He looked around, though it made little difference; the tar was as black as a starless void. The viscous liquid absorbed every trace of light, leaving him blind to all but a few faint yellow lights far above him -- the surface, impossibly distant. The silence pressed down on him, oppressive and inescapable, broken only by the occasional, bone-chilling howl that rippled through the tar, so alien to him that he could not fathom any creature capable of making such a sound.

  Barr tried desperately to swim upward, but the tar dragged at him, clinging to his limbs and pulling him back into the abyss.

  Screeching Voice: "Back then, you dreamt of releasing others from their pain... But I have peered into your life since those times. You have stolen. You have injured. You have defiled. Your once-pure ambition was corrupted... twisted beyond recognition."

  The voice returned, slithering into his thoughts like a serpent. He felt the tar creeping into his skin, worming its way into his pores, like a disease seeking to claim him entirely.

  Screeching Voice: "... And yet, I forgive you. Like all others, you are a flawed product of a flawed universe, shaped by vile hands. That disgusting human... Cabdan. The embodiment of all that is wretched. Had you been strong enough to stand alone, how much more could you have achieved? How many more could you have freed?"

  The tar halted, recoiling slightly as if awaiting a response.

  Barr: "Fuck... OFF!"

  His voice tore through the suffocating silence, his defiance rippling outward. The tar seemed to hesitate, shrinking back as though startled.

  Barr: "I don’t know what you are, but my past is *mine*! You hear me? It’s MINE, and it’s GONE. Leave it the fuck alone. The more it washes away, the easier life becomes."

  Screeching Voice: "An easy life... Is that what you seek? A life without struggle? Your life is anything but easy... I have felt your pain, Barr. Every blow, every cut, every mangled bone."

  The darkness surged forward again, pressing against him like a vice, tightening until it felt as if his ribs might collapse.

  Screeching Voice: "But more than the physical -- oh, I have felt your pain every time you returned home. Every time you looked at him. The drunkard. Your father. Slowly drinking himself into oblivion, one bottle at a time. And who enables him? You do. You could have walked away, long ago. You had the coin... But you stayed."

  The pressure increased, crushing his body, forcing him to confront the venomous truths it spewed.

  Screeching Voice: "You weren’t strong enough to kill him, but you weren’t strong enough to let him go either. Why? Why prolong his suffering? Why keep him tethered to this miserable existence? You know he can never be saved. You know this, Barr. So why...?"

  Barr: "Shut up..."

  His voice was a choked whisper, but it carried an edge of desperation.

  Screeching Voice: "Are you afraid he’ll take his own life if you stop feeding his addiction? Would that be so terrible? Wouldn’t that... free you?"

  Barr: "Shut up... Don’t fucking say it."

  Screeching Voice: "Wouldn’t his death sever the chains that bind you to this world? Wouldn’t it finally give you the courage to do what you’ve always wanted to do...? To take your own life?"

  Barr: "I’M NEVER GOING TO DO THAT!"

  The tar flinched, withdrawing slightly, but it surged back with renewed force, as if testing his resolve.

  Screeching Voice: "And why not...?"

  Barr: "BECAUSE I’M NO FUCKING COWARD!"

  His roar echoed through the void.

  Barr: "If life wants me dead, it’s gonna have to rip me to pieces! I’m not going anywhere."

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  Screeching Voice: "Your torment would end. You could finally rest."

  Barr: "My torment ends when I say it does. Until then, I’ve got unfinished business. Plenty of pigs to bleed. Plenty of bitches to fuck. And plenty of gold to take. But you know what? You’re right about one thing..."

  His voice faltered, shaking with bitterness.

  Barr: "I’m too weak. Too weak to wrap my hands around Cabdan’s fat neck. Too weak to... to..."

  Screeching Voice: "... To end your father’s life?"

  The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Barr didn’t answer.

  Screeching Voice: "Strength isn’t all you lack... Have you looked at yourself lately?"

  The tar shifted, peeling away from parts of his body. As it sloughed off, it revealed what lay beneath -- or rather, what didn’t lay beneath.

  Barr: "My arm... A-and my..."

  He stared at the void where his flesh should have been, the absence so stark it made him feel hollow. His trembling hand -- the only one he had left -- clenched into a desperate fist.

  Screeching Voice: "Your life will never be the same, Barr. This 'unfinished business' of yours will remain unfinished. Without hands to strangle, without the means to indulge your cravings... how exactly do you plan to see it through?"

