In celebration of Fall Semester being over, have a Soul Eater fic I turned in for one of my finals. Insane!Soul veryslightly OOC, written in the style of Gilman's "The Yellow Wall-Paper."

lmao this is so OOC!Soul it hurts but fuck it I had fun writing it

.

They Walk Among Us

I was handed this journal weeks ago, when Maka and Black*Star and Tsubaki dropped me off here. The lady with the too wide smile had given it to me while rattling off rules and the typical daily schedule. She had pretty green eyes—nowhere near as pretty as Maka's, I had noted out loud much to her chagrin and embarrassment, I later found out.

I was told I was supposed to write all my thought during my stay down in this little book. I had asked if it was like a diary, and the lady wrinkled her nose in what she probably thought was a cute movement, babbling on about how they didn't like to call it that here, it was more a thought journal, a record of our progress than anything else. Oni told her that was stupid, and I told him to shut it.

Maka had given me the look that told me she was three seconds away from hitting me. I always get blamed for Oni's inability to keep his mouth shut, but she always ignores my pouts. She never, ever believed me when I told her that I couldn't control him.

These people actually thought I was going to keep a diary, of all things. As if I would sink to doing something so lame! Yet here I am, scrawling away in this pretentious leather-bound book at who knows what time in the morning.

The first thing they did was take away my watch and alarm clock. They said time wasn't important here. They said writing my experiences were. They said it was for science.

I felt like telling them they could keep their science, I wanted my music, but I didn't. Oni, as per usual, had no qualms about telling them precisely where they could put their science.

Lights out was a couple hours ago, so I know it is some time after ten o'clock. It's like being back in school again. Here, they tell me when I sleep, when and what I eat, where I go and when I can go there, who is allowed to talk to me. Back in school, at least I could choose who to I wanted to talk to. I mostly talked to Maka, though.

I hadn't known Oni back then. I met him while I was with Maka. She was the one who gave him his name, since he couldn't remember it when we met him. It's actually a pretty sad story, the one where we got to know Oni. I like telling it; Oni does too. But Maka always gets really quiet and sad when Oni and I tag team the recounting, and no matter what I try, any funny facial expressions or wild arm movements, she avoids my eye.

We stopped telling the story eventually. Our friends were getting tired of hearing it anyway, I think. Oni was getting really obnoxious about it, ruining all the fun.

Maka insists he's bad for me, that I need to stop hanging around him. I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to get into an argument with her, but I could have told her she had no reason to be so jealous. Oni was just a little wild, that's all. Blake was wild too, and I didn't tell her she had to stop hanging out with him.

Oni whispers to me that I must get in bed; the night watch is coming through. It must be around three in the morning then.

After our group session, where we were forced to talk about the happiest moment in our lives, Oni and I snuck away from our guides. Oni wanted to explore the rest of the building, the upper floors from which we were forbidden. I had nothing better to do, so I went along with him.

He could have reminded me that it was visitor day today, and that Maka would be coming to see me. I sometimes wonder why she still does. It seems like she's only visiting because she feels obligated.

I can tell she's uncomfortable. Half the time we're either sitting in silence or she's babbling on about her students at the Academy.

We're drifting apart, and I can't tell if it's her fault or mine. Oni says that maybe it's for the best; after all she was the one who put us in here.

That made me angry; they say that my anger problems are part of the reason Maka asked them to help me. I think I lost control and threw things at him. The pen, the ink well, the single ceramic cup I was allowed, this cursed journal. Anything I could get my hands on was arsenal to my spontaneous onslaught.

Of course, that brought them running. As they restrained me, telling me I needed to calm down, Oni smirked smugly at him from his prim seat on my bed.

I wanted to kill him.

I would have killed him.

I didn't though.

Just at the moment I was wrenching myself free from their grasp, Maka showed up in my doorway, wearing the saddest look I have ever seen. It was more dejected than the one she wore when her father died.

I wanted to hug her, but she flinched back when I made to move toward her. I hung limply in the colorless, blurred figures' hold after that.

Though she was the one with the tears in her eyes, she swam in and out of focus as she moved slowly, so slowly, so cautiously toward me.

Her lovely voice came through garbled and distorted.

