Low
Dr Spleenmeister
Are you in there?
Breathing slow and steady, intelligent eyes unblinking, unseeing, unaware, staring at the Baker-Miller pink wall in front of you. Baker-Miller pink, designed to suppress violent urges, designed to suppress you.
Because you are violent, aren't you?
No, don't look away from me. Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not here. You can't deny my existence because it was you who created me.
No, don't shake your head in denial, you know it's true. You created me the day you helped to kill your first innocent. Oh it wasn't your finger that pulled the trigger, I know that; but it was you who stood by and did nothing while that poor woman had her brains splattered all over the wall of the house.
Funny how it's still pink and grey, no matter what color shell it's in, right?
Now calm down, I know it wasn't personal, I know you had nothing against her kind in general, it was just orders right?
Shoot to kill, shoot on sight, don't stop shooting until you can't hear the discharge of the weapons over your own screaming.
You never really stopped screaming did you?
Baby blue, don't go nowhere
I'm right beside you
"Murdock?"
You turn your head to face him and I almost laugh at the ease with which you hide your affliction, practiced in the deception that you are.
You're a better con man than he is.
You smile disarmingly at him and he doesn't stand a chance.
Clambering into the wheelchair he has brought with him, you do your best to continue to refuse to acknowledge me, issuing a stream of gibberish to hide the shadows that are still behind your eyes.
That's okay. I'll be here when you get back.
Just like always.