Chapter Five: A Taste

She woke up gasping for air. She turned her head left and right and was relieved at the sight of her blanket, her dresser and her bookcase. Her bookcase. She was safe inside her bedroom, but the smell of morning disturbed her—it was midnight.

Sisi had a dream, but for Isis, it was a nightmare. After the third voice had corrupted their mind, Isis tried her hardest to evict the foreign being, fought to dissuade Sisi from listening to it. It was the darkness, the essence of eternity that opened the gap inside their psyche. It whispered glory and greatness and godhood. Isis saw it differently. She saw suffering.

There was no name attributed to the third voice. They just called it The Third.

Sisi argued with herself again, debated on the pros and cons of immortality. The big pro was not dying. But at what price? Sisi had never considered the price, and she had doubts after the birth of Isabel, a sacrificial child. It was a terrible word that Sisi wanted to erase from her vocabulary—sacrifice. Isis repeated it again and again just to convince Sisi to stop the ritual.

And it worked. Isis took control. The plan was this: take all the books of life and then burn it. Isis didn't consider the possibility of harming the souls bound to it, but it was okay. Isabel was safe since the child was not bound to any book. Isis got up from the bed, but before she could reach the bookcase, her legs stopped.

Images flashed in her mind. She saw herself. Her skin wrinkling and crusting and drying and turning into dust. Her eyes bore the expression of fear, and it burst into dust. As her skin and guts blew against the wind, her bones remained. Then it shattered like glass.

Sisi sank to the floor and screamed. Isis begged her to push on.

“A taste.”

The thrumming sound returned. She turned her head towards the door that led to the living room. The thrumming grew louder. It wanted her out of this room. It wanted her to forget the books. Sisi struggled to stand up as if her body weighed twice its size. When she balanced herself, she exited the room.

The lights were off outside. Only moonlight and the headlights from passing cars illuminated the inside of her home. She unknowingly stepped inside the kitchen and spotted a faint glow by the sink. Plumes of light emanated from the glow.

As Sisi neared it, she learned it was a steel cup containing a bright liquid. The liquid blinded her as she stared directly at it.

“A taste.”

She grabbed the cup. It was cool inside her palm, and it weighed as if it was made of air. The liquid sloshed around as she drew near it to her lips. Before she could take a sip, there were screaming and screaming, but the thrumming noise drowned it out.

A taste. Only a taste.

Chapter Four: Voices

Mr. and Mrs. Aset were wary of their only child. Sisi spent most of her time with her best friend that no one else could see but her. She looked as if she was talking to the air, to the grass, to the trees and to the toaster oven. If she was interrupted from her deep conversation with herself, Sisi lashed out. One time, her parents listened in on her dialogues, but they couldn't understand any word she was blurting out. For sure, it was not of the simlish language.

But Mr. and Mrs. Aset loved her anyway. Sisi was the heir of their legacy after all. They had given her the right education and the support to survive the next generation. As she grew to become a young adult, her parents told her of the legacy she would inherit. Sisi rejected them.

Her mother was distraught. Her father was incensed. It was the first time that Sisi received any yelling and screaming and swearing in her whole life. She was kicked out and was left with no inheritance, no simoleons, no support.

Homeless and penniless, Sisi slept at the park, enjoying her solitude and sustaining herself with what nature offered her. Fish from the lake fed her, and the voices inside her head accompanied her.

There were two voices: her own and her best friend Isis. Isis controlled Sisi's emotions. Isis was loving and affectionate when she felt like it, but she was also scary and dangerous when she wanted. Sisi sometimes tried to calm Isis down in her negative moods, and this struggle between two voices is what put people off.

Alone in the deep forest, Sisi stared at the night sky. The stars glowered bright as darkness surrounded the earth around her. She saw a shooting star arc across the heavens. Sisi made a wish. Her second voice, Isis, asked what she had wished for, but Sisi turned to her side and slept.

Morning came with a cool, calming breeze. As Sisi opened her eyes, the music of the birds were mute. She couldn't hear their music, the music that she listened intently to as the haze of dawn faded away.

A disturbing noise. Her eyes watered at the thrumming sound, warbling and garbling at the insides of her ear. Sisi called out to her second voice, but she didn't respond.

Sisi stood up, and the ground felt like it warped beneath her. The thrumming sound came from around her, above her and below. It was the trees, the grass, the gray sky, the coming rain. She reached for her bag, and the noise swelled. She opened the flap and found a large tome inside.

