I've been wanting to write this one for a while. It's not going to be very long, just around 6 short chapters. The title is important. I won't say more, as it may ruin the story!


6. Believe

   The Crazy Man says he's going to try a different tactic. He's tried and tried to get me to see the truth, he tells me. He says that he wants to show me something. He draws my attention to a television in his office. It hums to life, and an image appears on the screen. There is a date. It's the last time we met. I see myself, at the very desk which I sit in now, facing The Crazy Man. My head is down. I suppose this must be the end of our last meeting.

   He tells me to pay very close attention to what is about to happen. The image begins to move. At first, there is silence. Then The Crazy Man begins to beg me to come back. He tells me to listen to his voice. Of course, I do not. Suddenly, something strange happens.

   I-I don't understand. It doesn't make sense. I should be still. Why am I moving? I hear my voice, but it isn't my own. It makes odd, savage grunts. It screams at The Crazy Man. The Feral Man stands aggressively. No, not him. It can't be him. It's me. But it can't be me either. I would never do such things. The horror continues. He goes to lift the desk, but the sound of a door is heard.

   Men in uniform rush into the room. The Feral Man turns to them, the table still tightly in his clutches. He heaves the heavy weight at the men. His face is indescribable. It's twisted by pure hatred. A hatred which seems to be directed not only at the men, but at everything. The world is his enemy. 

   The men taze him. He struggles against the enormous voltage, thrashing about like a bear in a trap. It is in vain. He collapses into a heap of trembling flesh. The sound is haunting. It is both pitiful and powerful. His vengeance mixes with my regret. No, his regret.

   But The Feral man wouldn't make such a sound. He feels no pain, no guilt. He is a horrifying predator. He does not submit. I am the one who regrets. I am the one who hurts. I am the one who submits. That scream is my own. But it is The Feral Man's. It is ours. The Darkness calls to me. It makes promises of security, certainty. I know they are empty. I have seen the truth. I remember the secret. I concentrate on who I am. I believe that we are one.

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