Of Corruption

He saw the sun through the foliage and scowled. He's never liked sunlight. It always felt so alien on his skin. It was a fact not helped by how his skin has always been pale. A not-so-small part of him wanted to find who designed the sun and wring their bodies dry of blood. Maybe even sup on the blood himself.

However, those were thoughts for another time. Currently, he was journeying into a curious fixture that had always been near his home. Although that was relative closeness. It was certainly closer than his supposed Aunt's home.

He'd left for the forest on the dusk of the day prior but he still hadn't reached his destination. Granted, he had slept for 4 hours of that time and only had the mobility that a 4-year-old body offered.

He was in the middle of considering the benefits of not having a body when he felt a shift in the grass around him.

He heard a low rumbling sound and if he didn't know better; had he not been able to see, he would've thought in an earthquake. Instead, he knew it was stirring.

The very ground he stood on, alive.

And, from what he could parse from the tone of ominous grumbling, hostile.

Faster than he could react, a nearby tree sprouted a new branch that grew out to impale him, and, for all his pomp and arrogance, he was still a child. Pain wracked through his body, enough to make a grown man cry.

The boy was pinned by one tree's branch to another tree's trunk and any normal child would've feared. Would've wailed out in agony.

He? He simply smiled and watched as his blood flowed out, more than anybody had a right to contain. It seeped into the ground and corrupted it.

He'd honestly planned for peaceful accord in their meeting but he'd read about it plenty in one of his many books. All plans were doomed to failure. His brows were brought together in concentration, blood still flooding out of him.

Was it that all plans were doomed to failure or only most? There wouldn't be much order if no plans ever came to fruition.

It took the plant body's fear spiking for him to bring his attention back to the situation. All the trees, plants, and even the ground rushed toward him.

He could see the plan. The terrain would consume him before his blood could spread to every corner of the land. Pity the fool who thought they could ensnare him with something so simple.

By his will, he fell asleep. He exited the waking world, in body and soul, and woke anew on a platform. More accurately, a patch of ground floating in a void, not space but much the same. He looked up to the sky and willed the debris out of the way. Floating pieces of buildings he knew nothing of, parting to give a clear view of what stood in the upwards of his realm. Upwards, for it was not a sky. Simply an expanse of nothing he designated as up.

He sighed, relieved the tedium of long walking was over. The moon was there, beautiful and resplendent.

On his small patch of ground, in his all too real dream, he rested. And when the body of earth that was once a plant entity entered the expanse of nothing, he smiled; it was a content thing.

With that over, he supposed that he could try building next. His dreamscape wasn't a sufficient home and it wouldn't do for a prince to leave a good home only to settle for homelessness.

Mergo decided that something great be built and it was so.

Of a Dream Past

Alex checked the time and cursed. He'd have to shower, he smelled to horrid not to and had about 20 minutes to go before school started. It was times like these that he sent quiet prayers, to whoever was listening, for giving him a house a 2-minute walk away from school.

He worked through his morning routine but right after he'd thought he put his clothes on, he looked into his full-body mirror and found his little brother exposed to all eyes. He had a second to wonder when he got that mirror before the figure in his reflection started screaming.

It was a pained guttural thing that sent his head spinning. Then he woke up.


Of a Dream Past

He doesn't know why it started but he had a horrible cough throughout the day. His lungs had decided not to operate and, midway through the second period, he knew he had to go home.

"Excuse me, Mr. Patrick." If Alex took a little happiness out of interrupting his Chemistry teacher with a justifiable reason, he'd never admit to it. He'll forever curse the Alex of 8 months ago for selecting the course."

"Please save your questions for later, Alex."

That irritated him. "Mr. Patrick, I just want-"

Self-important as he was, Mr. Patrick cut him off. "I'll be calling for questions in a second. Just wait."

He could almost feel a vein bursting in his skull and he probably would've screamed if it wasn't for how much his lungs were acting up.

He immediately stood up and moved for the door in his coughing fit. He was pissed. That had been exactly why he wanted to leave the classroom in the first place.

If Alex had any air in him, he'd be cursing out his teacher while ripping his fucking throat out.

Abruptly, everything went black.

Of a Dream Past

He woke up on a staircase winding around what looked to be a large pillar. It was old. Everything was made of dull gray stone that looked like it had seen better centuries. The staircase was in some cylindrical-looking tower; he was pretty high up from the looks of it. There was some space between the stairs and the tower walls so he looked off the railings, only to be greeted with a chasm of darkness below.

He drew a sharp breath and fell backward, onto his rear, bracing for an onslaught of pain. Nothing his lungs were fine.

However, he heard a nasty sloshing sound. He brought his hands up to see them and noticed the blood. Small rivers of blood flowing down the staircases. Looking up the stairs, he saw spectral women in bride gowns, and, looking downwards, he found much the same.

"Holy shit- holy shit- holy fuck." He wanted to tell himself that it was just a dream but the blood was real. He knew it was real. He wanted to cower into a tiny ball. This was not how he saw his day going.

"Oh? You're dreaming! That's delightful." What? "No one dreams properly here. Everyone's always off somewhere I don't know. Hm… What's your name?"

