Angel: You have a sister?
(His question hangs in the air. Dusk's invasion of our apartment has me lost. She looked like my mother. Like me. She had invaded our space. Our bed. I'd accused Angel of...I don't know what. I was lashing out at him. He called me on it. He was right. I dropped it immediately. They weren't my true feelings. Just my anger[confusion] over the situation. Over the violation. I can't look at him right now. Instead I watch the floor as I feel my body move on its own. Pacing the floor. It barely registers that I'm naked. That I'd jumped out of the shower to confront the woman[creature] that claimed to be my sister. She's gone now and I have no answer. No answer to the question that hangs over us both.)
Eclipse: I don't know.
(Is it really possible that she is who she claims? She looked to be around 17 or 18. How could she exist with me having no knowledge of it?
Eclipse: I didn't...think so. I've never seen her before. Never heard the name.
(A part of me wants to just accept that she is. All the similarities between us. The way she looks[feels]. It would make sense. I can't though. I can't take this at face value. I can't blindly believe[trust] in what she says.)
Angel: The resmeblence...
(I hear the first part of what he says, but I'm not physically present. My thoughts override his voice. It barely registers to me that I speak some of these thoughts aloud.)
Eclipse: My parents never mentioned...
(...anything about me having a sister. Would they keep that from me? [Yes]. I don't know. What reason would they have to do so? Angel speaks again, but all I hear in his words is my father's name. If she is my sister, how could she have stayed concealed for so long? It feels impossible.)
Eclipse: It can't be. Unless...
(Angel continues talking, but I can't understand any of his words. I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts it's like he's in another room. In another conversation. On a muted screen. I delve further into my own thoughts[truths]. Speaking to myself, because I'm not in control of my body as of yet. I've been overtaken by the possibilities of Dusk's identity. There's only one way she could be my sister without me knowing about it.)
Eclipse: Did my mother trade her as an unborn child to that thing in the darkness dimension? Did she cast her aside to regain her wretched life again?
(The same way she did me? Was she pregnant a second time? The thought bothers me more than I'd like. To think I may have a sister who had to endure the same things I did growing up in that horrible[wonderful] place. Do my mother's sins stretch farther than even I had thought? I can't bear this train of thought right now. It's too painful. All that matters is that it is a possibility. One I can't easily dismiss. When it comes to the subject of my mother, and the horrors[greatness] she is capable of...nothing is off the table. Upon determining this I snap out of my thoughts. The world around me becomes real again. I feel my love's presence in the room once more.)
Eclipse: I don't know that she's my sister. It's possible.
(I don't pause. He needs to know. One of my secrets, the things I don't even share with him, has impacted[tainted] his life now as well.)
Eclipse: But I do know that she's been hunting my team. Hunting me.
(Well, what was my team before I[Fallon] ruined everything.)
Eclipse: I knew she would find me here. It was inevitable.
(There was no chance she wouldn't come. I should have warned him. Told him that there was always danger in just being near me. That my enemy count had vastly grown since back before he disappeared from the world. I should have, but I didn't[didn't want to]. I feel guilt. [You shouldn't]. Guilt for endangering him without informing him.)
(I stop my apology before it starts. I don't do well with this kind of thing[weakness]. It's completely against my nature. Always has been. [Stop]. I have to. I force the words through my teeth. My voice trembling slightly as I do. [Pathetic].)
Eclipse: ...I'm...sorry...that I brought her to you.
(That was painful. Something in me recoils at the gesture. I don't care. It had to be done. If I want this to work, I had to. The room seems to go completely silent. He says nothing. I don't want to look at him. See his reaction. I'm embarrassed and I hate it. Am I so weak? [Yes]. I couldn't stop what may be my sister. [Failure]. Now I'm apologizing. Even worse, I'm worried[frightened] about his reaction. I'm not just embarrased. I'm angry. I feel exposed. I'm afraid. Conflicted. [Pathetic little whelp]. I can't look, but I must. Slowly my eyes move up to him. Just as they near his face he reaches out to me. That small gesture fills me with relief. I immediately go to him. Cling to him. Feel his arms wrap around me and hug me close. His lips gently kiss my forehead. My fears are swept away. My anger remains. Our life was invaded. Sister or not, I want vengeance. He holds me for awhile before kissing my forehead again. Such a simple thing. A small gesture that makes me feel so greatly loved.)
