"Wall of Illusion"
[Fiend / Effect] The monster attacking this creature is returned to its owner's hand. Any damage resulting from the attack is calculated normally.
It is dark in the tiny room. I'm the only one in here, resting my head upon my knees. I brush an errant spike of hair away from my face. Wait. Wine-colored eyes gaze with a lazy intensity at the door. They will be coming soon. Wait.
A rattle at the door.
It is such a *heavy* door. It always takes them so long to unlock, to open.
The door cracks open, a cautious sliver of light spilling into the room. If the door was slow, light is even slower when it comes into this room.
I surge to my feet. I pin myself against the wall, behind the door. It swings open, ponderous and heavy. My face flushes with suppressed anger. Despite my warnings, the guard insists on going through this ritual every day. Very well. I will complete my *own* portion of the ritual.
"Motou? You in here?" Such casual, mocking words. I hear a sigh, the faint rustle of a hand running through hair. "I'm getting tired of this, pal. I'm only doing my job. Why don't you just come out and take your--" The voice trails off, the invader walking deeper into the small room to find its occupant.
No, guard. Not today. I dash away from my hiding place, dart away from the guard bearing his strange apothecary of poisons. I hear the guard squeak out a startled yelp and see the tray and its poisons shatter against the floor. I run out of the room and past the startled, raven-haired invader.
I skid to a halt, looking about myself wildly. So many other chambers... So many locked doors... The hallway is so long... Where to go? Quickly! That way! My bare feet slap against the worn tile of the floor. So cold out here. These paper-thin garments provide no protection against this cold, barely any protection for my modesty. I turn a corner, almost crash into a wall, but keep running. They will find me, they will catch me, but I will make them pay in every way possible.
Footsteps behind me. A pursuer.
"Damn it, Motou!"
Damn it, guard. This gets tiring.
So many twists and turns about this place. So many ways to go, so many traps that must be avoided. A door! An open door! Here, it is almost a miracle. What strength and energy I hold in reserve must now called into play, all for this last mad sprint towards... towards whatever lies beyond that miraculous open door.
"Hey, you, Wheeler! Stop him!"
From out of nowhere, a hand reaches out and grabs me. Everything pauses for a few startled moments. I spin around and stare into wide amber eyes. Shaggy blond hair frames a young face. Such beautiful eyes, sunlight pouring through a jar of honey. I'm falling, but why so slowly? Strong hands grasp my shoulders and support my slight weight. I have to look up to stare into those amber eyes.
Time resumes its passage with the screeching of the guard's voice. I tear away from this stranger and continue this desperate escape. Before, it was merely a practice in frustration for both me and the guard. But now... Now there is a chance... Slim, almost nonexistent, as fragile as a pixie's wings, but *real...*
More hallways, more locked doors.
It is almost enough to make me fall to my knees and weep.
I turn, lean my weight forward, am so ready, so close to running....
I'm grabbed again. Roughly this time. I whirl around, jab stiff fingers into the guard's solar plexus, hear the other gasp, watch him fall to his knees. Other hands, other footsteps echo in the halls and between my ears. I try not to cry out, not to waste any unnecessary moves that could be used later, but I start to struggle, to twist about in their multi-armed grasp. They cling to me like some terrible kraken with a thousand hands, each pulling rudely at my arms and legs, pinning me to the ground, crushing the breath from my body, pressing my face to the cold pale floor can't breathe let go let go unhand me
"Unhand me!" I scream voice ripping from my throat something sharp piercing my skin my mind where am I why are they doing
"Hey, let him go!"
this too late too late can't stop darkness from creeping rushing into eyes mouth ears, getting raped by this darkness, forced from me into me but
"You okay?" that voice "What did you guys do to him?" amber eyes
that voice follows me
"Damn it, Joey! What were you thinking? Or are you even capable of the simpler functions commonly associated with the higher order of primates?"
