《My sweet, sweet, Jade》 Context Context: Neuroplasticity: The malleability of the human brain. From ages 0-25, the structure of the human mind constantly changes. Why are elderly folks so set in their ways? Why do some people seem incapable of learning? Neuroplasticity is the answer. Now reader, I want to ask you a question. And I want you to really think about it. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. What would happen if the neuroplasticity of the human brain lasted from ages 0-45. How intelligent would the average human be? How much common sense would find itself flipped on its head by the superior set of beliefs, worldviews, and skill sets all contained within one person? You''re about to find out, dear reader. To add fuel to the fire, pain forces the brain to change. The most successful people of modern society typically suffer a lot in their childhood. This is no coincidence. High amounts of pain during periods of high neuroplasticity is what creates a genius How much would the brain¡¯s structure change if it was subjected to far greater pain for a much longer time than anyone else¡¯s? And to someone who has undergone this change, what would they be called? They would be called a Savant, dear reader. Without further ado, I present the train wreck waiting to happen, ¡°My sweet, sweet, Jade.¡± Opening Scene I open the closet door and walk outside into the scene of carnage. It''s as if time stands still as the villagers leer at my appearance in shock. I kneel down to my savior''s desecrated body and give her a kiss. There''s a yearning deep inside me. I wish she was awake. Just for 1 second. That she could just see my face. That she could just realize that all her efforts were not in vain. This wish will never come true. To her, I''m nothing but a vegetable. To her, life was one of endless giving, suffering, and being taken from. That is an absolute truth. And as such, it will never change. A pitchfork comes rushing at me and I calmly block it by letting it pierce through the palm of my hand. It still hurts like hell. To the point that I can''t think. To the point that there''s an irresistible compulsion to twist my face in agony, and shift my balance to avoid the pitchfork clearing away anymore of my flesh. But even compulsions can be resisted with enough exposure to pain. I stare into the man''s eyes. Every wrinkle in his face, every light in his eye, every slight shift in his expression tells me all I need to know. This man¡­ is simple. I understand him. And so I speak through that lens of understanding. "It is righteous... to smite evil. You are one of God''s warriors. God must look kindly upon you for always doing what is just." "Shut up Heretic! One of your demonic nature shall not say his name in vain!" "I am... demonic? I was not aware of this. What is it that makes something demonic? And how can I repent before my death?" "You can not repent! Vile creature! All that''s left for you is to take a trip to hell!" The pitchfork digs deeper into my palm, and my expression caves in, so I carve the pain into a dejected look of suffering and remorse. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "That is saddening... I wish there was something I could do for the good men and women here today. I, too, was a righteous human just like you all before what seems like just a moment ago to me. I was caught in a demonic trap and tortured there for what felt like an eternity. The trap must''ve corrupted me. Won''t you listen to my story before my eternity in hell?¡± "Thou shall not listen to Satans whisper! Do not let the conniving hellspawn persuade you with his words! Do not be compelled by its plea for sympathy! Kill it now!" The pitchfork pins me to the ground by my palm, knocking me flat on my back. A blade comes at me while I''m on the ground and I block it with my other palm. The pain cuts me off from reality, but I''ve already obtained the information I needed. And my body''s already decided how to act. So the play continues without my direction. "I have been transformed into a clever and conniving demon. I would beg you to end me before I utter another word, but I still have a burning desire for repentance. I beg of you, bind my hands, tighten rope around my ankles, gag my mouth, Command me to not speak unless spoken to. And if I ever violate this rule, cut me until I become obedient. You know better than I do how frail and weak this body is. It could not resist no matter how hard it tried. It is inside me. This demon is special... it holds all the knowledge and secrets of this world... You may force it to reveal the locations and identities of other demons and witches. This is a one-time chance to purge the demons that have power to do physical harm... I can feel it taking me over... Righteous men and women... I know you will do the right thing." "Do not do as the demon says! Its words are vile and solicitous! Do not let it corrupt you! Finish it off!" A demonic smile stretches across the demon''s face, almost as if his previous identity has disappeared completely. The demon then stretches out its neck, as if to beckon