The Second Dream.
“Hello?”
With pristine features and perfect skin, it stared out blankly. It called for them, reaching out with a soundless voice and drawing them into the depths of its golden gaze. It remained perfectly motionless as it entrapped them, bending them for its own use.
He hated the monster.
The cold, sightless creature within its cage. The pleasant girl who loved him so much. The uncaring void that took the guise of a human. The helpless girl that had befriended him. Thinking about the monster evoked a rage deep within his chest, bringing forth the knowledge that he would kill her. Oh yes, he would bring about its end. This was one of the only facts that he was perfectly sure of.
He would kill her. He had to. He would not relinquish his only chance of humanity, especially to the clutches of that thing.
”What’s your name?”
She spoke clearly and happily, uncaring, unmoving, unseeing, and unfeeling. His lip drew back in rage, their twin golden gazes meeting. The monster, masquerading as a trusted friend, as a helpless girl. He could see past her manipulations and lies. He knew because she was just like him. They were exactly the same monster, bred for the same purpose and holding the same desires within them.
Trapped behind their glass cages, they were unable to partake in their purposes. She lay there, comatose, the world bustling around without her knowledge. He crouched, dormant, unable to break free from the mental prison that contained him. They were created to kill, and their only chance to realize it was in the love of the gray-eyed boy. The one key for both existences… though only one could triumph. The innocent boy who had no idea of just how important he was to both of the monsters.
He hated her and her rivalry, fighting to manipulate the boy. The boy smiled happily, caring for her, wanting nothing more than to help the girl behind the glass. The more he cared for the silver monster, the more he forgot his own.
”We don’t have to kill anyone!”
The boy, now, man, refused to even turn and look at him as he clenched his fists, facing the dark expanses of space through a large glass cage of his own. His own lips twisted upwards.
He had won. He had triumphed. All that was left was to destroy the remaining pieces. To make sure the girl, the monster that he fought for control of the gray-eyed man’s mind, was dead.
The only way to free himself from his cage was through the boy.
The only way for her to know anything of the outside world was through the boy.
Oh, he would kill her.
”I don’t want to shoot…”
The scenes were changing more chaotically, the boy sobbed at the feet of his broken and maimed friends. Why was he so upset? He didn’t understand why the boy he loved so much was upset. What was so distressing?
”In that case, I’ll give you a name.”
She was so smug, so condescending, to think herself righteous enough to hand out titles and names. References, words that stood for individuals. She had a name. They all had names. Did it make them that much better?
But it brought the boy so much joy…
”What will your final words be? Mama? Your lover’s name?”
He was grinning, malice bleeding through every syllable as the gray-eyed man screamed, cried out in distress and pain. His eyes were wide in excitement, enjoyment, living out his life and presence through the other, his hands slowly tightening on the foreign, but oh-so-natural controls.
”I don’t want to shoot!”
The boy was crying again, distressed. Why did the silver monster bring him so much joy, and the monster inside his own head nothing but misery? Why was he so hated? It brought forth frustration, anger, resentment. What was so different? Why was he not just as cherished as she? The girl who thought herself high enough to grant the gray-eyed boy a name.
”No… my name is-!!“
The boy loved her, she brought him happiness, and yet she was going to cause his death. He loved the Boy, he brought him pain and hurt, and yet he was going to bring about prosperity. Why would he choose her? Why would be opt for momentary pleasure rather than his own personal well-being? He grew bitter, cold. Ruthless.
He would kill her and save the boy. No matter what.
”It’s a word to give thanks to God.”
A Praise.