Chapter 1 : Control & Chaos
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 11|
Background: Font color:
CI by paradox @TDA
There were so many things that were wrong with this image. The naked man huddled in the corner of the apartment’s bedroom, crying, blood pouring around him, his arms covered in scratches and bleeding in rivers. His face was hidden by his knees, his bruised and bloodied knees, and there were undeniable bite marks on his legs.
“Why?” he whispers, as he rocks back and forth. “We could have been great. No, never again. I will keep you down.”
He cries, and you can almost hear the laughter ringing in his head.
He had seen so many destroyed by trying to fight it, by engaging in warfare with it. They were always driven insane, while their loved ones shunned them even as they clung to their bodies.
He was a proper genius. He knew there must be some way to get around it, some way to retain his intelligence without engaging in battle.
He extended his hand. He extended his hand to the Monster that wanted to be let go, the one that wanted to be free to run.
He sat in complete silence in the dark room. He rocked back and forth in the corner, trying to coax the monster to take the offered hand.
“You and I are the same,” he stated. “We share a body now. Why shouldn’t we be friends?”
The Monster snarled at him, shaking the bars of the mind cage that had been built for it. Fredrick sat on the floor across the cage. He could feel the wet saliva hit his face when the monster growled, its breath stinking of blood and rotten flesh.
They stared at each other, the Sane looking into the eyes of the Monster. Fredrick Grey knew the advantages the lycanthropes gained when they transformed; they were faster and stronger, with a heightened sense of smell, and unlike other dogs, they could see beautifully.
However, they were completely operated by their emotions and their urges to kill. Fredrick was a man of intelligence, of logic and sanity. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing control, especially to a creature that was run by its emotions.
“Come now,” he said impatiently. “I know you can talk. You can talk if I allow you to, and I’m allowing you. Let us discuss the future now that you’re with me.”
“In your mind,” the creature growled, its voice deep and like gravel. “We can discuss this in your mind. Your mind is in your body, which now belongs to me.” As if to demonstrate what he planned to do to Fredrick’s mind, the Monster grabbed one of the metal bars between his powerful jaws and yanked it off the cage. It grew back, but they both knew it wouldn’t be as strong as before.
“I shall see you when the moon is full,” said the Monster, turning around in its cage so that all Fredrick could see was its tail. “You can be trapped in the cage you constructed.”
Fredrick opened his eyes in the physical world; his mind throbbed from his previous conversation. The Monster inside him was new and acted like an arrogant seventeen-year-old child.
It would see reason eventually. Fredrick had.
He lived alone. He liked being alone. He lived in London, though, London was at least somewhat interesting. Studying was what he did in order to keep busy, studying the human mind and why it did the things it did.
Only three days until the full moon.
He couldn’t have the Monster running rampant through his small apartment. He had spent a fortune on new locks for the windows and the doors in order to make certain that the Monster wouldn’t on the city’s people. It would certainly lead the Muggle police and the Aurors to his door with a bloody trail if that happened.
Inside of him, the Monster laughed at his locks, his weak attempts to keep order within his life.
Fredrick could have visited him if he wanted. He could have brought a riding crop and showed the Monster who was human and who was the animal, but that would have defeated his purpose.
Instead, he shut off the lights in his house and visited the dark, musty corner in his mind.
I will destroy your wand when I come out,” sneered the Monster, speaking up as soon as Fredrick entered the corner. “I will smash it into a million tiny pieces. Just try to fight me. You will fail.”
Three of the bars on the cage were nothing more than stubs, and the rest were beginning to weaken, but still Fredrick showed no weakness.
After a couple minutes of silence, the Monster began to grow impatient. “What do you want?” it asked, turning to face its master.
“I want to become one,” said Fredrick, extending his hand between the bars of the Monster’s cage.
“To rip that hand off would be my pleasure,” growled the Monster. “I will not, though. It will soon be mine, and I’d rather not have a wound to hinder me.”
He tried everything. He closed all the windows, set on not seeing the full moon risen to its whole glory. He tied his hands to his bedpost.
The feeling was erupting inside him. The Monster howled its battle cry, and the sound ripped his mind apart. He screamed, but nothing came out of his mouth. If he wasn’t already sitting down, his legs would have given way.
His back arched. He didn’t want to fight it. So many had failed before him.
All he could see was blackness, as if something was pushing him into the back of his own mind, trying to keep him down for the night. It was evading his body, controlling it. The pain of the metamorphosis was too much to handle. Everything inside him broke down and built itself again in a matter of seconds.
He lost all sorts of control that night.
It didn’t matter how Fredrick and the Monster had met, nor did it matter how he came to be a lycanthrope. There was no time machine that could save his soul from being forever damned now.
The proper genius was now a broken man who was going to have to face every full moon alone. There was no joining peacefully with the Monster. There was no subduing it now, or so it seemed.
He knew, though, that he would not let it run again. He couldn’t.
The apartment was a mess. There were odd bloodstains everywhere. The window had been smashed when the Monster jumped out of it, tearing through the metal bars with his teeth.
Fredrick stood up, as if in a daze. He looked out of the broken window, not noticing the fact that the shards were stained with blood. He lifted himself onto the ledge, the flesh of his feet being punctured by broken glass, and then…
The Monster would never control him again.
Other Similar Stories
A Peculiar P...
He Hunts Me Now
by Phoenix Quill