If it is in normal style, then it is speech.
If it is in italics, then it is thought.
If it is in bold, then it is the individual's natural tongue.
If it is underlined, then it is Devil.
Chapter Two: From The Inside
"What's wrong with you?"
Hwoarang looked away from the television and at Baek, who was leaning over the back of the couch he was sitting on. He put on the blankest face possible, and looked away, still flicking channels, the remote nestled in his left hand, "Nothing."
"Don't say that to me. You're worried, aren't you?"
"Not really."
"Stop lying."
"No, really, she can die in there and I wouldn't care. Honestly. Not one bit."
The elder Korean paused, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked to his left at his student, "No one's that cold."
The 13-year-old immediately stood up and left the lounge room, unaware of his mentor following him. He opened the front door, with the intent of leaving for a while, maybe go for a bike ride, or stroll up to the park and sit by himself; but was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder. He rested a hand on the door frame. His sienna eyes narrowed as he looked over his shoulder, and at his mentor – his voice harsh, "Let go of me."
"It's alright to be worried…"
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze trailing from his face to the large hand. His face slipped from blank to concerned, unknowingly, and subconsciously. His right hand, that was resting on the door frame, curled slightly into a fist… His voice, small, "You… should've seen her, in that instant… when I found her. She was so weak. She couldn't move. …She looked so scared… How did the wounds get there? What if… What if she tried to kill herself…?"
Doo San finally smiled, glad that his student, the closest person he had to a child of his own, acknowledged his feelings at the moment, taking them from the knew Hwoarang couldn't be that cold. It wasn't like him, though that was how he desperately tried to make himself. It was his defensive mechanism, particularly in the early days of meeting someone. He remembered back when three of the boys in his Tae Kwon Do class tried to be friends with him, and how cold the redhead was, until he finally gave in. And when he first arrived at the dojang himself.
The 40-year-old pulled him closer towards him in an act of comfort, "I don't think that's what happened."
"How can someone feel that way…?"
Not even in the darkest time of his life did he feel that way. Such thoughts were farfetched and unusual to him. He never understood it, though he was curious as to why, but would never want to make such an effort to bring himself down to that level. The key, in his opinion, to survive, to live, was to stay strong. Strength is power. Power is everything.
"It depends on what happens in that person's life. Razer looks like she's had it rough already, but from what I've seen of her she doesn't seem like the type to do that. Feel that way, maybe, but do it, no. But anyway, why do you care? You don't know her."
His teeth gritted as he pushed past Baek, "You fucking know why…"
Of course. Her vulnerability reminded him of his own. And he hated that.
He scratched his arm and closed the door for the youth, "Sorry. And, don't fucking swear."
This made his student grin a little. He was now standing by the girl's door, peering in, his shadow blocking out the light provided from the room. She was curled up on her right side, her head almost falling off the pillow. Her face was scrunched up in what appeared to be pain, fear and nightmare, and one of her hands was resting near her face, which was half clenched. In her sleep she had managed to kick down the covers to her waist.
He frowned a little and slipped inside, but only to pull them back up to her shoulder and keep her warm. It was somewhat chilly for this time of year, after all, and he couldn't have her freeze, and then get blamed by her when she woke up for having this cold. That is, if she was like that, which she may have been.
Baek was watching from where he stood at the front door, smiling to himself. The younger Korean may have been noticeably impacted by finding this girl in the state he did, but even so, it was still unusual to see him tending to her around the clock. Hwoarang thought that his mentor didn't see him slipping in every ten minutes over the past two days while she slept, but he was wrong. The 40-year-old had noted his student putting a hand to her forehead to make sure she didn't have a temperature, checking her pulse, readjusting the covers, flipping the ceiling fan on and off if the need arose, and just sitting there in the room so that if she did wake up, she wouldn't be alone.
It was that last gesture that had intrigued Doo San the most.
"Do you think she'll be alright?" The youth had whispered to his master timidly, shying away from the room.
He nodded, a firm 'mhmm' escaping from the inside, before turning away, his student following, leaving her alone.
"Who are you…?"
Razer's green eyes darted around in fear. It felt as though her back was pressed up against a wall, as though she was in a corner, hiding from the beast lording over her. It did not feel as though she was asleep, but this nightmare felt as real as anything she could've imagined. It scared her as much as her Father did.
Don't you know?
A brief shake of the head was the thing's answer. They were almost identical. They were almost completely identical. The same hair, the same body, the same face, the same muscles, the same clothes, the same everything… Though there were a few differences that screamed evil.
Two massive, black feathered wings were adorned on the thing's form, and they were pretty large, though they had not been stretched out to full wing span. Coming from her temples were two long horns, and they looked pretty damn sharp. There was a blood red gem in the middle of her forehead, and she had very long claws on her hands. There were black tattoos going all over her body in symmetrical patterns, and something she noticed was the primary tattoo from her hip, where all of this seemed to stem from.
She had that now too, somehow.
The thing had walked up directly in front of her, looking down on her. Athane trembled as she stared deep into the blood red eyes, as though they themselves had an answer to the question that was running through her mind at a million miles per hour. After a few seconds, the 12-year-old covered her mouth, the answer now discovered.
Nice to see that you finally understand.