the righteous people to slit its throat. "The man is gone! It is only the demon now! Feel no guilt and let your aim be true while I''ve pinned it down!" "Wait James. The demon seems to want us to kill it. Maybe we should be cautious." Upon hearing this, the demon starts panicking and acting like it wants to avoid being killed. But the righteous men are no fools. They see through the demon''s tricks. Before the crippled man was taken over completely by the demon, he could see its thoughts, and the truths of the world were revealed to him as well. The crippled victim gave them valuable advice with his last breath. May he rest in peace. By consensus, it was quickly decided that the demon was to be bound and tortured for its secrets. Should it show any signs of corrupting those that hear its words, it was to be put down. As long as it was useful, it would be kept alive. However, it was to be kept malnourished, and eternally too weak to resist. . . . Now listen to the demon''s thoughts: ¡­ It was a gamble. I gambled on their perception of their identity being "righteous" or "just". I gambled on them knowing the truth behind my past. I gambled on their likelihood to be captivated by my words¡­ Which created the hesitance necessary to prevent their blades from immediately striking a hole through my throat. I gambled on their proclivity to the human tendency to act contrarian to an adversary''s desires. I gambled on their stupidity. I was lucky. But from now on, I won¡¯t need luck. I have time. And with this time, I swear upon your death, Jade. I will kill every man, woman and child involved with your desecration. I will come back for your roasted body, and I will give it all the love that you could never have. Even if you are just a skeleton by the time I reach you. I will snuggle with you every night. I¡¯ll let your last words echo throughout my ear for the rest of eternity And every time, I¡¯ll lovingly respond, ¡°I won¡¯t be ok without you.¡± I will hug you, kiss you, feed you. I will do everything you''ve done for me and more. I will love you until the end of time¡­ My sweet, sweet, Jade. Chapter 1: The Savant I open the closet door and walk outside into the scene of carnage. It''s as if time stands still as the villagers leer at my appearance in shock. I kneel down to my savior''s desecrated body and give her a kiss. There''s a yearning deep inside me. I wish she was awake. Just for 1 second. That she could just see my face. That she could just realize that all her efforts were not in vain. This wish will never come true. To her, I''m nothing but a vegetable. To her, life was one of endless giving, suffering, and being taken from. That is an absolute truth. And as such, it will never change. A pitchfork comes rushing at me and I calmly block it by letting it pierce through the palm of my hand. It still hurts like hell. To the point that I can''t think. To the point that there''s an irresistible compulsion to twist my face in agony, and shift my balance to avoid the pitchfork clearing away anymore of my flesh. But even compulsions can be resisted with enough exposure to pain. I stare into the man''s eyes. Every wrinkle in his face, every light in his eye, every slight shift in his expression tells me all I need to know. This man¡­ is simple. I understand him. And so I speak through that lens of understanding. "It is righteous... to smite evil. You are one of God''s warriors. God must look kindly upon you for always doing what is just." "Shut up Heretic! One of your demonic nature shall not say his name in vain!" "I am... demonic? I was not aware of this. What is it that makes something demonic? And how can I repent before my death?" "You can not repent! Vile creature! All that''s left for you is to take a trip to hell!" A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The pitchfork digs deeper into my palm, and my expression caves in, so I carve the pain into a dejected look of suffering and remorse. "That is saddening... I wish there was something I could do for the good men and women here today. I, too, was a righteous human just like you all before what seems like just a moment ago to me. I was caught in a demonic trap and tortured there for what felt like an eternity. The trap must''ve corrupted me. Won''t you listen to my story before my eternity in hell? "Thou shall not listen to Satans whisper! Do not let the conniving hellspawn persuade you with his words! Do not be pulled by sympathy! Kill it now!" The pitchfork pins me to the ground by my palm, knocking me flat on my back. A blade comes at me while I''m on the ground and I block it with my other palm. The pain cuts me off from reality, but I''ve already obtained the information I needed. And my body''s already decided how to act. So the play continues without my direction. "I have been transformed into a clever and conniving demon. I would beg you to end me before I utter another word, but I still have a burning desire for repentance. I beg of you, bind my hands, tighten rope around my ankles, gag my mouth, Command me to not speak unless spoken to. And if I ever violate this rule, cut