Angel: We need to talk.
(That's undeniable. His tone suggests there's more to his point than just what I didn't tell him. We break from our embrace. He sits down. I can't. I bury my anger for the moment. There are more pressing[trivial] matters.)
Eclipse: Yes we do....When I get back.
(His eyebrows raise up slightly. His expression both questioning and unthrilled. His tone matches the expression.)
Angel: From where exactly?
(I'm aware my timing isn't the best on this, but I'm not ready. Not yet. I look directly into his eyes. I don't want him to think I'm avoiding this. [You are].)
Eclipse: I..I need to clear my head first. I'm just walking over to the store.
(First though, I need to get dressed. I feel exposed enough with the revelation of one of my secrets. I grab some clothing from my suitcase and begin putting them on. First, a matching set of blue and black panties and bra.)
Eclipse: I need cigarettes and we need food. Anything you want me to get?
(I put on dark gray pants and a black, buttoned top designed similar to a vest. His expression relaxes some. We need to hole up and figure some things out. In order to do that we need supplies. He understands this as well.)
Angel: We're out of beer.
(I lean down and kiss him softly before grabbing the blade I keep under my pillow. I slide it into the back of my pants. I toss my coat on and head towards the door.)
Eclipse: Be back shortly.
(I open it, and step out of the comfort of our apartment into the world I'm not a part of. The air immediately feels different before I even get the door shut behind me. I manage three steps past the neighbor's door before I hear it open. I feel his eyes on me. They dissect me. I can feel his judgement[hatred]. He wishes I had never come to this world. That I would leave[die]. I'm aware of these things without even looking back. Then it stops. The door shuts again. I exit the crumbling building. The night air feeling cool on my face. I stop and stretch my awareness out to get a feel for what might be waiting for me. No trace of Dusk. No trace of anyone. The streets are empty. Quiet. I find it to be less than soothing. This place is nothing like Anchorage. The walk to the corner store is uneventful. It's almost a shame. A confrontation might improve my mood. Instead, I find my agitation increasing as I step into the bland store.
Like the rest of the area, this building is decaying inside and out. The clerk matches it well with his stained shirt and unpleasant features. He stares at me emptily. [Always]. Every time I come here, I find my urge to hurt him builds further. I glare at him till he looks away. I can feel the perversion on him. It's not the only emotion in the air. [There's fear in this building]. I can smell it. I turn my head to the right and see the source. A young man stands at the end of the aisle. His eyes shift between me and the clerk. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. I can sense his desperation as plainly as I can see the way his hand is stuck in his pocket. He's working on growing a spine. He looks back down at whatever item he's pretending to shop for. I grab a basket and head over to the cooler. I toss a bunch of pre-packaged burgers and sandwiches in. To Angel, they're the second best thing to fast food. To me, anything is better than what I grew up on. I grab a case of beer and look over at the twitchy young man. His confidence is slowly building as he looks at magazines. I head up to the register and toss the basket and beer on the counter.)
Clerk: That everything for ya?
(The sound of his voice is grating. His breath is putrid. Even his nose ring taunts me. His eyes move down to my chest for a moment before coming back to my face. I want to hurt[kill] him. I won't though. Not right now.)
Eclipse: Two cartons...
Clerk: What kind?
(I grip the counter with my right hand and squeeze as hard as I can. Distract myself from my displeasure at interacting with this piece of garbage wrapped in human skin. I lean forward.)
Eclipse: Same as always.
(He hesitates and takes a step back from me. His eyes blink. Then he turns and picks up two cartons of Camel Menthol Silvers and rings them up with everything else. He knew what I wanted. He was trying to prolong the conversation. Either he knows the desperate one behind me is about to rob him...or he just wanted to leer at me longer. I'm guessing the latter. I don't think he's aware at all. I also don't care. I ignore his protest as I reach over the counter and grab a bag. I bag my stuff and turn to walk out. Not before I smile at the other "customer". As I walk out, I call back to the clerk.)
Eclipse: Good luck...
