Chapter One - Part Two

Hedzel lay on the floor helpless to the taunts of the one keeping Him company, the room was dusty as ever seemingly collecting along the hairs of His body.
Never touching His skin, Just hovering over like a man on a wire in a circus act, flakes gathering on the surface of Hedzels hair like a snowfall.
At first Hedzel had thought maybe the paint was chipping off and He would be right but it would come from the ceiling falling around Him and on Him as well.
When He would lift His head gray smudges would cling to his face gathering more each time he lay His head back down.
"Please" Hedzel would say in a weak and parched voice.
Daemon let out an inquisitive hum to respond to the man on the floor.
"hm? What is it now?"
"Please can you clear this dust away? It's hard to breath."
"Aren't we a needy Ned.. like it'll do any good anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"More come, gather and fall again, it's really best if you stayed as you were."
Daemon squat down next to Hedzel who was choking on the stiff air around Him, Daemon grabbed a few pieces of gray matter off Hedzels hair and rubbed the course flakes between His fingers.
"My what a dirty boy you are Hedzel." He said showing Hedzel His hand which now had dark gray spots on them.
"Please, you can go if you aren't going to help me."
"Now why would I leave my favorite guy?"
"It's unbearable in here."
Hedzel started into a coughing fit blowing bits of grey everywhere as it would settle back down, drifting and floating to the floor again.
" How do you think I feel, stuck in here with a guy who lays on the floor depressed all day and gets ashes everywhere. I suppose it comes with any Job though."
Daemon remarked so casually that it took a while for the words to stop bouncing around in His head, He was weak and not in any condition to keep His cognitive skills in check.
"Ashes?"
"Yes, ashes Hedzel, ashes from fire, soot, Burt remains of once living things, The breath of a volcano... Though I must say it does have a nice feel between one's fingers."
Hedzel could see Daemons hand rubbing his finger tips together in a circular motion.
A confused look gathered on Hedzels face as His totality was in the belief that the substance around Him was Dust and not ashes that seemed to gather from no where in particular.
Weakly He pulled Himself across the floor a fraction of an inch at a time since He was so broken from the very experience He was in.
His mental scars were formed and showed as the wounds had healed over but the showing of His past stuck out seaming it's way across His memory like a zipper on a pair of pants.
What had happened was unknown to Him and blockaded under the scar tissue caused by His past and He wasn't quite sure if He wanted to know what had happened for fear of the truth sticking Him like a sword twisting in His flesh.
“Afraid of the truth are we Hedzel?”
Daemon asked rhetorically as He watched Hedzels mind racing to think back, eyes twitching in a fevered search for a remnant of the one thing He seemingly could not grasp onto.
His mind was like that of a madman throwing books frantically off a shelf in search of something important hidden among them.
Hedzel felt torn between the compulsory need to remember the truth and the constantly foreboding fear of finding it at the same time.
As His Mind reached a fevered pitch His skull started feeling as if it could burst into flames as a migraine ripped across His brain in an intensity that covered His mind in a blanket of pain.
Defenseless He lay on the floor, waiting for His time of pain to abandon it's assult His body for that of another, His body shaking in a fit of pain as if He were a can of paint in a hardware Paint mixer.