The Chronicles of Theon Pastajoy: The Ballad of the Ultimate Cringe

The night in Dreadfort was stifling, soaked with the smell of dampness and yesterday’s humiliation. Theon Pastajoy slept on a pile of moldy straw, curled into a ball. His swollen brow ridges—those very «bald hedgehogs»—were still pulsing with pain, and in his sleep, his broken mind decided to finally finish off the remnants of his personality. He dreamed of the Iron Islands. But not the rugged cliffs he remembered; instead, it was a quiet, abandoned grove wrapped in thick evening twilight. In the center of the grove stood an old, white Weirwood tree, whose face, carved into the bark, seemed to weep red sap. Theon sat with his back against its cold trunk. He felt infinitely old and worn out, as if his bones were made of brittle chalk. Suddenly, his gaze fell to the ground. There, among the rotting leaves, a small earthworm was writhing. Theon looked at it with a sad smirk. — And what are you doing here, little one? — He whispered, and his voice in the silence of the dream sounded like the rustle of dry grass. — Looking for lunch? I hope you have better luck than I do in finding peace. Strange. Usually, you creatures avoid people. Especially ones like me… — The worm, as if hearing him, purposefully crawled toward Theon and climbed onto his boot. Theon froze, watching the creature. — You’re quite persistent today. Well, fine, since you want it so much… — Theon carefully picked up the worm and placed it on his palm. The creature was cold and wet. — So small, yet living your own life.. — Theon said thoughtfully. — No one judges you, no one betrays you. You just crawl forward, doing your thing. No pasta, no masters… — Suddenly, Theon felt a sharp, burning pain in his palm. He cried out in surprise. The worm, in some impossible way, had bitten into his skin. — What the hell… — Theon gasped. The pain began to grow, turning into an unbearable throbbing. Theon tried to shake the creature off, but it clung to his flesh tightly. Before his eyes, the worm began to grow rapidly. Its body bloated, changing color from pink to coal-black, shiny like obsidian. — What is happening?! — Theon screamed, trying to tear the monster off with his other hand. The worm became huge, thick, and vile. It was no longer just an insect—it was a fat black snake from a nightmare. The monster coiled around Theon’s arm, squeezing the bones with such force that they began to crack. — Stop! Get off me! — Theon wailed, rolling on the ground of the grove. The worm ignored his pleas. Cold rings slid higher, coiling around Theon’s neck. The boa began to tighten. Theon opened his mouth, trying to breathe, but felt only the smell of rot and damp earth. — No… Not like this… — He wheezed. He tried to fight, but his strength faded. He felt the worm begin to penetrate inside his body—through his pores, through his mouth, through his eyes, literally devouring him from the inside and replacing his internal organs with itself. The red, shiny skin of the monster filled his entire field of vision. At the last moment, before the darkness swallowed him completely, Theon whispered a single word: — Re… demp… tion… — He fell to the ground breathless. The worm completely consumed his body, leaving only a void where Theon had been. The grove plunged into silence again, broken only by the rustle of leaves. — UUUH! — Theon jumped up on the straw, choking on his own scream. He was covered in sticky sweat, snot was running from his nose, and tears flooded his face, flowing over the swollen «bald hedgehogs.» He frantically felt himself, checking for that very worm. In the doorway of the kennel stood Ramsay, attracted by the scream. Next to him were Jaime Lannister and Tyrion, who were just heading for an early breakfast. — Oh, look at that, our Pastajoy is performing a solo again! — Ramsay exclaimed cheerfully. — What is it this time, Geyser? Did you dream of a giant pot again? — Theon, not thinking straight from horror, crawled to Ramsay’s feet, smearing snot on the floor. — Master! Master, it was a worm! It ate me! It was terrifying and shiny! I called it small, but it… it became my redemption! — Theon wailed, shaking all over. — It devoured me! I died! — Ramsay froze for a second, and then his face lit up with inhuman delight. He turned to the guests. — Did you hear that? Hear that? Our hero has nightmares about earthworms! — Jaime Lannister covered his eyes with his hand, feeling an hysterical laugh boiling inside him. Tyrion just took a sip from the goblet he always carried. — Pastajoy — Tyrion said. — I have seen many strange things, but you… you are the crown of creation. You dreamed a worm ate you, and now you’re sobbing about it to all of Westeros? LOOL! — Ramsay grabbed Theon by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into the courtyard, where the other guests had already gathered: Cersei, Daenerys, and Joffrey. — Listen, everyone! — Ramsay shouted. — Our Pastajoy has a new vision! The Great Giant Worm appeared to him! Pastajoy invited it for lunch, and the worm decided that lunch would be Pastajoy himself! And the last thing he said before «death» was the word «Redemption»! — The whole courtyard exploded with laughter. LMAO! Joffrey nearly choked on his pie. — Redemption by worm! — Joffrey wailed. — That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard! ROFL! Pastajoy, you’re so pathetic that even in your dreams you’re defeated by fish bait! — Cersei looked at the weeping Theon with disgust. — And this man once called himself a prince? Ramsay, your zoo is becoming increasingly tedious… — Daenerys Targaryen shook her head. — In Essos, they say that dreams are a reflection of the soul. Apparently, your soul, Theon, is indeed worth no more than worm food. — The shame was total. Theon sat in the mud, covered in snot and tears, while the laughter of all Westeros thundered over him. From then on, another title was added to his many—Wormy Redemption. Every morning, the guards now tossed worms into his bowl of pasta, asking: «Well, Pastajoy, will you eat it today, or will it eat you?» And Theon only sobbed quietly, realizing that even in his dreams he could find no peace, turning any nightmare into a reason for universal laughter. This was the ultimate cringe.