(When I returned there was no neighbor to watch[judge] me. His door was a mess. Someone had busted it in. Was it just the neighborhood? Or was it Angel? Doesn't matter. I tossed the food in the mini-fridge and had a cigarette. Now, it's time for us to talk. The "talk" starts out with silence. As to be expected with us. Not our biggest strength. Never will be. I pace back and forth with my knife while he sits on the bed. Finally, I reluctantly decide to break the silence. My voice is quiet as I force the words out against their[my] will. )
Eclipse: There are things I need to tell you. That I should have told you already.
(He watches me silently, waiting for me to speak. I get a sense he's surprised[relieved] that I want to speak first. I could be wrong. I don't really want to say anything. Do I ever? I just have no choice. Not really. Twice in two days enemies have breached the sanctity of the life we've been building together. First, it was one of his. They delivered the syringes I dare not bring up. Not if I want to avoid us coming to blows. I'm going to have to wait for him to tell me. He doesn't need to know I'm aware of the existence of that box. Then, it was one of mine. Dusk. The woman who ruined my team's last op. The woman who took out Ember. The woman who claims to be my younger sister. The catalyst for the abandonment by my team. At least, that's what I assume. Had she not appeared...no, it still would have happened. It was only a matter of time.
It's all only a matter of time. Angel and I will never have a shortage of enemies[violence]. They will always come. Did we really think that if we just holed up in an apartment together that the rest of the world would stop existing? I don't know, maybe we did. I'll admit that it was foolish and lacked practicality. It was just difficult to remember the rest of the world existed when we could sit here and obsess over each other. Yeah we are in love[hate], but not to admit it to ourselves as being an obsession with each other would be to diminish the things we feel. We've both always felt it. Neither of us admit it aloud. To bring it up might be some admission of weakness. [It is]. This represents a self awareness I am not always capable of. We ignored the world and it resented[hated] us for it. One of its more charming traits. It felt compelled to remind us it was there. Crashed down upon us.
Now, it is clear that it has no intention of relenting. My enemies. His enemies. A shared threat. They are now our enemies. The life we tried to build was just a vacation. An escapist dream. One we couldn't sustain. Not in the form we had hoped. It was childish of us to expect our relationship to not revolve around violence. It always has. Always will. So be it. Our fairy tale has turned to ash around us. I can live with that. Peace for us would have been a lie anyway. Was it nice while it lasted? Very. It was the happiest I'd ever been. Like a wonderful dream. A dream that has now been stolen[killed]. A dream I will avenge. Now that it has ended, what becomes of us? The decision for me is instant. Angel is a part of me. I won't be torn from him by a world that hates us. I'm not going anywhere. In order to make this work he needs to be aware of what we are facing. Doesn't make this any easier.)
Eclipse: Dusk could only be the beginning of it. I've probably made more enemies than I'm aware of with the team I formed.
(I stop a moment. His focus is completely on me, but he doesn't react. He's allowing me to tell things at my own pace. I'm appreciative. It is not comfortable for me to detail events of my life to others. Even him.)
Eclipse: I put them together to solve problems in this world. At the time, I felt it was what was needed. I think it was just what I needed at the time. We took down a lot of people. People who were ruining lives in the world. People who were claiming victims. We should have killed them, but we didn't. Fallon was against it. No matter how much Ruen and I felt it was needed. So, we maimed them and left their little worlds destroyed in our wake.
(I pace as I talk to him. Still too much pent up energy from my fight with Dusk. From the thoughts of all our enemies closing in. Not to mention, my discomfort at talking so much. Angel listens silently. He doesn't seem surprised so far.)
Eclipse: On our last op we encountered Dusk. We planned to take down a group who were testing a new street drug they'd created on victims they had kidnapped. The plan was to take them down and free the test subjects. When we arrived she had already killed all of our targets and their captives. She'd destroyed everything and left me a note. She separated some of my people from the rest of the group and dismantled them with ease. One of them was injured.
(I avoid mentioning Ember directly. I'm exposing myself enough. I hate[HATE] this. I pause to take a breath. Not from talking, but because I'm dreading going into the next part. I'm so thankful he isn't asking me anything. I have no desire to go into more detail than I have.)