  Barr: "Fuck... FUCK!"

  Tears burned down his face as he gritted his teeth, fury boiling over.

  Barr: "Who did this to me?! WHO THE FUCK DID THIS?!"

  Screeching Voice: "Have you forgotten...?"

  His mind raced, searching for a memory, but the tar clawed at his thoughts, turning them to smoke.

  Screeching Voice: "It was you."

  Barr’s heart stopped for a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

  Barr: "M-me...? No... That’s not... It can’t be."

  The voice erupted into laughter, a piercing sound that ricocheted through the endless void.

  Screeching Voice: "Oh, but it is. You thought yourself invincible, a predator who could keep taking, consuming, destroying... But you took from the wrong person. You finally met your match in a fight to the death. They fought for survival, for something greater than themselves -- something noble. You fought only for yourself... And you lost. Yet that day, more was taken from you than just another victory. You lost *everything*. You have no one to blame but your weak, pathetic self."

  Barr clenched his jaw, veins bulging on his neck as a growl rumbled deep in his chest.

  Barr: "Fuck you... LET ME GO. LET ME GO!"

  The tar surged, wrapping tighter around him, smothering his limbs until he could no longer feel them.

  Screeching Voice: "You belong to me now, Barr. Thanks to the very man you want dead -- Cabdan. He orchestrated that fight. And when you lost, he saw an opportunity. He didn’t let you die... No, he had you sewn up, shipped off to a laboratory, treated like a broken toy. Probed. Altered. Twisted. Mutated. Your body has been flooded with so much darkness, it’s a wonder you’re still alive... But you won’t last much longer. Soon, your brain will be mush. Your soul... dust. Your spirit's presence in this sea of blackness, in the bowels of where the world was created... Signifies that your soul is not long for this life. You walk the rope between life and death...!"

  Barr’s skull throbbed with the weight of this revelation. The words burrowed deep into his mind, planting a seed of despair.

  Barr: "I can’t die yet... Not yet..."

  Screeching Voice: "Oh, I fully agree... You are of far more use to me alive -- a living puppet fights harder than a dead one!"

  Barr: "I'M NOT A FUCKING PUPPET!"

  Screeching Voice: "Human, puppet, sack of meat... What does it matter? You want to live. And I want you to live. That’s why I offer you this deal: become one with me. I will give you strength beyond mortal comprehension. In return, you will kill. Quickly, painlessly. No hesitation. No remorse."

  Barr’s breath caught.

  Barr: "You want me to... to kill? Just like that?"

  Screeching Voice: "In your youth, your heart aligned perfectly with my purpose: to end suffering through death. The experiments performed on you serve the same goal. That’s why I suggest you spare the scientists -- if you can -- but it’s no matter to me if you don’t. Just kill. Painlessly. Swiftly. End their misery... All of their misery."

  Barr: "... What’s the catch?"

  The voice chuckled, dark and amused.

  Screeching Voice: "There is no catch. I give you power, and you use it to kill. That’s the deal."

  Barr’s thoughts churned like a storm. The voice couldn’t be trusted -- that much he was certain of. But what choice did he have? Dying here would accomplish nothing. At least this way, he had a chance to settle his scores.

  Barr: "... Fine. You want me to kill?! It’ll be my fucking pleasure...!"

  The tar surged forward, invading his body, filling every pore, every cavity.

  Screeching Voice: "Then may you be reborn as the savior of all beings..."

  The tar flooded his eye sockets, dissolving his vision. He screamed in agony.

  Screeching Voice: "... May you become blind to the temptations of this world..."

  It forced itself into his mouth, tearing his tongue free in a gush of blood.

  Screeching Voice: "... May you never savor the spoils of your deeds..."

  It pierced his elbows, ripping his arms clean off.

  Screeching Voice: "... May you never use your hands to inflict pain upon others."

  A torrent of tar exploded from his ears, his nose, mingling with his blood. Then, silence. The pain was gone.

  Screeching Voice: "May you better hear the cries of the suffering, so you may end their pain. May you smell the blood, sweat, and tears of the anguished, so you may find them swiftly..."

  The tar molded itself into new arms -- sleek, black, and inhuman. They glimmered faintly like polished obsidian, their sharp fingers twitching with latent power.

  Screeching Voice: "... And may you release the beings of this universe from their torment... One life at a time."