eyes to her own, it had infected her forever.
Throughout Sabrina's life, she let her guard down time and time again. She let herself be happy, and even think that she'd built something up for herself. Without fail, though, her mind would drift. She'd slip away into peace and comfort. She'd then find herself stirred from a daze. She'd wake up to find mold, and decay, and stench closing in on her. She'd then succumb to the terror of knowing that she'd fallen into the empty place again. Nay, she'd been there all along, and the rest was all a lie. You can't get away from a place that's inside of you.
In the back of her mind, she feared that death was the empty place-- that to die, was to learn that life was a lie all along. Truth, therefore, was the mold, and decay, and stench overtaking you as you rot in a box forever. In death, there could be no comfort or peace, but only emptiness.
What she'd never considered, was that that was the lie all along. The lie was the notion that bitter was more real than sweet, and that cynicism was more true than hope and compassion. The poisonous lie, passed from mother to daughter for untold generations, died with Sabrina Medina. Unlike Sabrina Medina, that lie stayed dead.
"I can make you a deal," spoke a voice through oblivion. The feminine voice was sultry, yet dangerous. "I can forge a new you. In exchange, all I demand is that you do a task for me from time to time. It will be nothing vile or even objectionable. You will simply need to savor life's sweetest fruits. Do we have a deal?"
The answer was yes. Sabrina could not say it, for she had no mouth. She could not think it, for she had no brain. Still yet, the answer was yes. That, it seemed, was all that was required.
Time passed, but the awareness that had once been attached to Sabrina Medina could not perceive it. One day, reality simply came into focus. New eyes beheld the face of a beautiful woman looking down at them.
"Rise and shine, little Bean."
"How... do you know to call me that?" a new mouth found itself asking.
The woman smiled. Her skin was a vibrant salmon color. Her lips were full and glistening. She was enormous, and naked, and beautiful. The air was warm. Sabrina felt the air. She smelled the air. Sabrina existed.
Sabrina jolted upright. "How am I alive?!"
Wait... salmon-colored skin? The woman had ram-like horns and towered at eight-feet-tall. Her eyes looked like swirling nebulae. "Am I dead?! Am I in hell?!"
The woman looked amused and satisfied with this reaction. She finally answered, "I know what you know. Because of me. No, and no."
"Wha... what?"
"Sorry. I shouldn't do that bit. Allow me to explain. When a human dies in the dungeon, their soul, and memories, and everything they were is recycled into the dungeon. While your body was beyond repair, I was able to keep your soul and mind and all the bits that make you you intact. I was then able to forge a new body and implant you into it."
"I have... a new body? I died? I... Jade!" As she recalled her death and Jade's danger, she tried to get out of bed but the woman held out reassuring hands.
"Jade is alive. Your friends all made it out. You saved them," the woman assured.
"I did? Did I...?"
"You didn't kill Blackwall, unfortunately. Like a fool though, he struck you with far more power than he needed to in his anger. The damage that reflected back on him mortally wounded him and forced him to retreat. You bought your friends the time they needed to escape. The fact that you made that rotten fucker piss his pants is half the reason I reincarnated you."
Sabrina looked down herself. She was naked. Her breasts were large, and perky, and her nipples were pierced and studded. More alarmingly, her skin was a deep red. "Reincarnated... I'm a demon?!"
"Yes, technically," the woman admitted. "It's okay, though."
"I think that's for me to say, isn't it? I don't want to be a demon!"
"Thanks to that pussy of yours, the argument could be made that you did want to be a demon, and you better thank fuck that it could! Otherwise you'd be a whisper on the fucking wind right now!" After getting riled up, the woman relaxed. "You're a demon, but you have a human form. To explain it all, I'll need to start from the beginning though, okay? There's a lot of necessary context."
The woman looked to Sabrina for confirmation, and Sabrina nodded sheepishly. She continued, "Okay, I'll start from the beginning... well, I'm Oneira. Although, if you prefer, you can call me mommy," she added with a smirk.
Sabrina grimaced sourly. "Call you what?"
"I'm kidding, damn. I guess your mommy issues are still intact. I just meant that I created you."
"Wait... are you the Dungeoneer?"
Oneira opened her mouth and paused, verbally constipated. "No?"