Eclipse: This was right before I moved in with you. When you were out the other day, Fallon called me to tell me it was over. They left me.
(My life before moving in with Angel is gone. Whether I want to admit it or not, I'm bitter[angry] about it. I avoid looking at Angel for a moment while I gather myself. Vulnerability is not my strong suit. I wait for him to say something as I fight off my self-consciousness, but no words come. We envelop ourselves in silence. My mind shifts from the team[Dusk]. It moves to the fact he's hiding things from me. Things he may shed light on. Things he doesn't want to talk about. Whatever it is, it must be painful. He should be sharing that pain.)
Eclipse: You wanted to talk, Angel...So talk.
silence remains. I study his face. See
the anger and hurt behind his eyes. The invasions against our life
together have him craving revenge as well. That is clear. I wait for
him to speak. Eventually he does.)
(From before we were together. From the time of his absence from my existence. He patiently listened while I told my story to him. Unfortunately, I cannot do the same. He is more patient and understanding than I am. I will avoid prying too much, but I have to ask some things now that he's told me this. My fingers involuntarily grip the handle of my knife tighter.)
Eclipse: Who are they?
(His grim expression contorts ever so slightly. Minute shifts in his eyebrows, and mouth, scream his discomfort at me.)
Angel: I don't know.
(He shakes his head. It brings me no comfort that he is unaware of their identity.)
Angel: It doesn't matter. What's important is that they've found me. They've been here, already.
(I had assumed as much, but I will still get confirmation.)
Eclipse: The knock at the door...
(The space between us fills with silence once more. This does not please me. There are things he's not telling me. Things I can't ask about. It was the same for him during mine. I'm sure he was aware I left out details. Our secrets mock us. Prevent us from being clear with each other. They could eventually bring us harm. Unfortunately, that changes nothing. We still keep them. I'm guessing we both have[want] to. I avoid the topic of the syringes. Better to stick to our enemies. Our vengeance.)
Eclipse: What do they want?
(I would rather we go on the offensive if at all possible. His response is slow, but heavy.)
(One tiny word causes my entire system to churn. Rage begins to flood my veins. No one hunts him. [Except you]. I[I] will crush[MURDER] them! [People must die].)
Eclipse: Let them come.
(Let them try to take what's mine. Let them fall[die] at my hands[feet].)
Angel: No. No, Eclipse. I've got to do this alone. For my own sake. And yours.
(That will never happen. This is not his choice. [It's yours].)
Eclipse: Your victims are mine. I've told you that. I thought it was agreed upon.
(They are. It was. His anxiety increases. He doesn't like where this conversation is going.)
Angel: Not these ones.
(Part of his mind is somewhere else. Somewhere terrible.)
Angel: They've watched me for too long. They've stolen my life Eclipse-the things I've seen, and the things I've done-and the things they've done to me-the things they've done, my god-
(He stops himself, but it is far too late. The pain in his words strike a cord deep within me. They become my pain. Fuel my rage further. His eyes haunt me. My insides burn. [Yes, let it burn]. It begins to spread through my veins, making them feel as if they are filled with acid.)
Angel: No. These victims are my own. I won't let them take you, too.
(Not only is he breaking our shared promise, but he's doing so for people that have wounded him so deeply. I will never allow him to face this alone. Something that has affected him to such a degree cannot be allowed to exist[live]. No matter what he says [they are yours]. I will [make them suffer]. His voice attempts to derail my thoughts. [It won't work].)
Angel: But you can help.
(I will do more than that. I respond quickly. It sounds more like a demand. It is. I want to know how. [You know how].)
Eclipse: Tell me.
Angel: This team of yours-are you still on speaking terms? Would they help you, if you asked?
(Them again. Half of them I can't approach at all. I am sure of that. I fight to push down some of my rage. [Why]? It isn't useful at the moment. [Stop]. It takes a moment, but I diminish it some.)
Eclipse: I don't know. Some of them might. And what would you ask of them, love?
(What could he possibly want from them? Would he prefer Fallon to me as well? [Like they did]. Rather have her help him with his enemies? [The bitch]. I need to calm down. That's not what is happening here.)
Angel: If I'm going to do this, I need information. And I need answers.
