A conversation with a senile god.

This morning three archivists arrived to escort us to the archive.

We were blindfolded and a few hours later unblindfolded inside of a library of some sort. We were brought through the library.

Eventually we entered a room. There he was. The Blind Man was sitting at a desk. A female archivist handed him a cup of tea. "Thank you Sigma." The Blind Man said as he took the glass. The archivist turned and left quickly. We waited for a bit with nothing happening and then it occurred to me.

He couldn't tell we were there.

I spoke. "Hello. Blind Man?"

He looked up from his desk. He had eyes. They were a milky white colour.

TBM: Hello who's there? Are you the visitors I invited?

I nodded then realized that was stupid and said we were.

TBM: Ahh good... Does it bother you seeing what you've caused? The omnipotent creature. Master of memory. Now just a wretched old blind man confined to this desk. Spending my last moments writing down all I can remember as my memory slowly deteriorates. This was your doing. Does it bother you?

I shook my head realized I was doing it again and said no.

TBM: Of course not. Even now I'm just a monster to you. A defeated villain getting what I deserve.

He was quiet for a bit.

TBM: The Archivists all got their memories back. Even knowing what I took from them and seeing me as this decrepit creature they still revere me. Do you know why?

I didn't answer.

TBM: Because they still seek knowledge. Until I'm dead or my memory finally fails me I still know more than anyone else can. They set me to this task writing out everything I know. If my memory goes first I don't doubt they will avenge themselves upon me. Till then I am the greatest source of knowledge and they will revere me as such. Do you know what happened to the other fears?

I shook my head again and in my own irritation at my continued stupidity I yelled out no.

He winced.

TBM: What about you Dying Man?

The Liar: I don't know what happened to any of the others but me.

TBM: You're lucky. The fate of your brethren was mostly similar to the fate of your earlier self. They found themselves trapped in rotted and mortally wounded bodies and died. EAT has simply become water. The Brute has died of smoke inhalation. The Afterlife itself no longer exists. The Wooden Girl is just a normal doll now lying forgotten somewhere. The Newborn fell to pieces as The Tower crumbled. The Cold Boy died of Hypothermia. The Plague Doctor succumbed to his own diseases. I could go on but it's mostly the same... I know of their fates because The archivists told me. They know much. Some became normal beings. The Convocation and Intrusion merely lost their hivemind quality and reverted to basic insects and bugs. The Smiling Man is much the same, merely a mortal psychotic killer now. Yet for some strange reason she seems unchanged.

He became silent appearing lost in thought.

TBM: There was something important about her... Something I forgot... Something we all forgot. Alas I couldn't remember even when my mind is clear I'll be damned if I can remember anything with this deteriorating mind.

Me: Who is she?

TBM: Who is who?

Me: You were just talking about-

TBM: Who are you? Did one of The Archivists let you in here? Get out I don't want visitors!

An Archivist came and led us out. We were blindfolded again and brought home.

I don't feel bad about what I did. I only feel bad about what resulted.