[ ✖ - Cᴀʀɴᴀʟ Iɴsᴛɪɴᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ | Cᴏᴍᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ ]
Bᴜᴛ, ᴏʜ, ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʙᴇ ғʀᴇᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀʏs?
Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛ.
Wʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ?
The night prior had been a blur; a scattered mix of emotions tangling between the knots of insanity.
While the sun set quickly in the background, with dimmed lights flickering in the city as they burned out a trail of glory, fading back in the distance of melted memories and tasteless nights.
A silhouette of stained glass windows reflected fractals across the walls in small shapes and dusted patterns.
The dimly lit room stood in the heart of the city, between the crack of two alley ways and broken down street corners; crumbled bricks falling to the ground in collections of rubble and ruins. The windows had been boarded up and blocked off with thin panels falling from their frames, sliding down in streams like water as they clattered against the ground.
The dirt and dust collected like plagues of a vicious disease marring anything it touched, rotting woods and structures.
As the sun rose above the horizon, speckles of light peered through the shattered glass, stirring all kinds life inside the desecrated building below. A man laid limp in a rickety wooden chair, his head dipped forward with light lined incisions etched across his face like a canvas. And there D'zyátian felt his heart murmur between the cages of his chest, begging to be set free.
The pale illumination of a hanging lamp swayed with the breeze, catching flight between opened panels and restless eyelids.
A sound of calamity spread across the oak floors like a trance, lulling all into the gaze of a long lost future.
The slow creek of wooden floorboards killed the silence between the stilled bodies lying about, clusters of dust tangling between the peaks of sunlight, pouring through the cracks like melted glass in array of something spectacular.
The sound of birds could be heard just within earshot of the alley itself while D'zyátian slumped down against the rotting wall behind him, his shoulders pressing weight onto his frame as he barely managed to bring himself to consciousness, rattling eyelids stirred between the heinous thoughts of fear slowly overtaking his mind. He writhed in his spot, his fingertips twitching at the chance, sending fits of tremors through his spine as he shuddered.
The sound of the world was beginning to die out and peace seemed to linger off in a sanctuary too far away to reach.
"Hnngh-" D'zyátian winced, his hands fumbling at his sides in a deranged panic as his situation slow begun to seep into his thoughts, his breath short and shallow between the locks of his hair tangling in knots against his fingertips as he tried to bite down the pain of a severe ache in the tendrils of his brain.
He thumbed through each patch of hair against his head, the strands falling down like silk as he pressed on, the pads of his digits rubbing circles into the opening of his forehead as he groaned lowly, his throat vibrating against the dull murmur in his stomach.
The words scrawled across the floor had been carved with a knife, thin piercing metal jammed through the board with an arrow directed at D'zyátian. The letters lay across the ground artfully designed, shavings piled between the rough edges of the masterpiece that read:
D'zyátian stared at the floor in absent horror, his eyes trailing down the markings that lead to his arm. A bright yellow note had been taped against his bicep, his brain trying to piece together information as he barely managed to snag the note between his fingertips, his body slack against the frame of the room. He felt his soul slip from his body as he read the neatly printed collection of letters below:
Your salvation lies in the knife placed in the corner.
Slash your throat and the other escapes.
Slash his throat and you're free.
Play the saint and starve.
"What- in the world?" D'zyátian whispered lowly, his voice shaking as he let the paper fall to the ground with the swish of the wind, his body beginning to numb as he collected his thoughts. He felt his breath catch in his throat as his hands started to shake uncontrollably, his body wracking nervously as he trembled.
In that moment every sound, every noise became a whole lot clearer, any tick or tock, any drip and any drop became a whole lot louder.
The knife was supposed to be in the corner.
This realization sent him to his feet, his hands shoved against the floor as he pushed himself off of the ground, his footing unstable as he reached for the wall to steady himself, his eyes were glued to the knife lodged into the ground beneath him as he tried to calm his racing heart. The tremble in his body had been more than visible through thin hairs standing on edge and the slight vibration of his feet against the old flooring.
He felt as though he would fall right through, down to the bottom of the building.
As far as curiosity went D'zyátian was prey to that trap in several instances, he forced his body around, shifting in his spot before he leaned against the boards covering the windows, his brows furrowing as he squinted in order to focus on the small crack of the panels. He found his focus outside on buildings littering the city as if nothing would go wrong, cars and people bustling in between street corners and sidewalks like microscopic ants hurrying about.
He nearly shoved through the wall as he forced himself back, creating a distance between him and the window in order to protect his delicate mind, teetering on the edges of sanity. His heel clipped the edge of one floor board as he tumbled down onto his back, his shoulders biting down into the splinters of wood slipping through the fabric of his shirt, pressing thin pricks of pain in his skin as he whimpered heavily, his mouth parting as he desperately tried to suck in a deep breath, his lungs pulsating at the chance.