(Don't we both....)
(She sits in a chair near the middle of the room. Heavily bandaged arms lay firmly on the arm rests. Red hair sticks out from the top of the white bandages that cover her entire face, except for her red eyes. There is no injury to this face. At least, not physically. With no identity to call her own, she avoids her face being seen at all. Especially by her self. The face that belongs to the weapon Eclipse once forged. The woman once known as Ember now clings to the silence that hangs thickly around her. A voluntary silence she has undertaken. The last words spoken by her were to reveal the truth of her origin to Fallon. Now, even her own voice would bring her pain. It wouldn't be her voice. It would be a mixture of two people who no longer exist. Robin Sparks and Ember. She is neither.
She is nothing. A remnant. A jumble of destroyed identities. A being filled only with confusion and pain. Emptiness. Her eyes stare vacantly forward from behind the bandaging as they search for who she is. Who she could be. They find neither. The past is all they are capable of seeing. The horrors inflicted. The pieces broken. The humanity lost. The weight of her sorrow holds her in place. Keeps her frozen as time moves on around her. The jagged pieces within have nothing to bind them together. So, they shift. Slice. Tear at shattered insides. Rip at her core. A raw, pulsating mass left in their wake.
A knock sounds at her door. It takes a moment for it to register to her. As if the world outside of this room has become a foreign concept. An intrusive dream without permanence. There is no movement from her. No answer. Another knock. Followed by a voice. A voice her consciousness recognizes amidst the screams that fill it.)
(There is no movement from her eyes. No recognition. There is no Ember. The door slowly opens. Light instantly floods in. Fallon's kind face follows the light. Sadness etched into her bright green eyes. Slowly she steps into the room. Her hand carrying her first aid kit.
(She finds no response. No sign that the bandaged woman is aware of her presence at all. Fallon pushes to keep a smile on her face, sad as it may be. Her voice is caring. Soft. Worried.
Fallon: Let's get these bandages changed.
(I approach the store. No police tape. Everything looks as it did the other night. Guess my potential, armed robber didn't go through with it. That's a shame. I enter through the doors. The morning clerk bothers me less. She avoids looking at me as much as possible. Always does. I'm fine with that. If only the other customers did. I ignore their stares[animosity]. Their hatred, fear, and judgement. I grab a pre-paid cellphone off the rack on the counter and toss it in front of the clerk. Have to replace the phone I destroyed if Angel wants me to try and contact someone from the team on his behalf. [Why bother]? The clerk doesn't look at or talk to me. She rings it up and bags it. I pull it from the bag and rip open the packaging. I collect my phone from it and leave the garbage on the counter. I place it in my pocket and walk out. I just want to get back to the apartment. Get away from the daylight people.
I make my way back. Avoid any form of interaction. Stare down anyone who dares look at me. [Establish dominance]. Keep them at bay. I'm not thrilled at the prospect of calling any of my former[traitorous] teammates. I'm unsure as to which of them I should even call. They'd have to be both receptive to helping me, and useful. That eliminates pretty much everyone except Ruen and Vivian. Vivian would be the best one for information. Hopefully, she'll take the call. Luckily, I have time before I have to make this call. Angel still doesn't know who is after him. He also didn't give me information to go on. So, I'll wait for him to tell me what we're looking for.
I still can't believe he honestly thinks I'm staying out of this one. He should know better. Know me better. When the time comes, I will strike on his behalf. He can get over being mad after. This is out of his hands despite his desires. No one hurts him without paying[dying]. I walk through the communal door to our building and freeze in my tracks. There's something in front of our door. Have his pursuers been here again? With great trepidation, I slowly walk towards it. Yet again, the neighbor doesn't come to his door and look out. As I get closer, I see it is a big basket full of fruit. A card sticking out of the top. Why would they leave this at our door? Is there something hidden inside? Is it a message? Is Angel okay? I stop in front of it. Stare down at it. I look around the hallway before kneeling down next to it. I can only hope there isn't an explosive device or something in here. I reach out and lightly grip the envelope with the card in it. There's nothing connected to it. I pull it away from the basket and take a breath. Then I open it and pull out the card. The front of the card contains two kittens. What kind of message is this? Is this from them? My sister? I open it and find out.
