"You never could keep your mouth shut."
Tyler Durden sits, glaring at you across the bedroom, his face shrouded in shadow and his neck covered in blood.
He's not real he's not real, he's not real
You should move to stop him when he stands and approaches the tiny bed you share with Marla now, the dilapidated blanket covered in dust and the once cheerful design faded to a gruesome charicature of what once was. You should launch yourself across the space between the two of you to block Marla's sleeping form when he moves to brush his fingers lightly across her cheek. You should force him away, out of the room, out of the city, out of your goddamned mind.
But you can't. He's Tyler Durden
You force your eyes closed and can manage a whisper—"Tyler..." --Not even a whisper, it could pass for a sigh, light as air and dissipating the moment after it's said.
"Yes?" you jump, eyes opening to see him; he's in front of you now. He's smiling and it looks like he's about to eat you alive from the inside out. And you can barely breathe because he's back and he should be dead and it's pointless to struggle anymore because you don't know how much more you can take.
Now he's making you look at him, his kiss-scarred hand grabbing at your chin and forcing your gaze up from the floor. He's still smiling like he's got all the secrets of the world—and he probably does. He leans forward; face inches away from yours and his fingers tighten on your jaw, digging in violently. It hurts, and you can't breathe because there are voices roaring in your head, telling you to run, run, run, but you can't because this is when your heart bursts in your throat, and the pain just burns so slow, and it's the first time in your life that you've ever seen in color.
"Get. Off." You grind out, your entire body paralyzed from the novelty of being touched by someone that didn't exist, never existed and is in all rights imaginary. Your mind shouldn't register the heady smell of tobacco, the sound of his breathing, or the beads of sweat that roll slowly down from his shaven scalp, leaving behind glossy trails on his face.
Tyler leans closer, eyes still locked on yours somehow; your vision of him gas gone blurry and you can't focus on his face anymore. Instead, you look at his ear.
" Now why would you say such a hurtful thing?" he's practically purring. "When I've done everything I can think of to help you. You were the one who ruined everything. The world would've been a utopia. Our utopia. Look at me" he growls, shaking your head roughly and making your eyes water.
" How do you fucking live with yourself?" Tyler hisses He's so close that every sound sends chills down your spine, the venom-laced words make you flinch back. "This could've been the greatest thing to happen to humankind. The oppressed, the poor, the rich, the proud, they would've been the same. For one moment of their goddamned lives they would have been equal. Nobody would have had anything. Who you are would have been everything."
He shoves you back hard. You tumble through the air and hit the bedroom wall, shoulder exploding in pain as it hits it with a sickening thud. It's absolute agony, and as you slide slowly to the floor you revel in every moment of it. It's your drug, and Tyler is the only one that deals it strong enough.
"You really fucked it up." Tyler sighs, but your brain is caught up and numb in the ecstasy. You can't tell which way is up and you can't keep your eyes open anymore.
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You wake up. Marla doesn't ask about the bruises that dot your jaw, each oval marked by the whorls of fingerprints (Your fingerprints). She stares and she closes her eyes as though to block out the sight of your abused face, but she doesn't ask questions. She knows better than that by now.