She jumped back and gasped. The book did not belong to her. She looked around, hoping to find a prankster watching behind the trees or bushes. There was no one there. She took the tome out and stared at it. The book had a tan color, and its texture felt like dried skin. On the face of the book was a large, black diamond that pulsed as if it consumed light around it.

Sisi stared at the diamond, peered deep inside its abyss. The thrumming sound stopped, and Sisi could only hear the whispers of an unknown being. It sang to her. It promised immortality.

Chapter Three: Books of Life

Sisi wanted to take her mind off her child. She called Emery Thornton, a friend from her past. She invited her over for spaghetti, a dish that Emery enjoyed. They caught up with one another, talked about Emery's mansion and the empire she had built from creating a videogame that had enslaved almost half of the population. Due to a non-disclosure agreement, the author of this entry is not allowed to divulge the title of said videogame.

The smell of parmesan cheese and freshly cut oregano suffused with Emery's essence—greed. It was pungent, a distinct scent from her recent captures. Greed smelled like an old newspaper drenched in gutter water and piss. Sisi held her breath and carried on, even though the smell made her gag.

After dinner, Emery said her goodbye. Sisi created a new book of life and wrote down Emery's name. She noticed how the words flowed naturally from pen to page. It was as if the book was writing itself. Her hand was merely a guide, a conduit of an arcane tale.

Sisi didn't know Emery's childhood, but the first chapter detailed how she was an only child and how she was raised by her two loving fathers. The next chapter told the story of the cowplant incident. It was the chapter in Emery's life that destroyed her family and her fortune. The death of her fathers was the birth of her greed.

Sisi closed Emery's book. She felt sick at reading every detail, every thought, every emotion that was available to her within pages. But her voyeuristic curiosity proved stronger after a couple of minutes.

Sisi reached for Cayden Little's book. As she skimmed through some chapters, Sisi couldn't recall writing any of the chapters. However, she did remember writing the last chapter, the chapter where Sisi had met Cayden for the first time. As she finished reading that chapter, she flipped to the next page and found another chapter she could not remember writing.

She read on. She read about Cayden's struggle with raising a child by himself. Isabel just started talking, and the child asked about her mother. As Sisi read on, she noticed that the empty pages were being written by a phantom writer. Ink appeared out of the page, and Sisi continued to read and read. The narrator was Cayden't thoughts, and Cayden thought ill of Sisi and her child.

Sisi closed the book. It was that moment the Sisi needed to confront her lover and meet her child. The third voice supported her on that decision as well.



 

Chapter Two: Birthing Blood

Sisi had the sudden compulsion to speak with a child, and she didn't hesitate when she sighted a boy that strutted in front of her home. She introduced herself, and the child was frozen in place as he witnessed her speak in tongues, which was normal for her insane self.

With the power of the Simcronomicon fused in her being, Sisi tasted the essence of soul. The boy's name was Marcus Matson, age 6.

It was said that music was the essence of soul. Marcus possessed the lilt of a singer and the confidence of a music hall artist. The child spoke of his CD collections, a bequethal from his father, passed down from legacy to legacy. As the minutes went by, Marcus said his goodbye to Sisi, and when Sisi returned home, she wrote down the name of the boy inside her book of life thus sealing the child to her ritual.

Three days later, Sisi felt something move inside her stomach. She wasn't hallucinating. Something was poking against her stomach. Sisi ran to the bathroom and tossed her grilled cheese from last night. It shouldn't surprise her at all, but the sensation of carrying something—a someone—irked her.

She opened her medicine cabinet and took out a stick for a pregnancy test. Minutes go by, and the test proved positive. She was eating for two.

Thrilled was not exactly the emotion she was experiencing. Rather, it was sadness. There was a tinge of joy since she was becoming mother, but in the end, the ritual was first. Always.

As a reasonable and respectable sim, Sisi called the father to tell him the news. He hung up as soon as she said the word. Believing that Cayden had left town and flew to the Simsahara Desert, Sisi sat down and thought the world as a cruel and lonely place. She was not exempt from this picture.

A knock on the door jolted her from that melancholy place, a place she was familiar with. She opened the door and was greeted by the shine of Cayden's pearly whites. He asked to feel the baby, asked when she was due. He asked what they would name the baby, asked if they would live together.