I find myself relieved[annoyed]. This isn't a trap from our enemies...well at least not the ones I'm concerned about. Still, I don't trust it. For all I know this fruit is poisoned. That man next door hates me. Now he taunts me. Wants me to let down my guard. [Don't]. I won't. I've seen the judgement in his eyes. Felt his hatred of my existence. I should harm him. [Do it]. Not right now. This is his last chance. Next time, though, I will. I toss the card back in the basket before kicking it down the hall. Fruit flies everywhere. An orange rolls all the way to the end of the hallway. I unlock the door and go inside. I'm quick to shut the door behind me. Close out the world. Angel steps out of the bathroom.)
Angel: Hey babe.
(I don't respond. My mind stuck on the evil fruitbasket of taunting. I toss my jacket down.)
Angel: Or not.
(I look over to him.)
Eclipse: That neighbor. He's plotting against me. Leaving things at our door. Poisoned fruit...
(A small laugh escapes Angel's lips. My eyes narrow at him.)
Angel: He's just an old man. Pretty sure you could take him. Don't worry about it.
(Not the point at all. I start to say something, but Angel walks up to me.)
Angel: Forget about it.
(He embraces me. Kisses my forehead in the way he always does. Fine. I'll let it go [for now].)
(I stare at the sun-faded sign in front of me. Briar Ridge Psychiatric Hospital. What is he doing here? When Angel had left the house he said he was going for a walk. This is some "walk". Of course I followed[own] him. I didn't buy his excuse for leaving. Couldn't. Not with the minute things I saw in his expression. The subtle look to the side as he said it. I knew he was hiding something. I usually do. I followed him. Watched from the shadows I am wrapped in. This has something to do with the people who stalk him. Lucky for him, I'm better at it than them. He breaks in, in a manner that lets me know he's been here before. It's too familiar. I feel an ache in my chest. Was he locked up here while away from me? My first instinct is to cleanse[burn] this place. I wait for a moment, so that he can achieve a little distance from me. Then, I go in the same way he did.
The air inside is stale. Stuffy. I shudder. This is the kind of place that once experimented on my father. Helped make him the monster he is. Evil doctors and their "scientific" games. I hate doctors. I hate being in here. Angel strides through. He knows exactly where he's going. This does not please me. He seems enthralled with this place. I'm careful not to get too close still. I do not want him to know I followed him. Saw one of his secrets. The further in we go, the more constrictive the air itself feels. Find whatever you're looking for Angel. Quckly[NOW]. I need out of this building. He stops in a larger room. Stares at a rocking chair for a brief moment. It's almost as if he has to force himself to stop looking at it. He was a captive here. I have no doubts now. Now, I fully hate this building.
I watch his trip through his memory continue as he looks at the rooms he passes. Except one. He purposely avoids looking at it. As if it might try to grab hold of him and pull him in. The anguish he must have endured here infiltrates my heart. Erodes its defenses. Infects it with pain[vulnerabilty]. Finally, he stops at the last door on the right. Slowly his hand reaches out to grab the handle. This is what he's here for. His hesitant movement tells me that. Then he steps through it. Silently, I creep to the door. Then I hear Angel's voice. Upset. His vocal tones cause me to be as well. So filled with heartbreak.)
Angel: Prof...My god, Prof-what did they do? What did they do to you?
Before I can hear anymore, the door shuts behind him. I reach it. Though I'm worried he could come out and discover me here, I have to try and hear what is happening in there. I press my ear to the door. It's too thick. I hear talking, but can't make any of it out. One voice is so quiet I can barely hear it at all. That one's not Angel[mine]. I'm not going to learn anything this way. I have no choice but to retreat from the door and hide down the hall. He cares about whoever Prof is. A lot. Not many people have earned that with him. His pain at seeing this person made him openly emotional. Having heard that makes waiting more difficult. I remain still even though my insides are filled with constant movement.
It's a little while before I hear the door again. Now, I face a dilemma. Do I stop following Angel? Leave him vulnerable while I go talk to whoever Prof is? Or do I follow Angel? If I don't follow, he could go somewhere other than home. I wouldn't find him. On top of that, I have to beat him home so that he isn't suspicous of where I've been. I have no time to make this decision, but I make one. I can only hope it's the right one.)
