Author's notes: Hello everyone, sorry for the lack of content in the past few days, I've had many duties to attend to and still, in fact, do. Despite it, I would at least like to start this new story of mine for all of you who have grown fond of my horror stories.

This is an idea I had for a while, but only now did I get a burst of inspiration that significantly fleshed it out, gave it direction and a clear progression. I hope you like this story, and if you do, be sure to leave some feedback, I would be happy to have some. Without further ado, here it is.

DISTURBANCES IN MY MIND

Prologue

Approximately a week after the Sanatorium Incident.

An inconspicuous building, one that the public passes by regularly but pays no attention to. No reason to halt and observe a rundown apartment building, gray and dull like fog in the morning. In their defense, even those with knowledge of what transpires behind those graffiti covered walls have nothing to relay. Once or twice a week a vagrant who took a needle for help comes around to veil themselves in darkness and filth. No tenants to take note of any transgressions, no landlords to claim ownership of the unprofitable establishment.

It's pure chance that, at this hour in the afternoon, one blue quilled individual was inside the derelict block.

He was there incognito, none of his friends knew of his whereabouts nor did the passersby notice when he slipped by into an adjoining alleyway. It didn't matter how he got inside, but rather, what brought him there in the first place.

Sonic was leaning against the wall of a bathroom, a communal one by the looks of it. It was tiled all the way to the ceiling, the small white tiles now devoid of its glint as a layer of grime stuck to them. The filth was everywhere, dirt and moss taking refuge in between the tiles. The pipes were rusted and clogged, eliminating the bathroom's sole purpose. It would have been completely dark were it not for a couple of dimly lit lights, shining a sickly yellow color. It felt so disjointed, disconnected from the rest of the world, a place floating in an endless void.

"My, how low you have stooped! The hero of all the nations, trembling amid the muck of some junkie infested bathroom."

The voice, Sonic knew it too well. It was an imitation, a perfect replica of his best friend's voice. Even the physical form was correct, with its round, childlike appearance of a two tailed fox, albeit mismatched with a malicious grin reveling in his pain.

Something happened back there, a week ago. Oh, it was supposed to be a simple fight against Eggman, the evil genius with a taste for limitless power. He supposed that he should have known that something was off with the fact that the mad doctor got holed up in that abandoned facility. Bright white light, paint peeling off the walls, mold… the place would drive anyone away unless they were desperate… or just plain sick in the head. The azure hedgehog is convinced he should have left, followed his gut. The place was lurking with hidden horrors, all laid beyond a certain threshold. Unfortunately, he listened to his gut far too late, and despite barely going over that threshold, he became afflicted by… the memories are hard to process, he wishes not to recall them, all allied parties agreed not to say a word about the Sanatorium Incident again.

They must not know about this, he thought. They only had him to rely on, after all.

It doesn't matter how it came to this… all that matters is that he's incapacitated. He feels its symptoms. His head feels light, throbbing with a dull, but strong pain. His vigorous body lost its color, his extremities sore, trembling with fever. The skin around his veins was dark purple, like a dying flower. In his abdomen he felt as if seams were opening up inside him, like his flesh was being torn apart into twisted and bloody chunks. He hears the sounds of his muscles ripping apart, or at least that's what he felt like. The azure hedgehog could cope with that, the physical symptoms came periodically but didn't linger for long, not when he, by pure accident, discovered which medication alleviated him of them.

Yet even evading the brunt of it couldn't drive away the horrid demon that was holed up in his head. The aforementioned body of a child fox, a doppelganger of the adoptive brother he loves so dearly… that was the wretched, ceaseless manifestation of the demon within. It desecrated the image of Miles Prower deliberately, certainly to intensify the terror. This rancid spawn spewed out words of doubt, hatred, and contempt. It tortured him, tampered with the inner workings of his brain to etch its slimy darkness and further the blue hedgehog's illness.

"Oh, what would those friends of yours think if they saw you here?" slyly taunted the demon, "Bet that would push you off that pedestal you put yourself on into a pit of long, sharp spikes."

"Oh shut up!" sternly said the hedgehog, sick of how the entity massacred his brother's voice, "You don't know my friends and you sure as hell don't know me!"

The demon merely smirked at his outburst, gloating over his frail physique.