D'zyátian exhaled slowly, relief flooding his system as he dropped his head to the ground, his eyes closing thoughtfully as he tried to calm his wayward heart. He turned to press his cheek into the cool ground before finally working up the courage to pull through. He opened his eyes slowly, his breath catching as he was greeted with the metallic gleam of the knife beside him, within centimetres of his face. He shoved himself back, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets as he scurried away as quickly as possible.
He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he stood, short sharp pants of his breath tumbling out in the dozens as he willed down the rapid thumping in his chest.
"I can't..." D'zyátian murmured softly, his chest rising and falling between the thick shots of hyperventilation circulating his system, shallow breaths punctuating his distress. "Do- this."
"Why not?" A low, eased breath cooed softly in the darkness that drug D'zyátian from his thoughts, spooking him immediately as he spun around to face the voice that confronted him.
The man in the chair had woken from the noise and clatter of his counterpart fumbling about in utter panic.
He stared through the dim lighting, his lips curled into a disgusting smirk as he laughed, low chuckles falling from his lips as he watched the horror sneak across D'zyátian's features. His arms had been bound to the chair with rope, digging deep into his flesh as he felt his body shake with excitement.
D'zyátian noticed that the man was bound from his feet up, his ankles secured tightly with a thick tan rope and snaked around his hips and chest trailing to his arms and hands, inches away from binding his throat as well.
"Oh- shut up with the formalities, let's have a little fun." The man interrupted once again, his teeth bared through the light as he grinned from ear to ear. "Park, Chanyeol. November twenty seventh, nineteen ninety two, a child born curse. Isn't that right?"
"No. That's not." D'zyátian spoke up angrily, his hands clenching at his sides as he made room to speak.
"He likes to call himself." The other laughed and laughed, his fingers waving D'zyátian off as though he was pathetic. "The dreamer."
"Shut the hell up!" D'zyátian was beyond fed up, his tone had been filled with venom as he cursed the other out, his shoulders tense as he hissed.
"Oh- careful now." The man narrowed his eyes, his lips flattening together as he clicked his tongue with irritation. "The note taped to your sleeve says it all."
"What are you going to do?"
"Have you ever had blood on your hands?"
"Where did the knife go?" The man whispered softly, his teeth bared once again as he chuckled, his eyes trained on the other as he breathed heavily. "What are you going to do?"
As the other man had spoken up D'zyátian retraced his steps mentally for a moment before he turned to try to spot the knife, his eyes widening in a blind panic as he realized the weapon had no longer been jammed into the floor boards.
The situation had his mind reeling as he glanced around frantically, his breath falling out in short bursts as he wheezed, his chest palpating as he tried to collect himself, shoving through the discarded items scattered across the floor as he looked for shelter. His entire body shook with fervor as he paced through the building, searching for a damned door that actually closed.
He retreated into the darkness only to find a small storage like room with a properly attached frame and door. He slipped inside, slamming the door behind him as he desperately tried to barricade the frame with anything he could find.
He wasn't going to die tonight.
He wasn't ready for that.
"Good luck sleeping tonight." The man shouted from his spot, his feet hitting the floor repeatedly as he laughed menacingly.
The dull clatter of shoes hitting the ground kept D'zyátian from his rest. He sat silently inside of the storage unit, backed into the further corner possible as his head bobbed forward, eyelids drooping as he struggled to keep himself together. His body swayed between the loud stomps and he looked delirious only after a few hours of intense mind games before he finally managed to try something else.
D'zyátian crawled across the floor searching through the trinkets littered about before he snagged a cheap small lighter. He flicked the device a few times, trying to get a light before sputtering sparks caught flame. He held the light up quickly, scanning the room with caution as he looked about. His eyes froze on a calculated display of red blood looking material smeared across the walls in hand prints. He struggled to find breath as held his hand up to the wall, the print pressed cleanly into the structure had matched his.
The same size and the same design.
D'zyátian choked on his own breath as his eyes caught sight of the knife, slammed into the wall between the prints of blood. He fell to his knees, his arm circling around his stomach as he hacked, dry heaving any sort of dirtied air in his system. His body shaking as he grunted lowly, before his body emptied.
He sucked in a short breath before regurgitating every last piece of food he consumed within the week.
"What's wrong Chanyeol?" The man whined sarcastically, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he made disturbed faces. "Did something happen?"
"Are you feeling a little blue?" He continued on, his words repeating themselves in the dull tilt of his head.
