Intoxicate [❌]

6 - Contemplation

[???]

The still wet ink on the paper smudged slightly when the edge of my hand brushed it. I wiped it off, the metallic scent of the liquid still clinging to my skin. I clicked the end of the pen, retracting the point, and set it aside in a cylindrical tin can with a few other writing utensils. I looked back at the paper, picking it up and reading it top to bottom. Information about someone, the one my target has been telling me about. I would just take them and get my payment, no questions asked, but something about this new friend of theirs is a bit suspicious. If they're like them, they could be a danger to me, and to the organization. Or maybe there could be a way I could harness this... creature, for lack of a better word, for myself.

I picked up the knife on the table in front of me, spinning the blade with my fingers as I read through the writing. Once my gaze reached the bottom of the page, I set it aside, and looked back at another paper below it. A bio of the original target. It even showed their real name, which I found pointless, seeing that they never used it. Honestly better than the name they've adopted for themselves, though. This paper, unlike the other one, was neatly typed out, giving me information about the target. Everything I needed to know to make up a time and place to take them down. I've had it for months now, had it sitting on my desk under the infinite mess of other papers.

But something's keeping me from killing them now. Not liking, I certainly don't like them much.

Soon, I thought to myself, Soon they will die. And no one will be able to stop me from achieving my goal.

-x-

[Tonix]

I wanted to curl up in bed and cry.

But I couldn't. Then I would be in pain, and as much as I wished for death, I didn't want that pain.

Could it be worth it, though? Could I let it come, let myself pay for the things I've done through the pain that comes? I wanted to rest, wanted to leave and never look back. Yet chains kept me bound to this earth, bound to this world of suffering and agony, watching everyone I've ever known die by my hands.

I looked at them now, my bloody claws still unsheathed, shaking and trembling with... with what? Fear? Nervousness? Simply from the chills that seemed to wrack my spine? The clawing feeling in my stomach, the one that truly told me that it all was hopeless?

I felt dizzy. I leaned against the wall, shaking my head to steady myself. Cold and heat seemed to pulse through me all at the same time, the frigid fever weighing me down like being buried alive.

And still those voices, these thoughts that are barely mine, they still ricochet in my mind, hammering in my head and trying to burst out. Rabid creatures tearing at my mind, spreading their disease and ravaging anything that was left of my past self.

Telling me to kill. To "live up to my potential" and slaughter everyone in my path. Like the mindless beast I was.

The voices were the reason I was even still alive. They held me back, imprisoned me here. Forever held me from moving on.

I didn't realize I was crying. Hot tears spilled down my face, and I slid my back down the wall, burying my head in my arms and barely wincing as the still fresh wounds stung.

-x-

[Anatox]

I decided to leave Tonix alone for a while. I mean, what would I say? "I understand?" Of course not. He'd see right through my lies. He was obviously suffering somehow worse than I was.

There's nothing else to do here, and Tonix most likely needs some space. So I decided to go out for a walk, and pay a visit to someone.

On the rhythmic thrumming of my feet hitting the ground I focused as I pulled on my hood and mask and quickened my pace to a slow jog. No one paid me any attention, to them I was just some kid out for a run.