The Drums of Chaos

A/N: Alright folks. This is the story that I have finally decided to post after reading the works of other people for most of my post-teenage life. Without their guiding candle I'd probably be addicted to something much worse. This is to them.

Standard Disclaimers: Blah Blah Blah...I don't own. You can sue, but I'll kill you after the hearing and take the check back.

"Think of me as your better half. Your rage! Your pride! Your selfish ways! They give me form and substance! Your anger serves only to feed me. I am you! All that is yours is rightfully mine! And mine it will be…"

-The Dark Prince, Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones


The pain was unbearable.

It was an incessant pain. A mental pain. A pain that ceased to be pain at all, and, instead, took form in the epitome of human agony and suffering.

"Stop it…Stop it…STOP IT!!!" His voice sounded reedy and pathetically weak in his ears.

How long had this voice haunted his subconscious? Tormented him with these temptations and sins that started to look so appealing…and…desirable…

Yes. That was it. Desire. The unremitting hunger for the appeasement of the flesh.

Why was he trying to resist? All he had to do was just indulge a little…

"NO!" He screamed as a fresh wave of pain assaulted his senses.

"I won't give you what you want!" Even now his fortitude and resolve sounded too strict; too demanding. What was it if he just gave in? What harm would there be?

"You won't have what you want! I swear! I won't give in!" His voice cracked and strained.

"Want? You speak in purely mortal terms, weakling. What I want I take. And what I take is never noticed until it is most needed."

That voice again…

That unrelenting voice that both mocked and coaxed.

"You and your pride. It's a shame really. I had high hopes for you. For me. But now…it seems that you, and now I, are saddled with that most irritating of human foibles…conscience."

"Who are you?" He lifted his head in an almost beggarly way of asking for mercy.

"Who am I? Ha...Ha…HA! HA! YOU dare ask that question? YOU of all people should know who I am. I am the manifestation of everything that you have longed for. Power. Glory. Renown. Might. Majesty. All that I ask and want, all that YOU ask and want can be yours. If only it wasn't for that conscience that plagues you…"

Confusion. "What are you talking about?" His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "I don't want these things."

"Keep on lying to yourself, you fool. Child. Imbecile. Do you realize how pathetically weak that sounded? Yes you do. Even YOU, of all people, know how weak you truly are! You should thank whatever deity you worship that I showed up! Ha! You call yourself a king? What kind of king would look like you do now?"

How long had this voice tormented him? Years it seemed. It was like the voice was part of him. When had this voice come? It didn't matter now. What mattered was how to get RID of-

"You get rid of me? You make me laugh. You are truly stupider than you look. How do you get rid of something that you don't even understand? Something you can't even begin to understand"

What? The voice knew what he was saying? Could read his mind? How was this possi-

"Possible? Because YOU made it possible asshole."

Anger now. Anger now consumed him. This sepulcher-like voice DARED assault him. Him.

"How dare you! Out! Get Out! You have no right!" his rage spilled out. "You've haunted my mind for months! But this is the end! Do you hear me?! STOP TALKING TO ME!!!!!"

He paused, breathing hard. This mental torture, this hideous toying was wearing him down. It wasn't always as bad as this. Some days there was only an echo of a mocking laugh hidden somewhere in the corridors of his mind. Other days…he could barely stand against the mind-rape that continuously battered him.

He collapsed in exhaustion and…fear. Not just fear. He wasn't just afraid. He was terrified. Terrified of the consequences that would occur should he allow this…thing to conquer him

But…but yet…

Why did these sensations feel so grossly…familiar? As if part of him wanted this monste-

"Part of you wants it because it IS part of you. Did that thought ever occur to you? Of course not. You're too busy trying to preserve your humanity and, it disgusts me to say the word, conscience."

"Out," He croaked, "you don't have a right to be here." He took a long shaky breath.

"GET…OUT…OF…MY…MIIIIINNNDD!!!!!!"

Then he collapsed. It took too much strength to argue. He wouldn't win anyway. It hurt to even think now.

"Right? Might I remind you that YOU created me? You. In your pride and arrogance, you fathomed my creation, and now you complain? I should think you'd be grateful. I AM you. Don't you realize that? I am everything that you have ever wanted to be, and yet were too weak to attain! I admit it. You were a genius in creating me. Yet you cursed me at the same time. Can you believe how painful it is to be saddled by you? And yet YOU complain? You truly are a fool. Go on. Get angry. You rage only continuously feeds me."

What? This evil haunting voice was him?

…No impossible. It couldn't be. These desires…these lusts…came from him?

The impact of this information was too much. The weeks of strain and stress, partly from the battlefield, but mostly from the brutality of this…voice…had left him weak and pitiably useless. He was in no condition, mentally or physically, to stand against this specter.

"Who are you?" Complete exhaustion rang in every tone of his voice now. Submission, and complete, utter defeat reigned supreme.

"Think of me as your better half. Your rage! Your pride! They give me form and substance! You don't know how good it feels to exist do you?! Well, I'll teach you how. I'll teach you how a king is SUPPOSED to look like. I expect great things from you Kenshin Himura. I pray that you won't disappoint me. For your sake, and for mine, you had better pray too."

Defeat. The specter had won. He had been defeated by an inhuman voice that haunted him.

And yet…if what the specter said was true, then he was haunting himself.

In all of history, humanity's greatest enemy has not been nature, or fate, or destiny, or even other humans. Humanity's greatest enemy has been the monster that lurks in each and every one of us, and seeks to seize the opportunity to tear loose from the prison house that we endeavor to keep it in. In this eternal conflict that rages within us we have two potentially deadly and difficult choices. We can seek to control the monster, or we can let it consume us. That monster is us. Ourselves.

Kenshin Himura, Hiko Seijirou VII crouched in dust before the conqueror of his soul. Himself.

"By the way, you can call me Battousai"