(I lay awake as Angel sleeps next to me. It's apparently my turn to watch over us. It's now clear to me that we sleep in shifts without trying. A natural part of our relationship[paranoia]. No one has come for us yet. This does little to soothe me. They want us to grow tired from hypervigilance. Begin to relax[weaken]. Let our guard down. Become vulnerable. That might work if we were alone, but we're not. When the times comes, we'll be happily waiting. Right now, the possible future isn't what has my attention. It's the past. Angel's past. The one I obviously know very little about. That became extremely clear to me the night I followed him. Originally, I hadn't worried[cared] about where he'd been. All that mattered was he was with me after he returned. Maybe that was naive[stupid] of me. How truly fairytale. That little fantasy has been proven wrong. The past matters. We are all beholden to it. No exceptions.
Which means the true nightmare is yet to come. My past is surging toward us. Desiring to burn down everything we've built together. You can only prolong the inevitable. Never escape it. When it does catch up to us will he still look at me the same? Will my sins bury us? I don't know. The thought that we could crumble beneath the weight of the things I've done is frightening[exciting]. I can feel pain in my heart just from the possibility. I don't only fear what could happen between us. I fear what it would do to me. [Don't]. I could lose all control. [Exactly]. I shudder at the thought. [It's what you want]. I can only hope that when the time comes that his understanding holds out.
I listen to his quiet breathing. So soft. So peaceful[vulnerable]. This is the only time he appears truly at ease. Without pain. Others may not see it, but it's always there. Beneath the surface. Inflicting harm. Forcing him to be what he is. The life he's led is not the one he would have chosen for himself. It's just all he's known. I wonder if I'm really talking about him anymore, or just myself. People don't choose what they are. They just are. It's one of the few things I have in common with other people. If I even count as people. The choice isn't in what we are, but in how we deal with it. Do we just go with it or do we fight against it? Me, I fight it. Always. [Why]? I just don't know if it makes a difference. I'd like to think it does. I have to think it does. Because if it doesn't, my past won't be my last nightmare to surface.
The terrible[wonderful] thoughts of what exists within me only bring me to thoughts of Dusk. I've fought it, but I believe she is my sister. Have I called my parents in an attempt to confirm this? No. I can just picture how fun that conversation would be with my mother, "Hey, did you by any chance trade a second unborn child to an evil, supernatural intelligence in the darkness dimension to save your non-existent soul"? No thanks. Talking to that woman is already unpleasant enough. Everything I say in her presence could lead to my murder at her hands. Yet, I've done nothing but desire her approval. What a sick[pitiful] situation. I don't think I'll be doing that. I don't think Angel wants me to either. I don't think he's ready to meet my father, much less my mother. I have no idea how receptive either would be to my lover. Or what they might do. I've never encountered this situation before. So they're out. We will deal with the Dusk situation without their aid.
I think I have to accept that she is my sibling. It seems unreasonable not to. It doesn't change the fact that I have[want] to hurt her. She violated my space. My bed. My Angel. For that she must pay. That is absolute. So, why is that not the true focus of my thoughts of her? What I spend the most time wondering is if she is like me inside? Is there any conflict within her? I find it difficult to think there might be. She appears to be completely pyschotic[perfect]. Is she? Is this just a twisted game...or something more? My interaction with her has been too limited to know any of these things. I just know what I felt off of her. She was filled with such a wicked delight. Seemed so pleased with what she was doing. Weirdly, I didn't feel like she was looking at her enemy when she smiled at me. More like I was her hobby. I'm not sure how to explain it even in my own head. I haven't been around her enough to really wrap my head around who and what she is. If I don't end up killing her [big "if"].....I hope I get the chance to talk to her. With all these thoughts, I can't help but wonder where she is right now.)
Dusk: Did you sleep well my little rebel?