"Shut up! Just shut up! Leave me alone!" D'zyátian wanted
"What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"You're fucking crazy, you're psychotic." D'zyátian nearly yelped, throwing his hands up in the air as he whined, his breath wavering as he shook his head. "You're a lunatic."
"I wouldn't be talking if I were you."
"I don't have some odd crazy personalities in order to pretend that everything will be okay."
The room had filled with a thick musky smoke, pouring in through the vents of the rooms as the man spoke, the clouds wafted up between the both of them, punctuating the silence as it drone on. The dense air clogged up through his throat as he tried to gasp for breath.
D'zyátian paused nervously, his hands shivering at his sides as he looked around frantically. His vision blurred as he stumbled about, crashing down into the wall beside him as he clutched at his side painfully. He thought he was going to choke to death.
"What the--" He mumbled lowly, his head spinning as he curled into himself groaning out loud, his breath shorting before he faded out.
"Chanyeol. Chanyeol." The man spoke up softly, his tone dropping pitched as he chuckled, his eyes glittering in the bright of the light. "Wake up. It's time to get up."
"You've been sleeping all day." The man greeted D'zyátian with a cheerful air about him, his tone bordering friendly as he continued on, prying out more and more of D'zyátian's energy as he spoke. "You're running out of time."
"A decision must be made."
"What the hell do you want from me?!" D'zyátian screamed, his hands digging through his hair as he shouted, his legs banging against the floor as he struggled to push himself up. "Just stop talking- just stop. Stop." He panted heavily, his body writhing uncontrollably as he whimpered. "Please. Just leave me alone."
"What's wrong?" The man smirked as he spoke, his expression taunting the other as he enjoyed the pain. "Do you want mommy and daddy to kiss it better?"
"No. I just want you to shut up and leave me alone." D'zyátian stated boldly, his eyes drooping as he turned to face the man harassing him. "What do you want from me?"
"I want to escape from here. I want to be free."
"It says that only one of us-" D'zyátian whispered softly, his arms crossing over his chest as he stared at the ground. "It says- only one of us can survive. Otherwise- we both starve." He thumbed through his thoughts in a panic, desperately trying to figure himself out. "I don't know what to do."
"You die." He chuckled, wriggled in his chair, sending the pegs against the ground in clatters and he stomped against the ground. "I'm so funny!"
"I am not going to kill anyone!" D'zyátian shouted, his fist clenching together as he hissed, his body trembling as he stood in his spot.
"I am so surprised Chanyeol." The man stated seriously, his voice dark and low as he stared into D'zyátian's eyes with a soft smile crossing his lips. "You went to sleep." He continued, tapping his digits against the arm of the chair as he hummed softy. "But you still woke up as the Dreamer." The man yawned, tipping his head back against the frame before shaking again. "Aren't you supposed to wake up someone different? Isn't that to protect you? You're supposed to save yourself and you're still you."
"I don't know." D'zyátian spoke lightly, his eyes trained on the ground as he watched the dust collect in front of his face. "I think. It's because this is my battle and not- theirs. And I am supposed to finish this."
"You're wasting your time. It's nearly night again. You were out the entire day- are you trying to kill us both. I am starving!" The man shouted in a rage, wiggling his chair more and more until the small sound of a crack seeped through the air, startling the both of them.
D'zyátian turned to face the man immediately his breath catching in his throat as he swallowed the lump.
"You stay in your chair." He murmured, feeling the perspiration gather against his forehead. "Don't you dare move."
"No way!" The man screamed, his voice piercing the air as he screeched. "I am coming to get you! I am not going to die today!"
The creak of the chair was taunting him, drawing D'zyátian out of his mind and forcing him from his morals. The man in front of him was threatening his lifeline and his stability, his support and his well being. His brain begun to surge and ache with the carnal desperation snaking through his system. He wanted nothing more than to be okay.
And desperation wasn't going to save him.
When the man in the mirror isn't who you want to see, how in the world can you expect everyone else to be?
The sound of the chair coming apart sent D'zyátian from the room, he bounded down the steps, shoving passed a broken frame as he sent pieces of the wall flying down to the ground. He ran passed the items and rubble pooled at the ground, searching for any out possible. He was not going to die. He was not going to die. He was not going to die.
D'zyátian found a window with three panels hanging limp, he shoved himself to the board, ripping at them frantically, tugging the planks from their sockets as he screamed.
"Help!" He howled, hurling his fist through the window as he sent shards of glass flying to the ground of the city. "Someone! Help me! Please! They're trying to kill me!" He screamed, his breath hitching as he pried through the sharp edges, his hands cutting against the glass as he pushed the pieces through. His blood dripped down, pooling at the incisions on his skin as he feel to the ground, his wrist caught against the ridged edges of the window. D'zyátian laid helpless on the floor of the rotting building, his wrist dangling above his head uselessly as he felt lightheaded. He groaned lowly, exhaling soft puffs of air as he sunk into the floor.
