Compromised System || Teilo&Roy
He was never scared of heights. He’d never gotten that lump in his stomach as his parents drove across a tall bridge or when he’d look of the balcony of a ten story building. He didn’t understand people’s fear of heights until he was twelve years old and his parents took him to an amusement park. His father wanted to go on the drop tower with Roy. And everyone acted like it was terrible, being up so high. Roy didn’t care. The ride rose and rose into the sky, making the rest of the park appear like a scale model, like what the architects had presented to the investor as they pitched the idea for the park. And then the brakes released, dropping the car, and he understood. It wasn’t a fear of heights. It was a fear of falling. Plummeting to the earth at a speed you shouldn’t reach. And then the brakes screeched, guiding the machine to the ground slowly. Feeling what it was like to fall, only to be slowly brought to a stop made his head spin. And after that he still didn’t have a fear of heights, but he did always worry about falling. Falling but not having anything but the ground to stop him.
He hadn’t slept since Wednesday night. Since before everyone felt the Infections leave; shut off; stop working. He couldn’t sleep. Every time Roy closed his eyes, it was just so quiet, so empty. So suffocating and empty. Like feeling claustrophobic, but instead the room was too big. The ceiling so high he couldn’t see it, the walls so far away. That’s what it felt like inside his head, inside his own skin. Nothing was right, nothing was as it should be.
He hoped it would come back Friday, but it didn’t. And Saturday morning he hoped the same thing, but it seemed like there was nothing. No signs of the Infections coming back, no signs of where they’d gone. And he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He didn’t know what his thought process was. He didn’t know if he really had one. All he knew was that he was tired. Tired of being alone, tired of being treated like he was even more crazy, just plain old exhausted.
And he wanted the Reaper back.
He wanted him back more than he thought was possible. He didn’t realize how lonely it would feel, how fucking quiet and how lost he would be. And how empty. Just void of everything. It was like the place inside him that the Reaper had occupied was either left empty, or the Reaper had given him back that bit of himself that he’d kicked out to make room. Roy knew he kicked some part out of Roy’s head. And he often wondered where it went. If it was trapped in some hellscape, and the visions were like some sort of insurance to make sure Roy did what he was told. So he didn’t end up there completely. Because that’s what would happen, that’s what he always told himself would happen. If the Reaper won whatever mental staring contest they were having, Roy’s ‘soul’ or whatever--Roy didn’t know what it was-- would be kicked out and his body would be taken over by the Reaper. Like a demon possessing a corpse or something. Still Roy’s face, but he’d be gone.
He thought about lots of ways to get the Reaper to come back, to notice him again. To apologize or to trick him. One of the first thoughts that whatever bit of him that hadn’t completely lost it quickly dashed was doing what the Reaper had wanted him to do all that time. What he was supposed to do. The Reaper wanted chaos and destruction and death... and Roy didn’t like the first way he thought of bringing that about.
This was... better? This was at least him. Just him. He’d be the only one that would get hurt. If anyone got hurt.
The sun was setting. The oranges and pinks bleeding across the fading pale blue gray sky. If he looked behind him he could see the creeping of the darkness of night starting to slink into the world. That was something good about winter. It got dark a lot quicker. It’d be less scary at night. In the dark. He wouldn’t be able to see how high off the ground the roof of the Calyset tower really was. He wouldn’t be able to see the ground. Just an inky blob with maybe the occasional highlight of where a pathway was or something.
He wasn’t going to jump. Not... not really. Just... stand at the edge of the building, where he could see the faded white toes of his high tops hanging over the edge of the roof. Close enough that he was almost there. Far enough that he still had a chance to step back if he got too scared. But he wasn’t scared. He was just tired. His heart was racing, but that had to just be the adrenaline, his body telling him this was wrong, but his mind was still. Not even the static he would hear when the Reaper went silent inside his mind. Just. Nothing.
It was cold, he was tired, and he didn’t know what else to do. He was only wearing a long sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Nothing warm enough for the winter. He was shivering and he didn’t know what it was from. Roy hated this. He hated it. He wanted to stand there, threatening death, taunting it, practically praying the Reaper came back. Either to keep his vessel from being destroyed or to welcome Roy to whatever there was after this. He just... he needed him to come back. He needed...
He barely registered the sound of the door opening. He just kept staring at the sunset, aware of how easy it would be to slip and fall. But he wasn’t afraid of falling anymore. He was just scared of being here alone.
@teiloembry