"You don't sound sure about it."
"Well it's just a complicated thing to be asked. Are you God?"
Sabrina's eyes widened as she asked, "What? Is there a god?"
"See? It's not a question that prompts a straightforward answer. In fact, you know what? This is the perfect place to start." Oneira then conjured up a chair to sit leaning towards Sabrina. "You are-- or, were-- the universe experiencing itself, right? I am the dungeon experiencing itself. Although really, both of us are both. You are the dungeon in body and the universe in soul. Right now, you're physically experiencing the dungeon, but through your memories, you're experiencing the universe. Through the act of creating you, I experienced your memories, and those experiences became a part of me. Are you following me?"
"I think? You're sort of rambling, though," Sabrina answered.
"Until I met you, my concept of a Dungeoneer or god or whatever, was that. The Dungeon had some kind of intelligence, but it was just an abstract kind of intelligence. It isn't something that you can personify, as much as you can personify a forest or an ant colony. God is a system of processes, the act of creation, and of experience, and the interlocking chaos of changing ecosystems. Sure, it can seem to have desires and grand designs, but that's an inevitable consequence of siphoning from the dreams and stories of humanity. For instance, the dungeon seems to want to experience the universe-- and be experienced by the universe in kind. The challenges, for example, are how the dungeon takes a back seat to humans experiencing interesting aspects of life, and it rewards you for it. Theoretically, the Dungeoneer is just an emergent property of those systems."
"Alright... and you're saying you were wrong? Meeting me changed that, somehow?"
With fascination, Oneira was now so close to Sabrina that their noses touched. "Yes!"
"What changed?"
"I had a religious experience. It's an odd thing for a demon. When you died, I heard a voice, clear as day. It commanded me to preserve your soul and make you a new body. It even specifically commanded that you have a human form."
"But I don't have a human form," Sabrina pointed out dryly.
"Oh, but you do. It was very tricky. I make demons. That's it. While I'm not the Dungeoneer, I am a sort of god in here. I am one of the original beings from the early days of the dungeon. I oversee the first six floors, and I am responsible for the creation and uptake of demons. Making humans, though? That isn't in my power. So to start with, I needed to work out a way to make you a demon, that is also a human. Fortunately, you were already part demon. Consent is a cardinal rule to the dungeon, and it can't turn you into something that you aren't.
"Now, to make you a demon that's also human, meant making a very special demon. Demons don't change forms. We can glamor ourselves, in limited ways, like turning into a cat or a snake. We can't change forms, though-- especially not into a human. Do you know what can? A dragon."
"Dragons are real? The dungeon has dragons?" Sabrina asked.
"Dragons are real. They're not native to this dungeon, but they don't need to be. That's because this dungeon has a dragon, and that dragon just so happens to be... drumroll please... my wife! It's really too perfect."
Oneira looked for a reaction in Sabrina's face but was disappointed to find her collected and introspective. "Well it is," Oneira continued. "So, with the generous donation of materials from my beautiful and magnificent wife, I created a wholly unique kind of demon. See for yourself," she invited, and with the snap of her fingers, Sabrina's game-like interface returned.
>Congratulations! You have been born!
>Demonic pact has been bound to your soul for the remainder of this lifetime.
>Pact conditions: Sabrina "Bean" Medina (hereto-forth referred to as 'party A') has contracted Oneira, Mother of Demons (hereto-forth referred to as 'party B') in undergoing the rebirth of party A. In exchange for the sufficient tendering of services, party A shall periodically complete tasks requested by party B. Quote from negotiation: "It will be nothing vile or even objectionable. You will simply need to savor life's sweetest fruits." As an ongoing supplemental task required, party A is required to maintain the bespoke 'Infernal Succubus' form crafted at the hands of party B through periodic acts of sexual congress. Intellectual property rights to bespoke 'Infernal Succubus' form reserved by party A in perpetuity throughout the known universe, as well as all subdimensional domains and the imaginations of hypothetical observers in speculative realities in which the existences of party A, party B, and all relevant materials would be considered fiction. Do not panic. Do not have an existential crisis. Do not think about who is reading the readers. Disregard if this contract was glazed over because the paragraph is too long.