"You're me," She said from behind her hand.
The Her-But-Not-Her thing's mouth twitched into a dark smirk. She squinted to see fangs, and shivered, her hand falling back into her lap.
"But… how…?"
It is quite simple really.
"Then explain it."
It is immaterial.
"…Please?"
A dark laugh emitted as the Her-But-Not-Her person turned away, her arms out and stretching in freedom. She span in a small circle, still laughing darkly, arms still stretched out, and spoke, her voice heaving with everything negative, You will not get anywhere with kind 'please's and 'thank you's. Rise. Grab me by the throat and shake the answer out of me. Force me to bend to your will. Attack me.
Razer watched as she stopped and lowered her arms. Red eyes met her green ones from over the thing's shoulder.
Become the devil inside.
Instead of rising to meet the thing's challenge, she had shrunk further back into the metaphorical wall, further into the metaphorical corner, clearly afraid. Why was it being so cryptic? Couldn't it just say straight out what it was? Why taunt her further and make her even more afraid? She was already scared beyond all belief. There was no need to push it any further.
How do you feel? The thing asked, turning back to face the individual wholly, smirking. Her bare feet slid over the metaphorical floor, making no sound as they touched it, Are you afraid? Or are you angry? What about sad?
No response. She felt all three emotions at the moment. Fear, because of this thing. Anger, because this thing did not tell her what it was, or why she was using her own form. Despair, because of losing her loving Mother, the only one she felt she would ever truly love in return, and because she now did not know what to do with her life.
Oh, all of them. I see.
"But I didn't say or think anything!"
The thing smirked and grabbed her by her hair, the bittersweet cry striking her like a blade, If I am you, then surely I know your feelings like the back of my hand. I master your fear, and choose the strength of it. The anger flows in between my fingers, always accessible, and with a swift clench of my hand, it is accumulated and focused. The sadness is every breath you take, through me, and it is inescapable.
Red eyes focused on the water that began to leak from the forest green eyes she had been forced to see out of for twelve years. The smirk widened, and her fangs seemingly glistened in the dark as she taunted the youth, shovelling more fear into her system, Are those tears I see sliding down your tanned cheeks? Are you crying, Athane?
"No," She replied weakly, trembling, trying to look away, knowing she had lied, but still trying to be brave and strong.
The smirk morphed into a scowl. The grip in her hair tightened, and Razer's head was thrown back, slamming into the metaphorical wall, agony drumming through her mind. The thing stood up, power exerting from her, and turned away, How pathetic. I had to wind up with a useless host… You weak and worthless monster.
The last sentence struck her as hard as her Father's backhands, particularly the 'w' words. A choked sob rose from the back of her throat. Emotions continued to swirl uphill from the inside, and as the silence echoed, she briefly pondered where she was at the moment. Wasn't she in a dojang in South Korea or something?
We are in your mind. You are asleep.
"Oh…"
Silence occurred. The 12-year-old had many questions, but had no idea where to begin.
Finally, she spoke, "How long have you been inside me…?"
Your entire life. It was not until two days ago was I freed, but in an effort to keep myself, and unfortunately you as well, alive, I had to slaughter your Father by any means necessary, and fly us both to somewhere safe. It was night time and I could not see well, and furthermore I had to land. We ended up here, alive and broken.
"Why did you choose me…?"
I did not choose you. A parent of yours requested me, and passed it onto you when you were born.
Dad.
Razer scowled and bit out quietly, "Who are you…?"
The beast turned around, red eyes alive and shining darkly, and took heavy steps towards her, I am the voice in the night, the undying fear, the remnants of light. I am the mysterious unknown, the bittersweet temptation, the terrible agony. I am the endless nightmare, the crafty deceiver, the ever so sinister… I am the maker, the traitor, and the destroyer. I am the end… and I shall never die. The thought of me is eternal, in the bleeding hearts of men, in their narcissism, obsessions and lust. Nothing shall ever destroy me… Nothing.
She was directly in front of her host now, summoning images, You know nothing. You, and every other pitiable mortal in existence. All of you. You are all so small, so insignificant, so… pathetic. Yet I know all of you. I know every detail of your miserable existence. The lost little girl, followed by fists of sightless fury from her black past…
Her Father now loomed down on her, striking her hard with his fist. She could barely see her Mother in the background.
The lonely little boy, so like you, trying to be strong, helplessly watching his bitter heart freeze…
That memory faded away. An image of Hwoarang appeared in the place, along with the look on his face when she proclaimed that she should be tossed away.
The caring middle-aged man, still haunted by the dead eyes of his Father from all those years ago…
Baek's form popped up, just like when she first woke up.
The thing was squatting before her, eyes staring into her own, And me, forever in your soul, tormenting you with my darkness.
She shivered.
Some may call me Abaddon. Some may call me Beelzebul. Some may call me Lucifer, or Satan. My name is irrelevant, yet in any form, it sends a thousand chills down humanity's spine. When your hope dies, when your light expires, you are left with nothing but darkness… nothing but me.
Athane shrieked as a clawed hand grasped her throat tightly. The beast got right up in her face, eyes locked in the forest, her coming words venomous, lethal, and firm, I am the demon from the inside. I am the Devil within.