A/N: This has actually been floating around my DeviantART gallery, and I decided to go ahead and publish it here! For the original publication, go to Shadow-of-Burakku's account.

Content warning: Gun violence, attempted murder, mutilation.

Falling Inside The Black

Numb.

Yeah...that's what I feel.

But...why is it so dark? I can hardly see...

"Do you really want to see?"

Oh god...that voice again. Why must it follow me? What compels it to tell me such horrible things?

"I can help you, if you wish."

No.

As though the voice knew his true wish, vision returned; not blindingly, but enough to see his surroundings.

Brick walls encased his space, leaning to create what he knew was a tunnel. Lead pipes hung just above him, dripping though he couldn't hear it or smell what the liquid was. The final piece of the puzzle was the decay of everything around him.

A sewer...why the hell am I in a sewer?

"You know why, Bridge Man."

If he could, he would have flinched at the little nickname the voice game him. To him, it was an insult, a painful reminder of his homelessness.

Even worse, the voice was right. He really did know, but didn't want to remember. Not because he was homeless, but because of a worse tragedy.

"Oh, you poor thing... Here, let me show you something that will help you remember..."

No...please...

"You need to remember."

Without being able to stop, his gaze lowered to what was left of his right hand.

Below the wrist was a mangled mass of flesh that still oozed with fresh blood, random bits of bone jutting out like fence posts after a tornado.

A white flash blinded him for an instant, a resounding bang echoing in his skull only a fraction of a second later. In his mind, the moment when his hand was damaged reenacted in slow motion.

"Do you also not remember the reason?"

No! Don't take me there!

"The reason you lost your hand?"

Please... Don't take me there...

A flash of coral-red hair, curious yet seductive emerald eyes, glossy pink lips -

STOP IT!

"Stop what?"

JUST STOP IT!

"Oh, this... Very well. Your wish is my command, my good sir."

As though it were a mere lamp, his vision was turned off. Now, the darkness made it worse, the mental images clearest against the blackness.

"What's wrong, Bridge Man? You look like you've seen a ghost! The movie too much for your frail mind, perhaps?"

Shut up...

"Pardon?"

Just shut up and leave me alone...

"Where's the fun in that, may I ask?"

All you do is torment me, tell me horrors I don't wish to remember.

"Don't say such hurtful things! Especially since I have helped you in the past...and given you warnings which you ignored without a second thought. Why, this very predicament is the direct result of you ignoring my helpfulness!"

Liar...

"Oh? I didn't tell you to keep your distance with that woman? I never mentioned her suspicious 'acts of courtesy'? I failed to bring to your attention the fact that you've repeatedly overstepped your limits?"

Why do you even give a damn? It's my life, not yours.

"Are you really so sure of that, Bridge Man?"

Flashes of the same woman - no...not the same. Younger...a teenager with the same physical characteristics, violins...lessons...a kiss...

Then, a scene in a bar-like setting, a man standing in front of the teenager, now older. He holds a gun, barrel aimed straight at...

Oh, god...this is...not again...

The man pulled the trigger, a resounding bang shook the room, then shattering of resin, like a flower vase, followed by splintering of wood.

Everything from the wrist down was broken, shattered on the floor and glinting like broken glass around a violin, which was splintered in two, several strings snapped.

What the hell...?

"I lived the same life, Bridge Man. Made the same mistakes. Endured the same lies. All I wanted for you was to remain free, to avoid being ensnared in such devastating traps. But you ignored me, Bridge Man...you lost your freedom."

I...

"Don't worry, I understand... After all, how could you have known that you and I were the same?"

But...

"Rest assured, friend, for I have a solution to remedy this. Now, it's not a permanent solution by any means, but I promise it will take care of your predicament."

Almost on cue, some of the numbness went away. Not completely, but enough for him to regain control of his body.

Wait... I'm standing? I don't remember standing up... Is the sewer tunnel even big enough for me to stand? I don't remember...

Blinking several times and shaking his head, he looked around at the surrounding blackness. A glint of bright red caught his attention and he looked down. Frowning at the realization that he was now donning his old work clothes he had prior to losing his job eons ago, feeling the light blue buttons on his pristine white shirt and shiny silver belt buckle...until he noticed the source of the red light.

Raising his right arm carefully, a sense of horror on his face, his gaze was unwillingly locked with the glowing red eye of the black thing covering the remains of his hand. It mimicked a right hand by appearance, but tendrils sprouted from the wrist anchoring the black mass to his forearm up to his elbow, and metallic claws slid like sheaths from the fingertips. As he stared into the ruby eye resting beside the knuckle of his index finger, a strange humming melody began to fill his mind, as if somehow trying to soothe him.

"Don't worry, friend. She only means to help."

Taken off-guard by how close the voice was, how it suddenly sounded as though it were behind him instead of staying in his mind.

"My, you do startle easily," teased another voice, female this time, which seemed to originate from the ruby eye. Unlike the male voice, she didn't seem to carry any malice in her tone, only curious amusement.

The first voice giggled, a high-pitched sound that grated against his nerves to let off sparks of wary uncertainty. "I knew you'd like her!"

He lowered his right arm back to its original position and tried to turn...until he realized that he couldn't move his legs. "About that solution..."

"Ah, yes! So you're interested in listening this time?"

"I'll listen to what you have to say, then I'll think it over and decide if it really is the best course of action for me. After all, 'listening' and 'doing', though oftentimes linked, are not the same thing."

"Ahaha! Clever response! But wit aside... This solution I have is quite simple. So simple, in fact, it would be quite boring to just explain it to you."

He nearly flinched when he felt a hand place itself on his shoulder, and though he felt a face lean in almost next to his ear, he couldn't quite bring himself to look at the face of the voice who, until now, had only ever been inside his head.

"Let's make it a little more interesting by showing you the solution, shall we?"

Vision flashing back to the bar, the man lay on the floor, a growing puddle of red beneath him. Looking up at the teenager, who seemed to have been thrown back against the wall at some point, trembled too badly to stand up. Closer to her now, and though she had her left arm raised in self-defense, crystalline tears could be seen flowing freely from frightened emerald eyes. Then -

He couldn't stand to see more. Shaking his head once, determination propelled him to turn his head and look at the owner of the voice.

It was himself. About a decade younger, with three violent scars slashed across his face, but it was a near perfect reflection. As he stared in shock, a wry grin spread across his twin's face.

"Striking resemblance, if I do say so myself."

Terror swept over him, a zing of electricity flying down his spine as a crow with blood-red eyes fluttered across his vision. "I...I can't do that..."

The twin nodded. "Figured you'd say that. Well, how about this..." He leaned in closer, and as he did so, the other yanked his eyes away, intimidated by his presence. "Why don't I do it for you? After all, I've got the experience, and nobody else has to know."

"You can't... She doesn't deserve that..."

"Now now, don't feed yourself such lies. Besides, I haven't gotten to the best part of this plan."

He felt the hand on his shoulder tighten its grip, the other hand digging into his back and, as the pain spread, all sense of self-control melted away.

"You won't remember a thing after it's all done."