The Pacifist and The Destroyer (malexmale)

3. Lane

My hand shakes as I brace against the wall after finally forcing the door closed. That was too much. Way, way too much. I pushed myself too far. I know better than that. I know how risky it is. I know my limits, but still...still I pushed past them. I pushed past because it's Zuuro and being around Zuuro makes me stupid. I just didn't remember how stupid until now.

Breathe...just breathe... I tell myself, knotting my free hand over my stomach and trying to quell the sudden nausea churning there. It's fine...just calm down...nothing happened...he's gone now...he's safe...it's fine.

But...it's not fine, is it? I did exactly what I told myself I wasn't going to do. I let Zuuro stay too long. I let him touch me. I touched him! I can't do that. I can't give in like that. I know better. I know what could have happened if he'd stayed even a minute longer, and still -!

I grit my teeth. No...no, it had to be that way. It was better that way. Zuuro needed that. He needed a proper explanation, or he never would have understood why he has to stay away. He would have kept coming back. He would have kept putting himself in danger!

I can't have that. I can't.

"But you could...all you have to do is let go."

I tense at the sound of the all too familiar voice in my head. That strange disembodied thing that likes to whisper horrors in my ear, always trying to tempt me to do what I know I shouldn't. Push past my limits. Use my power. Let it free.

I move my trembling hands to my hair; gripping my head. I need control. I have to regain control. Breathe...just breathe...

"We come back here and suddenly you think you can just ignore me?" It purrs.

I shake my head, trying to push it away. Trying to pretend it's not real and I don't hear it. But that's a lie. I know it's real. I know it's there. It's the thing inside me. The thing my dad put inside me. The Karr weapon.

I've been hearing it ever since the night of the party. Vaguely, I can remember hearing it once before too. When I was young...really young. Back before I knew anything about weapons, or experiments, or what had been done to me. Back when I was still in space.

I remember telling my dad about it. He called it an imaginary friend; something my mind had created to keep me company on our lonely ship. He didn't know what it truly was – that's obvious now – but even then, I can remember thinking that explanation sounded...wrong.

Because when it spoke, it didn't seem much like a friend. It told me to do things. Bad things. Mean things. Things I knew weren't right, and thankfully, knew better than to follow. But then we came here, and it went away – obviously from the drugs my dad was giving me to block my powers – and I never heard it again after that.

The years went by and I forgot about it. It was nothing. Just a child's imagination. And then the night of the party – when I awoke in that strange dream space – I heard it again. It spoke to me like it did when I was a child. Told me all the horrible things I'd done. And it hasn't shut up since.

Only, now I know it's not innocent. Not the imaginary creation of a lonely child's mind meant to keep him company. No, it's bad. It's real. It's a horrifying monster, and I have to do everything in my power to keep it contained. To keep the horrors, it whispers in my ear from coming to fruition.

I walk back into the bathroom, gripping the counter as I look at myself in the mirror. At the strange grinning thing staring back at me. It looks like me. It has all the same scars and bruises littering its face, but...but its eyes are wrong. Its eyes are black. Pitch black. Soulless. Empty. Endless.