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Sleepless
by a true Elsewhere and Mizu
shell@wishing-blue.net, tokiya_ensui@yahoo.com


Prologue: In the Shadows

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There were voices. From silent and wispy voices that whispered like a sweet caress on a lover's cheek to loud and angry voices, screaming, pounding out heated commands to him.

Indeed, there were many voices.

Come here, they would say, deep and ominous.

Come here… They lashed out to him, trying to grab hold of all that he was.

Come here and stay with us forever.

He stood, a figure unable to camouflage himself within the abyss of gray shadows, listening to the voices. Voices he'd heard since the day poison tried to invade his mind as it did his body.

Come here… They prompted him again, urging him towards them. He had grown weary of their repetitive request.

"I'll think about it," he replied, smirking. The voices faded away until he was engulfed by silence that was eerie yet delightful. That seemed to hold them off for a while, he thought. Really, he didn't know why the voices called out for him in such a manner; all he truly wanted was some quiet time—some quiet time to wait for a visitor.

"Really now, I'm flattered," a voice cut through the choking stillness, sharp and piercing. "You didn't have to dismiss them just for me. I don't mind observers during our intimate conversations."

"I didn't do that for you. I was getting a headache," he bit out with contempt, disgusted at the fact that he would even think he would do something, let alone anything for him. "Don't make yourself too happy. You're the only person in this dark forsaken place that has more wit than a rock to talk to around here and one does get bored talking to voices that only know how to say come."

The voice laughed harshly. "So how long has it been? Two? Three years?"

"Three years, two months, seven days, seventeen hours, six minutes, and twenty-six seconds," he said with another smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

The voice laughed again, voice steely. "I'm glad to know you've been making use of your time." A familiar smirk. "After all, what can you do when you're stuck in limbo? Count?"

He scowled. "And whose fault was that?"

"It was your choice to do what you did. Don't be childish. Besides, don't you just adore our conversations together? I find them intriguing. I find you intriguing." The dark voice, his words, his phrases brushed up his spine in a cold chill. He glared into the shadows.

"Go throw yourself into a dung hill, you piece of trash," he said angrily, turning his back to the voice.

But the voice did not heed his wishes.

It never did.

"But I do find you intriguing. We are one and the same. Our likeness intrigues me greatly," the voice said smoothly, like milk tracing the edge of a cup.

"I don't like you, so how could I be like you? That'd be self-hate," he said succinctly, narrowing his eyes.

He could hear it then, the laughter, harsh and cynical, resonating in the air. "But self-hate can be such a…useful tool."

"What?"

"It can drive you to do certain…things. It is an excellent source to fuel your ambition."

He paused, silent for a moment.

"You see, we are the same. I can feel it coiling around in you, around your soul, as it was always supposed to. Let it go. Let all of it go."

"Let…it go?" He seemed uncertain as he stared at the shadow that got even thicker.

"Yes, yes. Let it go…" The voice pressed. It was growing weaker, fading away as darkness crept in and around him more and more. He was going to be alone again, he had realized; the voice was leaving him. He didn't know what to think of that. It was merely a whisper before he heard it again.

"Let it go and find yourself."