The Lost Emotion: The Lost Emotion

Pruflas sat against the headrest of the bed as he ran his fingers across his mask. It was a gesture that gave him comfort, for some reason… sure, the tactile sensation of its leather texture was a good distraction in more tense situations. But that was more of a bonus than the main comfort.

 

It always felt weird to call the mask a comfort. He never really questioned why he felt that way, but… well, he was bored, and the style of entertainment that his partner Haagenti preferred, which was endless partying and hedonism, never really appealed to Pruflas.

 

Not in this form, at least.
But Laevus…?

 

Pruflas frowned and set the mask in front of him so that it faced towards him.
This mask brought forward his other side: Laevus. 
Laevus was originally a side of him with absolutely no limits or bounds; while Pruflas was limited to only scrambling communications (including the communication between the brain and the rest of the body), Laevus could absolutely destroy it.
Now Laevus was… too limited, too bound. Too bound by emotions, too bound by regrets, too bound by the desire to escape. He sighed and muttered a "Damn it," as his mind started wondering: how? How did Laevus become so soft?

 

Pruflas knew that it wasn't a flaw of the mask itself.
He had worked tirelessly to make it! Of course it would be flawless. There was an external factor: Belial (bastard…) embedding a spell that would split the wearer's soul into a side without suppression and a side to keep it in check and bringing the unfettered side to the surface. In other words, the mask would bring out the hidden, buried side of the wearer. Pruflas was the main creator of it, however.

 

He also knew how the mask would work… he made it himself. The first few tries of it went well.

 

The first try? He made perfect work of the test subject that was brought to him… breaking their neck was of minimal effort thanks to Laevus.

 

The second? He did well. It was the same thing he did in his first trial. 
Just against a different test subject. 
A different test subject who he actually remembered the face of. 
A different test subject whose murder he actually remembered.

 

He started staring into the mask's lenses. He could make out his face in their reflections… 
He blinked.

 

Immediately, he saw her face in the lenses. He batted the mask off the bed. No. He should be over it now. How many years has it been? Why does she keep on…

 

He took deep breaths. 
He took deep breaths. 
He felt his hands reach for the mask and slip it onto his face.

 

…

He could see his reflection in the mirror that was hung on the wall next to the bed. His inky black, neatly tied hair had been replaced with a wild mess of white, the signature sign that Laevus, or Pruflas Laevus, was active.

 

Pruflas Laevus crept up to the mirror and slammed his hand next to it as he stared at his reflection. 
As he was staring, he noticed that he was heaving and sobbing. 
He let himself.

 

He could clearly remember her last action, that awful awful gaze. 
That gaze as it looked right into him.
That gaze that screamed "How could you?"
Even though she didn't and couldn't say anything, he could hear her last words in his head.
"You… I thought I could trust you! Why did you do this?!"
"Was it all a lie? Stop, please… please help me…"
"What did I do to deserve this…? I'm so sor…"
"...why?"
"..."

 

He fell onto the bed.
His sobbing grew into crying.
And that crying grew until he was burying his face in the sheets, trying desperately to somehow let these emotions out but also hide them.
And he cried, and he cried, and he cried…

 

…

 

The mask lay on the ground as Pruflas sat on the bed, again. As he stared at it, a thought crept across his mind…

 

Maybe the comfort the mask gave him was the fact that he hadn't truly lost himself.