Non-Descript Monster Collection Game.

The votes for Kaki are far faster; with no one other than Cilla having any objections, and hers were mostly logistical blabber. We exited the Domain so that I could create rooms for the two new additions to our gaggle of oddities; giving me a wonderful chance at using these keys Citrinas had handed me. Leaving the others to do as they wish, I begin my walk through the pinkish-orange halls; so, Citrinas said this is Veil-Wood... I'll have to ask Cilla about it later.

I enjoyed the stroll, with each new sight was a hint to old stories; ones I'm sure Ariel would be able to speak of in full detail. The floor had the occasional rug, made from the furs of strange beasts; one I recognized from my lessons. It was the pelt of a Zape, a Lightning-Infused creature found in some woods near those burnt-looking trees we had come across; the Tin-Tan Palmaceaes. As I turn the last corner, paintings began lining the walls; which grew more dense in quantity as I approached my destination. The paintings themselves, all in a faded watercolor style, were disturbingly familiar.

The first I noticed was a green hill, with a tree, and a picnic blanket, with a young man with red hair holding out a ring; silver of band, with a sapphire heart crowning this most sacred object of love. I feel my heart clench, and my vision blur, but push myself to keep going. Another painting sent shudders through my soul, scraping against my inner-being like a waking nightmare. Two bright lights... headlights, of the oncoming Fourteen-Wheeler. I can hear the sounds once more, the crunch of the metal, the exploding glass. Only this time, it is clearer; more vivid.

The crunch of bone as Her side of the car was compressed by ****. Her scream of terror suddenly being replaced with a gargled yelp, and the silence. The ringing in my ear as my head impacted the airbags. The static crackle of the radio ceasing it's music. The snapping from my hand being torn from my body as I reached towards her... trying to save Her...

I collapse, hands over my ears; seconds away from clawing at the damned things to make it go away. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake!

"M-Monster?"

That's what I am... a Monster... I just had to stop asking her about it...

"Monster!?"

Why would I want to invite him!? What was wrong with me!?

"Monster!"

I'm shaken back to my senses by the small, delicate hands of a Zana. Her panic is calmed as I finally make eye-contact, but the sound of her heart is like the firing of her rifle; explosive, and chaotic. My collapse had incited the collapse of a mental dam, as I saw the beginnings of moisture forming at her ever-changing eyes.

"I'm f-fine! I'm... I'm fine." I lie, pulling myself to my feet. "I was just-"

The Mousey Mage looks up to the paintings, seeing what I had seen. While she may not have been a Ranger, it didn't take a genius to understand what was happening. She takes her hat, and holds it up to me.

"Here. To cover your eyes, if it gets too much." Says Zana, sounding oddly protective.

I take the enchanted headwear, donning it atop my head; still shaken by the sounds, I do not speak, instead nodding in gratitude. Zana takes my hand, slowly guiding me down the hall, where yet more paintings line the halls. I see a shirt being lifted from a woman's perspective, revealing bruises and a cut; a man with red hair using a strip of red cloth as a bandage. I see that same man in yet another piece, standing on a stage, singing into a... microphone; yes, that's what they're called.

Karaoke Night... we met on Karaoke Night... I sang something... something sad...

Finally, we arrive at a door with a silver inlay, with blue painted glass in the shape of a heart. I reach for the key in my pocket, but my shaking hands can barely hold them; losing my grip. Zana catches the falling piece of precious metal.

"Monster; will you be ok in there?" She asks; worry staining her words like gunpowder.

"I... I have to be."

Zana unlocks the door; the click of the lock sounding like the cocked hammer of a rifle. I hand my friend her hat, and smile; thankful for her support. I enter, closing the door behind me.

The room is... simple. No extravagant carvings in the supporting pillar at the rooms center, nor fanciful furnishings; a simple (but comfortable looking) bed, chair, desk, and easel. The bed's coverings were nothing to write home about, being that same red I had seen so often coloring Cilla's hood. The walls had been painted, but without any sort of intricate design, or magical wards. It was all white; plain, eggshell white. The only thing of interest is wedged in a second, plain door; the corner of a rough, burlap tarp.

I go to this door, pulling at it, and finding that it leads to the outside of the ship; on a small, hidden deck, with a hand-railing being all that stops a large, rectangular object from falling off, and onto the ground below. From the looks of things outside, this balcony was at the rear of the ship; meaning that the winds from flight would be minimal, if present at all. I grasp the covered object, and bring it back inside, gently. It's weight is hefty, but manageable, allowing me to rest it upon the easel. I pull away the tarp, revealing two things.

The faded portrait of a man with red hair; the oldest of Her works, from the look of the parchment.

And a mirror, which nearly falls as it slides out from behind the portrait.

I catch the mirror, the thing being only ten inches or so in height and width. It was a silvery square, outlined by a pearly white material... Light Soul-Steel. Why such a valuable resource was used for a mirror, I did not know; but the mirror itself radiated with magic.

I'll have to show this to Ariel...

I take a second look, up at the portrait of Damian Walker. This painting obscures the face as a blur, but I recognize the shade of red in his hair, as it still remained present upon my head to this day. He is dressed in a suit; the same that Logic wore during our time together. I see his arms reaching down beyond a black bar at the bottom of the painting, with a curve indicating a rising structure of sorts; he's playing a piano... he's... I'm...

Tears drip down my cheeks, as the memory comes into focus. My fingers flying across the keys as I sing a sad, loving tune. I see her smiling in the crowd, and she spots my glances, waving. I play the wrong keys as I begin to fluster, too worried about the black box in my back pocket to focus...

I walk out of the room, with Zana standing just outside; she see's my tears, and asks. "Are you ok?"

I smile, the memory still playing in my mind; hot, wet reminders of a long-lost love dancing in my eyes.

Dancing to the music of my piano...

Dancing to the cheesy Karaoke...

Dancing to the radio in the car...

"Never been better."