Weeks passed, the shadow-figure was getting more solid by the day, it did not stick it's appendage into Tweek's abdomen again, but it lurked closer than before. He couldn't sleep as it would be on the ceiling above his bed, watching him when he laid down.
It was finally going to happen though, he had drawn it out this time, colored it a few times experimentally, always when the figure wasn't around. He kept his thoughts guarded. He never actively thought about what he was doing. He blared music to drown out everything. The music didn't always work, but it was effective when used in conjunction with his coffee.
One more night, that's all it would be. His problems would never be completely gone, but he could fix them for a while, until the next time. His mind was the enemy here, he knew, logically, there was only one thing that could ever truly fix him. But he did not allow himself to dwell on that fact, it would come when it came.
For now, he had to survive the rest of the school day. With a thermos full of coffee and Disturbed blaring into his ears, Tweek walked to school. It was getting colder, but he didn't mind as snow fell around him. Dressed all in black with his fingerless gloves, it would be easy to mistake him for one of the goth clique. His blond hair though, contrasted, his icey eyes also made it seem more that he was not of the earthly plane.
He knew he unsettled people, for the most part, he enjoyed doing so. It kept them from trying to get close, it kept everyone at a comfortable distance. And so, he was alone, except for what went on in his head. He preferred it that way.
Until Mike. He would see the vampire-acting guy at his parents coffee shop after school with his friends and occasionally, by himself there before school. In the mornings, it was too busy for Tweek to see why Mike was bothering being there, he usually went to Denny's with his friends. In the afternoons, when Tweek would sit there or help out with customers, Mike and his friends would be there and order coffees.
Mike wouldn't speak to him, unless he was ordering a coffee, but Tweek could feel him watching or would catch him staring and the teen would quickly look away.
He couldn't be bothered to ask him why though, he was focused on the coming night. He had all the supplies he needed, but he had to finish his school work. Even as he sat in class, the shadow figure stood in the corner by the door. It wasn't whispering, not right then, it was just looking at him. He could feel it. It hadn't touched him again, but he was still paranoid about it doing so. When class ended, he made sure he was in the midst of the throng of students leaving. It followed him through the halls to his next class and stood in the back of the classroom, Tweek could hear whispers beginning, indistinct. He was twitching again, but he turned the music up louder, drowning the whispers, that was; until they became screams. He couldn't decipher everything that he swore he heard, but what he could, it wasn't okay, it never was. Death, agony, twisted shit he couldn't fathom. The figure was no longer in the background, it was right beside him by lunch. It would almost touch him, then stop inches from his hair or face. By the last class of the day, Tweek was a twitching mess. His music was helping only slightly and his coffee had run out by lunch.
It would still be hours before he could enact his plan. He went to Tweek Bros and got himself two coffees to do his homework with. Chances were though, he would get a few more coffees before returning home. The figure was crouching on the table as Tweek did his work, he could feel it and Mike staring. He did his best to ignore everything but his work though. His twitching was impeding his progress though. And so he went home earlier than he planned and went up to his room. Once there he gathered and set out all the supplies he would need. After that, he stripped off his shirt and jacket, putting the shirt in the dirty clothes and extracting a new short sleeved shirt from the closet which he place on his bed with his pajama pants. Next, he carefully shaved and disinfected the area of his forearm that the new piece was going. It was going to wrap around from the middle of his forearm to just below the crease of his arm. This time, it depicted the shadowy figure with its outstretched appendage, reaching, the hand-like appendage large and imposing, it was disproportionate to the arm-like appendage, it appeared to be growing larger, the tips of the "fingers" were a dark bloody color, the figure itself was the darkest black money could buy, with the "eyes" the lightest shade of white with a silvery gray around the edges. Around the figure words were scrawled messily, atop each other, backwards, upside down, the things the figure would say, the things he thought, but barely any of his skin in the area was uncovered. He was in considerable pain, but he wasn't finished yet. He disinfected his arm and let it air dry, taking a break for a minute for some coffee. His twitches had subsided in the first hour.
He colored in the uncovered bits of skin with that same, dark bloody red.
When he finally finished, he was ravenous. He washed his arm and applied aquaphor, going down the stairs newly dressed in a t-shirt and his pajama pants. Everything was quiet for once. It was nice. He turned on the coffee pot and heated the frozen burritos he adored. He sat alone, in the faintly lit kitchen with his burritos and coffee. His arm ached, that was irritating, but he felt considerably better than he had in quite a while.
He was self-medicating. He knew how dangerous that could be. But he was always careful.
His mind would do it again, and again, and again. Like a broken record that skips too many times, repeating the same tired lines until it's hit or adjusted. It was only a matter of time before it happened again. How long would it be before then? Did it matter?
Tweek finished his breakfast and washed his dishes, going back up the stairs for an exhausted nap. His alarm woke him a short two hours later and he got ready for the school day, careful of his newest addition. He gazed into the mirror, ice blue eyes gazed back. He smiled and his reflection smiled back.