(Her words are mockingly tender. The room is in shambles. The building condemned. The only furnture in it is a ratty bed. A cardboard box serves as a nightstand. A black mask, resembling a scarecrow, rests on it. Dusk lays on the bed. Nude beneath a thin blanket. A soft smile on her face. A wicked gleam in her eyes. Under the blanket with her, is the man she speaks to. His face pale. Gaunt. His eyes open to find his nightmare waiting for him. Dark red rings line them from tears past. A dim panic permanently fills them. She slides closer to his unclothed form. Cuddling up to him. He tries to move away, but is still tied up to the bed post. His arms stretched above him uncomfortably. His feet tied to the end of the bed. There is no getting away. This terror won't end. He is hers.)
Dusk: Oh, I'm so sorry honey. I didn't mean to startle you. Did you miss me while you slept?
(He can only make sounds beneath the tape that covers his mouth. She leans over and looks into his eyes. The madness behind her own swallows him.)
Dusk: Shhh. No need to speak. You just relax. Enjoy our time together. In this little world we've made as a couple.
(Her head moves in so that she can press her lips against the tape lovingly. Tears run down from his eyes. Muffled, heavy breaths are trapped behind the tape. It forces them out his nose. She ends her kiss and looks upon his face. Her hand trailing his cheek softly.)
Dusk: Aw, there's no need to cry. I know you're happy. You've loved me since I stopped you from robbing that store.
(He hadn't wanted to rob that store, but he needed the money. It was the only way his sister was going to a keep a roof over the head of his nieces. What would happen to them now? He had waited around, pretending to shop for twenty minutes. Right when he was about to make his move, a woman came in. A scarred freak of a woman. She frightened him. She caused him to hold off his plan. He wanted nothing to do with her. He waited for her to finish shopping and leave so that he could go through with his plan. He was just about to execute it when another woman, who looked like a younger version of her, walked in. She approached him. Got uncomfortably close. Whispered things in his ear. Convinced him to leave. Told him that she could help. He's been her captive since. In a nightmare that won't end. The things she's done to him. The terrible things. Her mood shifts. Her tone grows angry.)
Dusk: STOP crying!
(He does his best to pull himself together. Do as she demands. Consequences are severe when he does not comply. The wounds along his ribs are a testament to that. She had cut him...then stitched him back up. Her body is painfully pressed against them now. A body she's used to damage every part of his being.)
Dusk: That's better. Angel wouldn't cry.
(She has spoken the name of Angel multiple times. He has no idea who that is beyond the fact he is apparently dating the scarred woman that is her sister. The fact that there is more than one of these women in the world sickens him. Petrifies him. Her moods are always shifting. Her tones always changing. Tones that are so often laced with sickness. Patronizing sweetness. Rage. It contorts to an innocence with undertones of menace. Her eyes big as they look into his.)
Dusk: Did you think my sister was pretty?
(She asked it so casually. There is nothing casual about it. How should he answer? Neither possible answer feels safe. To shake his head "no" would be insulting her sister. To nod "yes" could be an insult against her. To not answer could also bring her fury. Her sadistic side. The one worse than the mocking. Her patience grows thin quickly.)
Dusk: It's a simple question love. The fact you won't answer means you are trying to spare my feelings. She is pretty. I saw how you looked at her. You WANT her. She's just so fucking special isn't she?
(His eyes widen with fear. His breathing grows heavier as rage etches her face. Her body stiffens against him as her muscles tense. The anticipation of what she might to do him fills him completely with dread. Then suddenly she relaxes. The tension fades. Her expresion softens. A smile returns to her face. A sad smile. Even her tone returns to the mockingly sweet of before.)
Dusk: I...I'm..sorry...I brought her to you.
(Her hands cup his face as she begins kissing his taped mouth softly again. Slowly, her outstretched fingers move against his face. Her thumbs tracing little circles upward. Massaging next to his eyes. As she continues to kiss the tape they stop...before plunging into his eyes. He thrashes wildly against her, against the ropes. His screams muffled by the tape and her lips. Blood and ichor ooze down the sides of his face. Eventually his thrashing ends. As does her kiss. She lifts her head and stares at him oddly for a long moment in silence.)
Dusk: I've really enjoyed our time together, but I'm just not ready for this kind of cOmMiTmEnT.
(She smiles down at the corpse beneath her and taps the side of his face twice, affectionately with a bloody hand. She climbs off the bed as her laughter echoes throughout the room.)