me until I become obedient. You know better than I do how frail and weak this body is. It could not resist no matter how hard it tried. It is inside me. This demon is special... it holds all the knowledge and secrets of this world... You may force it to reveal the locations and identities of other demons and witches. This is a one-time chance to purge the demons that have power to do physical harm... I can feel it taking me over... Righteous men and women... I know you will do the right thing." "Do not do as the demon says! Its words are vile and solicitous! Do not let it corrupt you! Finish it off!" A demonic smile stretches across the demon''s face, almost as if his previous identity has disappeared completely. The demon then stretches out its neck, as if to beckon the righteous people to slit its throat. "The man is gone! It is only the demon now! Feel no guilt and let your aim be true while I''ve pinned it down!" "Wait James. The demon seems to want us to kill it. Maybe we should be cautious." Upon hearing this, the demon starts panicking and acting like it wants to avoid being killed. But the righteous men are no fools. They see through the demon''s tricks. Before the crippled man was taken over completely by the demon, he could see its thoughts, and the truths of the world were revealed to him as well. The crippled victim gave them valuable advice with his last breath. May he rest in peace. By consensus, it was quickly decided that the demon was to be bound and tortured for its secrets. Should it show any signs of corrupting those that hear its words, it was to be put down. As long as it was useful, it would be kept alive. However, it was to be kept malnourished, and eternally too weak to resist. . . . Now listen to the demon''s thoughts: It was a gamble. I gambled on their perception of their identity being "righteous" or "just". I gambled on them knowing the truth behind my past. I gambled on their likelihood to be captivated by my words. Creating the hesitance necessary to prevent their blades from immediately striking a hole through my throat. I gambled on their proclivity to the human tendency to act contrarian to an adversary''s desires. I gambled on their stupidity. I was lucky. But from now on I won¡¯t need luck. I have time. And with this time, I swear upon your death, Jade. I will kill every man, woman and child involved with your desecration. I will come back for your roasted body, and I will give it all the love that you could never have. Even if you are just a skeleton by the time I reach you. I will snuggle with you every night. I will hug you, kiss you, feed you. I will do everything you''ve done for me and more. I will love you until the end of time¡­ My sweet, sweet, Jade. Chapter 2: The Demon How many days has it been? No food, no water, I can barely breathe. Do they intend to kill me like this? Do they think demons have superhuman resilience? I thought that I''d won. I never would''ve guessed that my plan was just a method of checkmating myself. I really can''t believe I''m actually going to die like this. It''s surreal, but the guttural pain of hunger is no lie. It''s been so long since I''ve been hungry, I forgot what it felt like. It''s an empty, lustful feeling. The pain pulls on my soul and ravages me. It hollows out my weakness, changing me into someone willing to consumer another. The grisly grip of thirst chokes me almost as tightly as my restraints. There is a pounding in my palms where my flesh used to be. It''s difficult to think about anything except a way to make the pain disappear. It''s insane to me how much pain still infests my psychology. I lived in literal hell for over 20 years. compared to that, I''m in heaven right now. I must be feeling this way because of- "Vile demon! reveal the locations of the other creatures of hell or face judgement!" ¡°And why would I do tha-¡± (Squelch) ¡°D-don¡¯t be so hasty¡­ why don¡¯t we make a dea-¡± (Riiiiiip) ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ tell¡­ you¡­ please, just make it stop.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Speak!¡± ¡°The truth is¡­ I lied to the original inhabitor of this body. I can only tap into my divinity under specific conditions. Otherwise, I am nothing but a normal demon.¡± ¡°Lies!¡± (Teeaar) ¡°Please. Please just stop. I¡¯ll do anything for you to stop.¡± ¡°Speak truth!¡± ¡°That was the truth. If you want lies, just make the request and I¡¯ll be happy to oblige. ¡°Lies!¡± ¡°This is a human vessel. It needs food, drink, sunlight, social interaction, stretching room and sleep to function. A weak vessel makes for a weak spirit. Without proper sustenance, I can not make use of my divinity! ¡°Speak more lies heathen!¡± (Crack) . . . ¡°The demon won¡¯t speak!¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been at it for 5 days and it only spews the same lie!¡± ¡°We¡¯ve sprayed holy water on its wounds, Forced it to wear a cross and watched it writhe in agony, inflicted countless wounds on its vessel of flesh! Is the demon of unbreakable spirit?!