Her gentle voice almost drowned out by Oni's twisted, high-pitched cackle.

Her confident voice dwarfed by someone's incomprehensible yelling.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I returned to consciousness, I was alone—except for Oni. He was always there, always with me, no matter where I went.

Well, not always. Sometimes he disappeared for a couple hours. He wouldn't tell me where he would go, but when he was gone I was taken over by a strange combination of relief and an emptiness that I couldn't fill.

Maka helped, though. My times with her, when Oni wasn't there, those were the happiest times of my life. But then Oni showed up again, and she grew more and more distant.

She thought our relationship was unhealthy. It was the main reason why I'm here. She thought I needed help. Maka didn't want Oni to join me, but she didn't argue her point too much, either.

I think she finally understood that he and I were inseparable.

We've been here a couple of months now. Maka still comes every visiting day. She seems more distraught and exhausted every time I see her. I don't know why; she won't tell me.

She's very thoughtful and polite, though, always asking about Oni. I know she doesn't like him very much. When I answer her, telling her that Oni is doing fine, though he's bored, her forehead wrinkles and her lower lip trembles a little.

Oni whispers to me that she wants me to answer, "Who's Oni?" or some variant thereof. I look at him in concern.

I couldn't forget Oni! Never!

I don't know why Maka insists I do. It's completely unfair!

Oni is my best friend! Oni is the only one who understands! He's the only one who knows the truth.

The longer I'm here, the more I realize that everyone else is ignorant, living in the dark of what is really going on. I tried to tell Maka that today when I saw her. I leaned in, and hesitantly, she mimicked me.

Whispering and keeping an eye out for creepers, I tried to tell her, to warn her. She needed to be careful, to keep an watch for anyone who seems to be…off.

Even now, I feel things moving in the shadows cast by the flickering candle I'm writing by. I can feel them creeping closer to me.

"Off?" she asked, obviously concerned. I thought that was good, that she understood what I was trying to tell her. I thought she knew the kind of peril we were all in.

Our lives are in danger. Every single one of us. Oni had been warning about the dangers we were surrounded by since before Maka and Blake and Sue put us here in this place. I never took Oni seriously, though. It was hard to believe him when my days were full of basketball and sunshine.

Now that I'm here though, I'm beginning to understand.

Their power was wearing off. While they used to have faces before, now they were just humanoid figures blurred around the edges. They lurk outside my door. I can see them, pacing back and forth, their silhouettes malformed and hunched through the frosted glass on my door.

Maka's expression quickly became less concerned and more horrified as I attempted to explain this to her, my voice low and fast. She kept trying to get me to slow down, to just take a couple of deep breaths. She told me that I didn't know what I was talking about, that those were the doctors and nurses and orderlies I was describing. They were nice people, she trusted them, knew them. They had families and loved ones.

Oni scoffed behind me. Maka didn't believe a single word I said, just like he told me she wouldn't. Distraught, I gave one desperate attempt to make her understand, to drive it into her stubborn head that those were not people. They were faceless—how could they be people?

Maybe she couldn't see it because of some evil plan of theirs, but they were evil creatures. I told her that Oni had told me all about them. He had learned about them from people who had met them and survived. There weren't many, he said, but there were lucky ones.

He nods behind me, glancing over his shoulder at the door. The figures are growing larger, Oni tells me. He's giggling excitedly, as though this is a moment he's been waiting for a long time.

I need to write more quickly. I need to write this information down before they get me. Maybe it will be useful to any they let see this journal.

They're evil creatures, twisted by their vices. They're here to devour our souls, to condemn us forever to the burning pits below our feet. I know too much, Oni tells me, and now they're after me.

At first they appear to be like us, but beneath the smiling façade, a faceless monstrosity lurks. The more you know about them, the clearer their true form becomes. I hope you find this, Maka. Those lovely people with their lovely families and lovely loved ones, they are imposters.

They are monsters.

They're here for my soul and yours too most likely. I know you put me in here for what you believed was my own good. You didn't know this was their nest. I didn't know, either. Until I saw the first faceless monster.

Oni knew. But neither of us listened to him. We should have, Maka. I'm sorry.

Now I know the truth.

Now I believe him.

Now I'm taking my last stand.