That melancholy place opened its doors to Sisi, beckoning her to come inside with promises of free milk chocolate flavored with morose. But she held her ground, and struggled to keep her smile. As the celebration of a soon-to-be father came to an end, Cayden begged Sisi to call him as soon as she was due.

Sisi closed the door as Cayden left. She touched her belly, rubbed it and patted it. A tear fell down from her chin to her navel.

When the time came to deliver the baby, Sisi didn't call Cayden. It was best to have the child and move it out in one quick motion.

Some describe childbirth as a magical process. In another reality, it is the stuff of horrors and nightmares that has screams, blood, knives and hooded beings. But this was another reality, a good and magical reality. There were screams, but there were no blood. Sisi held her tummy and, with one push, she gave birth to her child, a healthy baby girl.

She held the child in her arms, cooed at her and kissed her. What should she name her? And would Cayden like it? Sisi sifted through a list of names: Bo-Beep, Flim-Flarn, Habanube, Steve, Batman. She hit her head with her palm and snapped out of her insanity.

Isabel. A girls name. Wasn't it? After searching through the internet, Isabel is confirmed a girl's name.

She wanted to keep her, but the voice in her head, a third voice, a voice that was not her insane self, told her not to. The strong compulsion to leave the child outside her home was overwhelming, yet promise of immortality overpowered her. Sisi prayed to her deity. The child was taken away.

Chapter One: Lust at First Sight

Sisi psyched herself and pushed herself to meet new sims. She also argued with

herself that cream cheese is not made of moondust. This argument continued on while she exercised for a perfect body.

As she worked on her abs, Sisi felt vibrations in the air. With each passing sim, Sisi could feel their essence, the basis of all souls. It smelled like perfection, the scent of a well tended ambrosia. The scent began to gnaw at her soul, as it was forewarned by the Simcronomicon. Immortality waited for her.

Sisi caught sight of a man, a cute man with shaggy hair and a boyish mien. She stopped her reps and began arguing with herself again. She didn't know if she should introduce herself to the cute guy or to the giant boulder next to her home.

Sanity triumphed. Sisi walked down from her stoop and introduced herself to the

guy. And as the influence of the Simcronomicon had tainted her soul, she felt all of his essence, and the essence of lust swayed her. His name was Cayden Little, the first of the thirteen.

As stated by the Simcronomicon, Sisi was required to woo and flirt and tease

and woo-hoo with him although there was a footnote that states that being

boyfriends with them was enough. No matter. Sisi pressed on. Their talk led to titillating banter, and the flirtatious aura seeped through her like an engorged beehive that dripped of honey.

Days went by, and their bond strengthened. Sisi finally captured the essence of lust, and with it, Sisi caught something else that could lead to the second.

Sisi Aset's Story: Introduction

When she's not talking to herself, Sisi Aset dreamed of immortality. It was not because she feared death, rather it was the fear of growing gray, of breaking bones and of woohooing with the risk of embarrassing moments. During her lifetime, she was mistaken as the goddess Isis herself. And it was this complement that made Sisi believe that she was a goddess reincarnated into a mortal body.

This depressed her. Pillow cases were drenched in tears. The phone bill was expensive due to hours and hours spent on the Sadness Hotline. Her blog mostly consisted of sadness and injustice of this cruel world.

But she had come across the Simcronomicon. An ancient text filled with the occult, the demonic and a recipe for Ambrosia Mac & Cheese.

There were four easy steps. The first step was mastery of the written word. It was said that the bird was the word, which mean that the word ascends through ethereal planes.

So Sisi pushed on to become a writer. Years and years of hair pulling, publishing negotiations and crying over the phone, Sisi finally attained the first step in becoming an immortal. Although the easy part is over, the next part scared her.

Foreword from the Simcronomicon

Greetings, fellow deity. You have arrived at my blogspot either by link or through divine happenstance. Whichever method matters not.


This is a blog about two three rituals (challenges) for the Sims 4. Depending on what ritual you choose, the rewards are great and beyond the sim's universe. They're really cheats, but a purist would love an excuse to use them if given some challenge.

In the Thirteen Ghosts Challenge, your sim is tasked to capture thirteen souls via Book of Life. Once all thirteen are dead, your sim must summon all of them to complete the challenge.

In the Ten Dead Sims Challenge, your sim is tasked to imprison and execute other sims by unique means. Once all ten dead sims are imprisoned, the challenge is complete.

Read on fellow deity, and may your perverse meddling and toying be enjoyable.

- Jy-Mhan

Proceed to Page One: The Mortal