Joseph Wheeler stands with his hands shoved in his pockets. His jaw is set in a firm line and he looks away to keep from glaring. A rude hand grabs his chin. He stares into the livid face of Dr. Solomon. The older man has to step on his balls of his feet to stare Joey in the eyes, but the doc manages it quiet well. Solomon narrows his eyes and steps back.
"I'm familiar with your story. Your sister volunteers quite a bit in this ward with some of the younger patients. I honestly can't see how the two of you are related. How someone *that* intelligent could claim someone like you for..."
Joey turns away from the rants of the diminutive doctor. One of his rare vacations from work and he went to visit his sister. Okay from that point. Had come to hospital, got lost for like the millionth time, and ran into... Well that's the kicker, isn't it? Who and what exactly *had* he run into? Some weird kid running pellmell away from some creepy guy. Okay, had run into weird kid. Weird kid with the *really* intense look.
Again, such a weird kid! Short and slender, the top of his head (not including the spikes of hair) barely reached Joey's shoulder. And that hair... Wild spikes of raven's wing and cardinal's crest flaring back and away from his face, canary yellow bangs lacing through the black and red spikes and framing his narrowed wine-colored eyes. (A feather duster must have exploded on his head.) His face had been dominated by those wine-colored eyes. Fierce and desperate and violently denying the fear that also swam in those depths. He hadn't *looked* crazy.
So Joey had let go of him. And ran to pull off the four or so burly male nurses that forced the weird kid to the floor. And had generally put up a very nice stink when they drug him off and took the weird kid away.
"...dangerous to himself and other people. Not to mention..."
Damn. Solomon's still speaking. Can't really pay attention, so might as well fake it.
"Are you listening, Joseph!?"
Eh, heh, need to practice that "faking it" part a bit more.
Joey crosses his arms across his chest and glares down at the small doctor glaring up. "What's the big deal? So some kid gets out of his padded room and your cronies have to rough him up? If that's how things work, maybe Serenity shouldn't be volunteering here that often."
Solomon valiantly suppresses a growl. He shoves his spectacles back to their proper perch on the bridge of his nose. Takes a deep breath. Holds. Releases. Still pissed, but better able to deal with it now. "Yuugi Motou is a very disturbed young man. He is schizophrenic with possible multiple personalities. He suffers catatonic periods at times. In order to make any progress with his treatment, he *must* remain on his medicines and--"
"Woah, woah, doc. Small words, please. Preferably with less than a dozen syllables."
"Yuugi Motou is very sick. His version of reality is very different from your's and mine and could easily get him killed outside of this hospital. Young Motou is one of those rare people who doesn't come across as mentally ill to most people. That makes him dangerous to himself and other people. Not intentionally. I don't think he'd do anything to hurt anyone who honestly didn't deserve it. It's just..."
"What? So he thinks he's Napoleon. Big deal." Joey backed away from Dr. Solomon. He nudged the bag of books next to his feet without noticing he was doing so. Oh. Gotta get those to sis. She'll like the Braille. "No reason to gang up on him."
"Actually, Mr. Wheeler, he thinks that he's an ancient Egyptian pharaoh possessing the body of Yuugi Motou. He insists that Yuugi is dead. And that despite having the same appearance, blood type, and DNA of Yuugi Motou, he is *not* Yuugi Motou."
"Put your foot any further in your mouth, Joseph, and you'll need a partial enema to trim your toenails."
Dark. Dark in the room. Dark in my mind. How many people gripe about the *lack* of voices in their head? My fault Yuugi died. But... Dr. Solomon told me that *I* was Yuugi Motou. Solomon is wise man, can even be trusted to some small extent... But how far can I trust a man who's tried to heal me, but keeps me prisoner? What sort of trust? How many mountains of salt?
My fault Yuugi is dead.
But... maybe *I* am Yuugi.
My own fault I'm dead?
Who's the crazy one when the extra voice in your head becomes the only voice period? When the figment of the mind is the only mind left? I was supposed to be the figment of Yuugi's mind. I was supposed to protect the little one. That's why I'm here, right? I must atone. I can't remember how I failed him... Only this terrible emptiness. So now the voice in the darkness has become the only voice at all in this fragile body.