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen that demon. Its eyes are glazed over. Its soul is conquered. Maybe it¡¯s barred from speaking by some sort of spell?¡± ¡°What if¡­ it¡¯s telling the truth?¡± ¡­ ¡°Preposterous!¡± ¡°But think about it. Humans have greater magical abilities when well fed. Would it be that strange for divinity to work in a similar way?¡± ¡­ ¡°Ok Jeffrey. We¡¯ll test your little theory. But if the demon gains strength and harms even a single soul, that damage will be your responsibility!¡± ¡°Well¡­ even if we feed it. With that body, I would be surprised if it could harm even a small child.¡± . . . And so, they righteous men & women begin resuscitating the demon. The work is primarily done by 1 sole caretaker. An angel who volunteered for the role out of selfless risk to her own wellbeing. Now, enter the present: As she squeezes a wet rag over the demon¡¯s wounds and cleans them to prevent infection. Undoubtedly, She has done this hundreds of times before. It is done with such care, that one might think the woman has sympathy for the demon. But do not be fooled. They are enemies. In an assertion of dominance, she digs her nail into one of the demon¡¯s deep wounds, and twists her finger inside of his flesh, mixing the gunk beneath her nails with his bloodstream. The demon jolts within its restraints and lets out a muffled howl. This howl is heard by no one. If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? The answer is no. This woman will be welcomed into heaven, live a joyful life, and be known as a lovely person who would not harm a fly. Why? Because not even god can hear muffled screams or see what goes on behind closed doors. ¡­ She wipes her nail off with a clean spot of the rag. Not a trace is left. This woman went on to be known as the woman so kind, that she was kind even to a demon. And in spite of her sadistic cruelty, even she believed herself to be an angel. Like a child who steps on an ant, there was no guilt. Because there was no crime. In fairytales, victims are shown sympathy. This is reality. In reality, victims are another way to say losers. Winners write the history books And so winners are justice. She was a winner. And that was all there was to it. Chapter 3: The Sadist ¡°Uurgh. I know it burns. I know it¡¯s cold! I know you¡¯re dying. But I¡¯m dying too. Right here with you. Even if we both have tp die together, I won¡¯t leave your side¡­ because¡­ I¡­ love digging my disgusting fingers into your flesh.¡± ¡°MMMMM!¡± jolting within my restraints, my breathing gradually slows. How¡­ dare they! How dare they corrupt the image of my Jade! I¡¯ll kill them! Death isn¡¯t enough! I won¡¯t be satisfied until Jade¡¯s rotted carcass is digging into their hot, lively flesh infecting them with god knows what! They¡¯ll pay¡­ (Door creaks open) The caretaker again. I hold back a gag and restrain my instinctual expression of fear. She¡¯s¡­ my only point of contact. The only person I can talk to, and maybe influence. The question is, how do I get her to take off this gag What do I know about her? What¡­ does she desire? My mind recalls her finger digging into my flesh, and the sadistic expression on her face as she did it. That was the only time I saw any trace of a smile on her face¡­ Are you kidding me universe? She walks over to a corner of the room and removes a blinder flooding the roof with light and blinding me. I jolt in my chair reactively, as if the light elicited the reaction from me. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Then take a deep breath¡­ And bite my tongue. Hard. ¡°MMMMMMMM!¡± ¡°MMMMmm¡± ¡°Mm¡­¡± God this hurts¡­ Why the hell did I think this was a good idea again? The woman walks towards me, presumably to check out what happened. We lock eyes, and a wretched smile stretches across her face. God¡­ help me. . . . She takes off the gag, looks inside my mouth, and presses on my half-severed tongue with her finger. I can feel myself slipping, ready to revert to the state I was in before Jade saved me. Jade¡­ I have to¡­ get revenge! My restraints are off! I have to think! I have to speak! I have to push through this! As soon as she takes her finger off my f****** tongue, I get into character. ¡°It always hurts¡­ when they didn¡¯t give me food, I¡¯d writhe in this chair all day¡­ demons are different from humans. When we take over a vessel, or hunger is 10x greater than theirs¡­ no human has ever felt as great of a pain as a demon¡¯s hunger.¡± I just wanted to express how grateful I am for the fact that I can eat¡­ It¡¯s not enough though. I just wish¡­ someone would bring more food. Still smiling, she puts the gag back on my mouth and walks out of the room. F***, I failed. I can¡¯t believe I failed that once in a lifetime chance! They¡¯re going to send in the deaf man to feed me again, and I¡¯ll stay stuck like this forever! The same trick won¡¯t work twice on anyone. Dammit¡­ I¡¯m sorry Jade. I¡­ I failed you. I had one job, and I¡¯m useless until the end. A failure like me doesn¡¯t deserve you¡­ I should just provoke them to kill me. . . . (The next morning, the door creaks open) It¡¯s the sadist. And she¡¯s brought! ¡­ food???