InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Him True ❯ Him True ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Numisma 
I don't own Inuyasha.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.06.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 549 | Visits: 499 | Status: Completed
I don't own Inuyasha.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Psychological | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.06.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 549 | Visits: 499 | Status: Completed
Long before Him Two took over, Him One first noticed he was not alone.
He knew nothing but of being a doctor. Though the sight of blood consistently caused him to faint -and he’d wake up some time later with razorblade headaches that threatened to stretch and pull his mind apart, and the sensation of a chilling laugh would vibrate through his bones- dealing with blood was inevitably a job requirement. He always figured that he’d just have to toughen up.
For the sake of his image.
For the sake of his patients.
Through hell and high water, they sometimes say. But did they ever consider the tempests that rage on other planes? The storms that rumble ‘neath darkened dream-skies?
He first knew there was another when, upon awakening from his most recent blackout, the other’s voice slithered through his head upon whispered tiptoe -crooning out his displeasure in a prickly hiss as long curled claws began to carve jagged furrows into the inner surface of his skull- and latched on tight, never to let go.
From then on it was always a matter of blocking out those parasitic words of malice.
A matter of self-control.
Only a matter of suppressing what seemed his very antithesis.
He held on tight, held on fierce, though in the end it seemed nothing could hold against the insistent scrapings his nails made against the inside of their skull. It cracked and split open, and Him Two burst forth.
Him One receded without a fight, watching with pain as Him Two took over.
Having lurked within Him One since the very beginning, Him Two claimed it only fitting that he take control. After all, he said as he stood amidst the burning rubble and took joy in the screams of victims he’d slashed apart -the very same victims Him One had tried to save- in the end it doesn’t matter who surfaced first.
Him One came before Him Two, but only one is Him True.
After his retreat, Him One often scraped at the walls of his bone prison, screaming in horror at all the atrocities Him Two was committing. But he always, always continued to suffer from those piercing headaches, and he’d faint at the sight of blood -and he’d wake up some time later with razorblade headaches that threatened to stretch and pull his existence apart, blood staining his hands and drying beneath his nails, and the sensation of a chilling laugh would vibrate through his bones- and all the while a shadowed hand would be reaching for his sanity, outstretched, ready to snap those tenebrous strings. Inches away, it would instead strum a sickening melody, and he would have no choice but to sit back and pretend that this was how it’s always been.
Before Him Two, Him One knew nothing but of being a doctor. He never knew if he was Him True. It never occurred to him that either of them could be false.
Only that they both existed.
He knew nothing but of being a doctor. Though the sight of blood consistently caused him to faint -and he’d wake up some time later with razorblade headaches that threatened to stretch and pull his mind apart, and the sensation of a chilling laugh would vibrate through his bones- dealing with blood was inevitably a job requirement. He always figured that he’d just have to toughen up.
For the sake of his image.
For the sake of his patients.
Through hell and high water, they sometimes say. But did they ever consider the tempests that rage on other planes? The storms that rumble ‘neath darkened dream-skies?
He first knew there was another when, upon awakening from his most recent blackout, the other’s voice slithered through his head upon whispered tiptoe -crooning out his displeasure in a prickly hiss as long curled claws began to carve jagged furrows into the inner surface of his skull- and latched on tight, never to let go.
From then on it was always a matter of blocking out those parasitic words of malice.
A matter of self-control.
Only a matter of suppressing what seemed his very antithesis.
He held on tight, held on fierce, though in the end it seemed nothing could hold against the insistent scrapings his nails made against the inside of their skull. It cracked and split open, and Him Two burst forth.
Him One receded without a fight, watching with pain as Him Two took over.
Having lurked within Him One since the very beginning, Him Two claimed it only fitting that he take control. After all, he said as he stood amidst the burning rubble and took joy in the screams of victims he’d slashed apart -the very same victims Him One had tried to save- in the end it doesn’t matter who surfaced first.
Him One came before Him Two, but only one is Him True.
After his retreat, Him One often scraped at the walls of his bone prison, screaming in horror at all the atrocities Him Two was committing. But he always, always continued to suffer from those piercing headaches, and he’d faint at the sight of blood -and he’d wake up some time later with razorblade headaches that threatened to stretch and pull his existence apart, blood staining his hands and drying beneath his nails, and the sensation of a chilling laugh would vibrate through his bones- and all the while a shadowed hand would be reaching for his sanity, outstretched, ready to snap those tenebrous strings. Inches away, it would instead strum a sickening melody, and he would have no choice but to sit back and pretend that this was how it’s always been.
Before Him Two, Him One knew nothing but of being a doctor. He never knew if he was Him True. It never occurred to him that either of them could be false.
Only that they both existed.