Suddenly, from between the woman on the stairs above him, a deathly pale boy appeared. He looked into his eyes and knew he was the owner of this tower. He knew that the blood on his hands belonged to the boy. Alex screamed and ran off the stairs into the void. Then he woke up.

Double Fuck.

He swerved his head, left to right, and noticed that he was in an unfamiliar room. He held his breath, noting that he still felt fine, and decided to call out to the only familiar aspect of the place.


"Holy shit-" She scrambled over to him. "You nearly gave me a heart attack - passing out in school - what happened?"

His breath caught, his mind flashing with images of his strange not-dream. He chose to answer in the safest way.

"Sick." He started. "I was sick. It was a little hard to breathe. Coughing a bit. It got worse. I was coughing enough for it to be noticeable. I thought I'd just power through it but it got bad at second period. Real bad. By the time I realized I couldn't handle it anymore, it was a few seconds before I- well I passed out, I guess."

He looked down. Pursing his lips waiting for something. He wasn't sure what but he knew he found it when his mom said-

"You're an idiot." A deep sigh. "I knew it before but this is really driving the point home."

He winced. "In my defe-"

"Defense nothing. Next time you're sick stay home. None of 'that power through it' bullshit. But for now, how are you feeling? You don't look bad maybe a little pale."

He thinks to the pale boy but forces his mind away from that. "Fine, actually, it was probably an allergic reaction or something."

He bit the inside of his cheek, a nervous tick of his, and winced.

She stared into his eyes for a few seconds. "I don't believe you. Don't think you can get out of this by saying you're okay. You'll be in the hospital until the doctor says you're fine."

Of course, soon after, the doctor said just that.

For all intents and purposes, he was right as rain and the doctor thought it likely was just a bad reaction to something he rarely interacts with. She was wrong.

As he was leaving the hospital he rolled his tongue across his teeth one more time. They were sharper than he remembered.

Of a Dream Past.

Mergo was quite happy with the mortal. Enough so that he saved him. He'd been reading about it in a book. People who save lives are magnanimous rulers. He liked the sound of it. Magnanimous Mergo.

He'd also read that humans were sheep that should bend to the will of the enlightened. He thinks the first one was written a bit better but the second did have some good points.

He's a little upset that he came into his realm before he was okay with the way it looked but he was grateful for what it brought to his attention. He was subconsciously spreading his plague and, loathe as he was to admit it, he needed guidance.

Of a Dream Past

Alex didn't sleep the day after. He drank coffee to get him through the following night. Through the following day; a surprisingly normal one.

He'd thought more people would care that he passed out in class. Granted, he got a few 'are you okay's but that was always the extent of it. Somewhat of a sobering realization but one that he should've expected, he supposed.

However, the biggest surprise of the day was getting home and sitting on his couch. He'd thought he'd be watching something to stay awake; he'd seen that there was a marathon on the cable. Instead, he instantly shut his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was lying, his vision covered by one pale boy, looming above him.

In the far back of his mind, he mused that he's been finding himself screaming much over the course of 2 days.

"Stop screaming you irritating gnat, I'm not going to hurt you." He wisely stopped.

"I actually want to help you, believe it or not." That made him pause.

He scrambled away from the boy and sat up. He took note of where he was this time. The tower was gone, replaced instead by books, lots of them. A study, maybe?

"Well, that's not exactly true now that I think about it." Alex froze. "I'm here to give you the opportunity to help yourself. Read, little beast. Perhaps you'll learn something."

And he simply disappeared from the study, vanishing into a white mist.

Alex was left feeling a little numb. He was afraid. He probably should've been panicking. Or maybe he'd already squeezed that out of his system. For a few seconds, he was too afraid to speak. Too afraid of the possibility that his speaking would get the boy to come back.

He whispered. "Am I good?"

Upon getting no response he figured he was in the clear and exhaled.

He allowed himself a small smile. It was fantasy-like. Horrifying but he was in a magical study. He willed himself to optimism. He willed himself to believe that he was simply overreacting before.

It was easier to accept than not. If that thing wanted him dead, he'd probably be dead. There was some comfort to be found there, even if it was of a fragile kind.

He turned his eyes to the wall of the study behind the desk, where he figured the door would be. It was not there. Now that he noticed it, it wasn't much of a study.

Looking up, he saw shelves for walls stretching into pitch-black darkness. He wasn't in a study. He was in a room with a desk, books, and no exit.

There was a gnawing feeling that he'd never be able to leave the room but he crushed those thoughts. He'd probably be back when he woke up.

"Fuck it. I'm reading."

A/N: There's a lot of proof that death doesn't have the same meaning for Great Ones that it does 'mortals.' The Nightmare of Mensis was made by Micolash channeling the stillborn Mergo's power. The Orphan called out to Kos and, even in death, Kos called down a barrage of lightning. I like to believe that none of the powers I give Mergo are arbitrary and can be seen reflected in some aspects of Bloodborne.

I'll say I'm sorry for the lack of MCU elements in the first chapter but I can promise that they'll be there. I'm open to and would appreciate criticism.

Sorry for the lengthy A/N.