IC Inbox: Empatheias

[young_oldman]

[Your birds might get a little plump on bird seeds. Just saying.]

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CW: blood, torture, eye-gore, blinding

[young_oldman]

[He'd been up, actually. Cleaning the house, because at least that's something to do versus staying in his room counting the seconds until dawn. The lights are all switched on, and he's on his knees scrubbing the floor when he feels something prodding him in his mind. At first he ignores it, and he just scrubs and scrubs until he's nearly stripped the colour of the tiles because his hands are tightening around the brush and he's really punishing the floor, but it would be better that way because he knows what this is, and maybe if he could keep his mind on something else, something mundane like counting the plates or, or sterilizing the floor then maybe it'd go away.

But because he hasn't figured out that it's the crystal, it's only a matter of time before something else reminds him of the past. Tonight, it's the sudden flicker of the lights above him. It's just a small flicker from one of the smaller lights, but it's enough to send his mind jumping straight back into paranoia...and straight into Junko's plan.

He knocks over the bucket, sending water and soapy suds all over the floor. Scrambling up to press his back against the wall, he grabs at his arms again, as if he's checking that he still has them again. Breath turned ragged, eyes turned wild, he's transported back, back there, and it's illogical and it can't be real and yet it feels so real. The pain. The screams. The blood.

He can't escape.

He'd tried to rid himself of that false dogma. He's actually been seriously participating in his counselling sessions (not that he wasn't before, but he'd been stubborn, resistant to some of the counselors gentle discussions and advice), learning to slowly open up to people again. It's hard work, it's frustrating, but he's determined not to fall back into old habits, even if his mind constantly rehashes the same old but still very convincing arguments that what he's doing is wrong, that he needs to stop being around people, that for all his efforts he's still going to hurt someone again.

This is so much more different than proving himself past his youthful follies. Back then he had been confident, sure of his character if not his capabilities. But now it is his very character that he doubts and fears, and if he cannot have faith in the man he is now than how is he to succeed?

Junko's attack is far more vicious this time, accompanied by imagery and sounds similar enough to tear into his mind and memories. So it's not any surprise then that this time she'll not only get that blast of negativity over their amulets, but also more fuel for further fire.

Honestly there are parts of his memories that are missing. He's told that that's normal, that during times of extreme stress the brain shuts down because it can't handle what's happening. But there's enough fragments here and there to piece together a rough outline of what happened. For people out of the modern age like Junko, it'll be akin to watching a badly pirated movie, or a damaged movie reel. Jumps in the sequences, holes in the scenes. The one constant in all these fragments though is the blood, and the howls of the dying and the tortured.

Then suddenly she's in darkness, with all the red and noise abruptly sucked away. Or rather it's he, because it's his memory. But since she wants to be so nosy about things, she'll get to experience it herself.

Snip snip. Snip snip. A childish, excited giggle.

And then a sharp, stabbing pain, so much pain in her left eye and all her vision's stained red. That giggle explodes into a frenzied, maniacal cackling, and briefly she can see with her blurry right eye the glint of a pair of scissors, raised up high with blood dripping off it, before it comes barreling down and pain, more pain, her mocking laughter as she stabs him again and again and again.

In the throes of a panic attack, he accidentally knocks his amulet away and that ends the connection between them abruptly. But this attack has not ended, and it's likely that he's alerted Shun to what's happening with how the apartment shakes as if a tremor has struck, cracks spreading everywhere from him and destroying the floor, wrecking the walls and sending dust and plaster raining on him. Drawers are rattled, and then yanked out of their slots to send their contents falling to the ground.

So much for cleaning the house.]

[sobored]

[It's no surprise at all, but this isn't the first time she's seen something like that. Not at all. But seeing it from that point of view floors her. For a second she can't breathe and she's so glad when the connection's broken because something important would bleed through. Or maybe it already did? Maybe there was a gasp in there that wasn't quite his own, but hey, is he really that attentive right now?

But anyways, it's probably a good thing she doesn't have any company today. Because she's not really in the state to deal with anyone, what with the fact that she's laughing and crying on the floor and the flooring is rotting around her...which is going to be a problem, but not one she's dealing with at the moment.

It's all too much. She's really overjoyed at the fact that he would share such a despair inducing sight with her, but at the same time, in complete despair over what she saw, despairing over what he must've felt, despairing over his reaction, and yes, actually despairing over the fact that he's handed her the perfect ammunition to use against him in the future.

Because yes, there will be a next time. And a time after that. And a time after that. And a time after that. But maybe she'll get bored and that'll be it? Or not. It's impossible to tell when she'll tire of this particular game.]