Mike and Melissa: Descent

by seacatgirls

Summary:

“Could you promise me one thing, though? Promise, that no matter what happens, that you won't forget about me.”

-Melissa

If only Mike Chenoweth knew the life of ruin that this innocuous dream would lead him down, slowly suffering at the hands of a benevolent tulpa.

Chapter 1

Summary:

RETCONNED. CHAPTER 3 IS WHERE THE STORY STARTS FOR REAL

“Could you promise me one thing, though? Promise, that no matter what happens, that you won't forget about me.”

-Melissa

Unbeknownst to Mike, that promise he made would alter the rest of his life as he knew it, permanently changing him as well. He woke up in his bed, staring up at his ceiling pondering over what it had meant. Was he crazy like he had said so clearly..? Ha... Ahaha. He knew that now, he had to return to the life he hated so much. Back to the friends that didn't even like him, back to that stupid composition class. As he sat up, his arm brushed against something furry, his tired brain not thinking twice about it. It was only when he heard a small voice he only slightly recognized that everything truly began for Mike Chenoweth.

“Ahhh... Good morning, Mike.”

“Good morn-”

Mike's head snapped back to the source of the voice, seeing Melissa, the strange skunk girl that had appeared in his dream laying next to where he had always slept.

“M...Melissa...?”

“Hey! Surprised to see me?”

"...Oh my god... I seriously thought you were some kind of dream. I-” He began stammering in the middle of his sentence, prompting Melissa to assume that he had broken his promise the night before.

“...Mike..? Did you break our pinky promise?” Melissa's eyes held some kind of fear, coiled around a tinge of sadness that was only painfully obvious to Mike.

“No, no no! I'd rather take a gun to my head before forgetting. What I was gonna say was that... That I've never been happier to find someone in my bed, haha..."

Melissa's ears perked up as he said this, smiling so genuinely that it made the morning sunshine brighter from Mike's point of view.

"And nothing makes me happier to know that you feel that way. You see... If you had come to reject my existence... I would shrivel up and die right before your eyes..."

The two beings, human and puca, shared a moment of silence. Holding her hands in his, Mike looked over Melissa with earnest eyes, speaking in such a soft way that even Melissa had never seen him act.

"Then I'll never leave your side, alright? We'll always be together."

Chapter 2

Summary:

RETCONNED. CHAPTER 3 IS WHERE THE STORY STARTS FOR REAL

The days had started to blend together after Melissa showed up. Even so, she really had changed Mike for the better, hadn’t she? Every day had somehow seemed brighter, his teachers less fucking grating. They still were, but he really did notice a change. Finally, finally he didn’t hate college every waking second. In a way, it was kind of like therapy, if that even makes any sense. Yeah, it doesn’t. Whatever. Mike and Melissa seemed to be getting closer too, so, so close…

“Ahh… I love you, I love you, Mikeeee…”

Every night was fuzzy, so dreamlike. He remembered her soft fur against his broad form, but he couldn’t remember a lot for some reason. He didn’t think about it too hard, he had no reason to. Why would he question such bliss? Even that day where it felt so alien felt so far away… and yet so near.

“Hey, Melissa?”

“…Yeah?”

“Thanks for loving me. I was so close to… to giving up that day. I just felt nothing ever since she left me, y’know?”

“…Mhm. I’m here to help, after all.”

He didn’t mention it, but he noticed. She seemed… distant that day. More secluded, too. Still, if he questioned anything, he wasn’t sure if she would disappear. After all, she was nothing more than… No, no, why would he even think that? That’s cruel…! Shaking off all traces of doubt left in him, he rested his head on her shoulder, drifting off into sleep… It was stupid to doubt anything. He could feel her veins pulsing, he could feel her furred flesh pulsating. Of course she was real, of course… Why would he doubt her…?

Almost as if she heard his thoughts, he felt her finger trace alongside his jawline, feeling her purr. This marked the day, the day he completely believed in her…

Wasn’t romance so sweet, like ambrosia and nectar? Sometimes it would begin to coil around you, enveloping anyone who dared to sip from its goblet. It was a hand of fate that guided the two together, and the other hand put the goblet up to Mike’s lips… It was a beautiful sight to anyone that would watch willingly, wasn’t it? In his wonderful dreams, he continued to live alongside Melissa. The two were truly unified in all stretches of life, be it in the realm of spirits or humans. Even without being engaged… they were bound to each other for all eternity. Her royal purple fur filled his mind, her eyes all he could think about. Even so, he still succeeded in school with flying colors. Had everything gone easy, or had being with her… Enlightened him?

 

It was euphoric to see the world dance in his palm. His teachers exclaimed at him, his brilliance stumping them. Even the hellish compositing class so far behind in the world of mortality. This was euphoria in its clearest form..! Everyone was beneath him and Melissa, even the friends he had made so distant. Over time, even going to class seemed so pointless… Why would he listen to such meager people talk to him about things he is already so aware of…? Preposterous…. Pointless! Stupid…!

 

All one would ever need to achieve such a high… is the perfect reaper. The perfect partner. Another half. Nobody else had figured out true love, this endless feeling of euphoria…!

 

Mike’s mind was no longer clear, so true to his principles… Call it insane ranting, he was no longer listening to the cries of those he called mortal. But at the end of it all, he was still… Mike Chenoweth… A man poisoned by hubris.

Notes:

fuck you all

Chapter 3: Epitaph [STORY REBOOT]

"Promises wrapped in the veil of delusion... never end well. They bring about tragedy and pain unseen by mortal eyes. Why hadn't I learned that before? Why hadn't I realized that her soft touch and purrs were nothing but a love-starved delusion? At the same time, even though I know that she is not--and can never be--real, the hole she left in my soul is tangible. It burns. Everything burns and withers away. And even though I can never retract my sins in the name of a hollow love... all I can do is warn. I cry Wolf so that those suffering in my stead may understand their position. They must understand... nay... avoid the mistakes I've made."

 

Such cryptic words were written in Mike Chenoweth's last work. A book that many wanted to lower into his grave with him... but those who understood vehemently disagreed. They had read his last tearful warnings. Perhaps this story was fated to fall into the hands of Man--Chenoweth a modern Prometheus. Alas, instead of a blessing from the Olympic gods... what he delivered was his last rites. He must have thanked the hands of Fate for telling his tale to the right people. He must have thanked the heavens above for not letting his prayers remain unanswered.

 

And thus... We plunge the knife into the psyche of Mike Chenoweth and drag out its scarred entrails.

 

It's what has to be done... for him to rest in peace.

Notes:

gonna be completely 100 percent genuine here I lost the master doc to this fic like a year ago and now I'm just ballin heehee haw haw

Chapter 4

College. Such a tiring thing, such a drag on the concept of humanity. Was I to learn anything new at all, or was I to waste away in a sea of collective consciousness? Those who I gazed upon attentively taking notes on such meaningless lectures... did they know it meant nothing in the end? Did anybody in this lecture hall realize... all the professor spouted was the same rhetoric about rectangles over and over?

 

Was I the only one who realized... the inherent futility of it all?

 

As perhaps a form of silent rebellion against the fate that brought me here... I write on my blank paper. Over and over, I write. It's meaningless, childish, and I seem like a hypocrite for complaining about it all. I don't care, I don't care. Maybe when the world matures around me... that's when I can change. But right now... All I do is write "poop" across my blank page. It's sloppy... but I don't care.

 

When will the endless yapping end...? When can I escape from this prison my own money landed me in?

I shouldn't have left my dorm today. But even back there the blood in my veins turns to lava.

 

There is no home for me to return to.