Asylum

Embracing the Dragon

Ren Walker

If I was anyone else, the scenery from the observation deck would've been breathtaking because of its beauty. However, I don't have to luxury of being anyone else. I am Ren Walker: destroyer of his own family. I knew coming back to Japan would cause some unpleasant memories and emotions to come rushing back to me, and that maybe my visions would escalate a bit more, but I wasn't expecting anything to this extent. I almost wish I was still running away from Asylum in that pitiful town we all stumbled into.

When I advanced up the white steps on the grassy hill, all I could remember was fleeing and stumbling down those stairs in a frenzy – running away from my crazed father or my vengeful brother. And I actually saw myself. It was if I was some spirit up above, looking down at the ghosts of my past. Vividly, I could see the terror on my blanched face; the clammy madness of my own father; the rancorous aggression of Xavier. I even heard the scenes; my sniffling and sobs, Father's slur of curses, Xavier's oaths to execute me and save humanity from me, Malakai's torn pleas being confused between helping me or his own father.

The feelings of those days blossomed in my chest again. My heart was hammering as I approached this home. My palms were sweaty. My legs were shaky, as if ascending the hill to see my shamed family. The dread I felt was something I've tried for years to never feel again. Yet, my psychosis has doubled its hold over me now that I'm at the scene where my life somehow managed to get increasingly worse. Now, I feel whatever pasts I see.

I braced myself for the influx of visions I knew I'd see and hear on the pavilion. Fighting with Father was how I gave him burns so bad he died. Strategically, I kept my head down, ushering across the deck and into the home. In the corner of my vision, I saw our flashing katanas and heard their clanking metal. The halls of the dojo were immersed with echoes of Xavier's cries when Father passed, his screams when he held me accountable, my prayers of forgiveness. Multiple versions of the younger me dashed down the halls, passing right through my body. Right on my tail: Xavier, who seemed to foam at the mouth.

I didn't go my old bedroom – or, Xavier's room that he shared with me since Father never designated me a room. I knew what I'd see if I went into that wretched cell: the night I melted Xavier's eye right out of his socket, the hot mess of juices trickling down my arm before I knew what was happening.

Even now, perched up high in a place I never visited in my younger days, I shudder. The sounds of my worst memories replaying over and over in my head to the point where I almost wonder if I should just jump from here. To make matters worse, Xavier joins me in the form I've seen him for the past few years, now: the one-eyed, charming brother who follows me everywhere. His eyepatch is covered by that peculiar shade of navy hair. "What a night, huh, Ren? I knew you'd come back," he taunts, leaning on the deck's railings and watching me.

"Makes one of us," I sigh.

Xavier frowns. He steps closer to me, and the sounds in the background magnify tenfold. Slinging an arm around my shoulders only launches the shadows into a frenzy. My brain is about to explode from all the noise, but I'm the master of explosions, so I think I'll manage. "You know," Xavier starts, cocking his head to the side. "I am part of your subconscious. If I knew you were going to come back here sometime, then so did you. The bigger part of you just didn't want to acknowledge it."

I stare him in his golden eye. "I wonder why."

Chuckling, Xavier steps away and hops on the railing, sitting on the edge because he knows he can't die as a vision. If he's really a part of my own mind, then maybe I could make him jump and leave me alone forever. But my brother and I both know that, even in my imagination, I'd never slaughter him. "Always the smooth-talker, Ren. Speaking of, how's that going?"