unwelcome
prompt: Philip x Clarence
The blood was cloudy, curled around her head like a halo, Philip's tear-filled eyes barely able to make out her face, pressed into the cement brutally, crushed and crimson like the rest of her.
"Y-you..." he stammered out, his back hitting the wall as he moved backward. Inside the small closet, he turned, tugging on the handle of the door behind him so that it closed with enough force to stick. "I...I killed her?"
"Come on, monkey, you didn't actually think she was going to help you...did you?" Clarence scoffed. "Idiot as always. Why'd I have to get stuck in your head? Of all the people in this shithole..."
Philip could feel his heart beating, rapid in his chest, angry against the inside of his ribcage. He could see her through the vent in the door, one eyeball popped out of its socket, nose cracked sideways, red hair sticky with blood. He felt like puking. There wasn't anybody...not another human in this entire world who had seen what he did...who was living what he was. The cursed virus was stuck in his head, gaining more and more control every day...
"You want my body..." Philip muttered. "You wanted it for yourself, you psycho! Quit messing with me! Get out of my fucking head!" His head hit the wall, arms spread, knocking over the shelf beside him, jars filled with god-knows-what clattering to the floor beside him. The case began to topple, and suddenly he was falling, eyes glitching from red to black to vision and out again. The case fell on his legs, his skull cracking when it hit the ground, the hard cement a cold comfort under his back. He could see things from the corner of his eyes...strange mixtures, scalpels...
"Where'd you be without me, honestly? I saved you, monkey, don't tell me you're not even a little bit grateful."
"Of course I'm not grateful," Philip replied. "Get out of my head, Clarence!"
"Just when I've made myself cozy..." Clarence retorted, Philip's eyes shutting. "Would if I could, monkey, really. Honest, swear on the Tuurngait."
Philip's hand had already grabbed for the scalpel, feeling it against the inside of his dead wrist, sharp and glinting under the fluorescent lightbulbs. "Hey, come on, you don't wanna do that," Clarence said, cautiously. "Monkey, come on, drop it."
"Don't you ever shut up?" Philip asked.
"You're going to kill yourself over a woman? All these movies must've gotten to ya." Clarence's voice rasped. "Come on, you got me. Alive and kickin', right where you're supposed to be."
"I should be with my father," Philip muttered, but his fingers were forcing themselves open, and within seconds, the scalpel fell with a tiny clang onto the cement beside him. He stared at the ceiling, breathless, hands twitching as he tried to steady his vision. "So...tired."
"Ya can't give up now...still gotta find me a body. You're the one who said you wanted me out, monkey, so hurry up and do something useful for once."
Philip would never admit that the nuisance was a welcome comfort in all the silence and chaos of this place.
"Where's my personal cyanide capsule?" He asked sarcastically, pulling his legs out from under the fallen metal shelf, then the other.
"There we go, up and at 'em." Clarence snorted.