"I give up." He whimpered, his breath wafting up in front of his face as he trembled. "You can kill me."
"One day." The man whispered gently as he knelt down beside D'zyátian his lips curling into a soft familiar smile. "One day, you might remember me." He cooed softly, his lips pursing together as he brushed his hand across D'zyátian's forehead, his fingertips curling through his hair. "One day- you'll remember who I am."
The time was ticking away and D'zyátian found himself nestled in the center of the room, his arms and hands stinging with pain from the cuts and bruises as he sighed softly, his chest aching as he tried to find his voice. He whimpered softly, shifting to pull himself up before noticing that his wounds had been treated, his hands bandages to stop the bleeding, his head soaked with a wet cloth.
He pushed himself up before looking around the desolate room, finding nothing, no one.
It was as if everything had been a dream.
D'zyátian swallowed heavily as he cleared his throat, his body sore in every joint as he made way to move.
"Hello?" He spoke up carefully, his eyes narrowed as he tried to make out his surroundings. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
A slow tune played through speakers in every corner of the room, subtly carrying a melody through each subsection of the building. The soft song brought a distance peace about him, calming every nerve as it twinkled on.
"Congratulations. You have undergone your first successful treatment. You have completed the first level."
The tune faded off through the speakers as a gentle voice was replaced with a series of complicated explanations inclining him to remember his original status of mind.
As she spoke up and continued her in depth analysis D'zyátian felt a slow burning sensation overtake him piece by piece, replacing all soothed nerves with rage. He felt his body tighten at the words carefully uttered above before his eyes turned black and lifeless. He had been tricked and taken advantage of and everything he stood for was falling out from beneath him.
And it was just a puzzle perfectly aligned in pieces. He was just another experiment.
Another day locked up in a cramped room would have driven him crazy.
Another hour forced into a silenced darkness would have changed him.
Another minute stuck in the confines of society would have turned him into a monster.
Another second cornered away between walls would have enabled him.
He would have done something terrible.
He would have turned into something horrible.
The whole disaster had been over, it came to a screeching halt on day three and everything had finally been over. D'zyátian felt himself trapped in a battle of wits, designed only for the greatest. He felt his stomach sinking into his body as his limbs fell lifelessly at his sides as he carried himself down to the first floor of the old abandoned building.
There he was greeted with a large pair of oak framed doors, intricately designed with etched symbols scrawled across them in a magnificent display of craftsmanship. He stood empty, his body drained of everything, energy depleted to the core as he tried to make his body move. He had been exhausted of use, his hands shaking as he pressed him palms into the door.
D'zyátian pressed through the wooden gate and adjusted himself onto the street as he stepped into the bustling sidewalk of people. He adjusted the jacket hanging loose on his shoulders as he trailed down the road with a new found confidence. His cheek had been covered with scars and scratches, his face marked with dirt and dust as he brushed his steadied fingertips down his pants, trying to rub away the memory of what happened there as he carried on.
He had no turned back to look inside of the building, he had not looked around to see where he was going, he had not made a single note of recognition and he didn't want to.
He wanted everything in his power to erase the existence of what happened today, he wanted to make sure he could not bring himself to recall any unique landmarks and with that.
He wanted nothing to exist.
I am a dreamer. My name is D'zyátian and you have no power over me.
I may not be who you think I am. I may not understand everything on a certain level. And I may be faced with difficulties ahead of me however that doesn't change who I am. And it doesn't make any difference within in me. I am a man of my word a solider of my own fight. I am a dreamer nonetheless, but I am a fighter all the more.
I am not your presentation. I am not your protects. I am not your experiments and I am not a trophy with dust.
You cannot control me. You cannot control who I am.
You cannot change me and you cannot bring me to my knees.
I may not be the man you expect of me. And I may not give into the instincts of human life. I may not be your vicious guard dog. But I am stronger than you think. I am way more prepared and way smarter than you can possibly imagine. You can dedicate your life to my discovery. You can spend years of your life trying. You won't get in. You won't make it.
You can dare to possibly try to understand me.
I am the man in the mirror and I am everything you wished you could have had.
I am everything I need. I am everything I want.
After hailing a cab at least block away from that accursed building D'zyátian felt himself breathe for the first time in three days, he felt his heart race in a burst of energy and excitement as he fidgeted in his spot. He felt his lungs fill with fresh air and brilliant ideas, he felt his blood pumping in a way he had never imagined possible. And he felt alive and free and maybe just a bit hungry with a long nap due later when he finally got home.
He felt as though he belonged home.
And nothing was going to stop him.
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