"I know you won't be able to keep this a secret," he said in a growly tone, "Especially since I can be easily mistaken with that whiny little freakshow of yours. Really, with the way he's all mushy, that ugly little pipsqueak is a walking corpse at this point, why do you even bother to keep him alive?"

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Sonic shouted, his bloodshot eyes staring furiously at the demon, "You won't get away with what you said! You take his looks and now you call him a freak?! My little bro's the toughest kid I know, you hear?!"

The demon just let out a disappointed sign and turned his back to Sonic. The azure speedster couldn't tell what aggravated him more, his taunts or his silence.

"You know," the demon suddenly spoke, glancing around the desolate bathroom, "This is just the sort of place you should get used to. All miserable and gloomy to fucking hell and back. It's not like you can go anywhere else after you get outed as a dangerous schizophrenic with a voice in your head."

"They WON'T find out," uttered Sonic with determination, or perhaps with persistent denial, "Not until I make sure you're gone out of my head."

"Have you even looked in the mirror, you idiot. Do you know how obviously messed up you even are?" asked the demon, annoyed by Sonic's insistence on being spiteful, "Besides, how do you plan on doing that. Go back there to the place where we first merged? Oh, perhaps you'll be desperate enough to ask that good doctor of yours for help? Oh, I'm soooo sure he will absolutely not use this as an opportunity to gain superiority!"

Sonic was getting sick from… everything. With what meagre will he had, he pushed himself off of the cold, sullied tiles, barely able to contain the wobbliness of his legs. He was breathing heavily and sharply, barely combating the fatigue and the agony of his condition. He moved like a rotting corpse risen from the dead, dragging one arm along the tiled, but craggy wall.

"There's got… to be… a medicine cabinet… in here," he said to himself, exasperated.

The demon merely followed with his gaze, the usually blue warm eyes of the fox were now cold as ice, his unyielding gaze feeling prickly under Sonic's skin.

"You won't be able to hide me from the world forever, even someone with heavy mental retardation can see that," 'Tails' snidely claimed, "Your nemesis will have to attack soon and pull you out of your hobo den, one way or another. Everyone will come flocking around you, begging for your help. Someone is bound to notice your feathers are all ruffled, and when they do… well, let's just say that curiosity killed the cat."

"…You're a monster," spurted out Sonic through gritted teeth. He was moving away from the lights, relying only on touch to find the cabinet.

Apart from the audible breaths and abnormal heart beats, the bathroom was silent for a few seconds. Then, the silence was broken, invaded by more words of mockery.

"Pffft, that's all you had to say?!" the demon laughed hysterically, "You're such a pathetic little blue bitch. Hiding behind that cocky grin of yours… and people actually believe your act?! No wonder you're their only hope, you're the only thing keeping them from accidentally falling into a manhole and drowning in their own collective crap."

Sonic was more than repulsed by his highly disturbing, violent remarks. It made his blood boil, his face scrunched up in disgust. It was no surprise that he felt relieved the moment he felt a box like object extending from the wall. Bingo, the medicine cabinet was sure to have something to get him back on his feet, and most importantly shut that thing up, if only for a few minutes. He grabbed what he could and made his way back to the light, hoping he found what he was looking for.

"It's only going to be worse from here, you know," the demon spoke stoically "You may try to silence me, but I'll always come back, and when I do, you bet your skinny ass I won't be so merciful as now."

"You know, you make a lot of predictions about how I'll fail," reciprocated Sonic, "What are you, some unmistakable prophet?"

Sonic got back to the light, tripping on his own foot and falling flat on the ground. The bottles of medication he hoarded up in his arms all scattered around the floor, several bottles opening to spill their contents out. Most of the things he gathered were pretty much of no use to the supposed addicts, but for Sonic, one pile of spilled over pills in a puddle of syrup was just what he was looking for.

"What you call a prophet is nothing more than someone who can think rationally, but I didn't expect you to understand anyways."

Sonic scooped a few of the tablets and popped them right into his mouth. He rolled on his back, waiting in anticipation for the pills to take effect. He closed his eyes, hoping for the pain to end, for it to be all over. His fists were clenched as his stomach felt as if it was burning up.

He opened his eyes slowly when he felt the agony gradually going away. He massaged his head, stroking his ruffled, messed up quills, letting out sighs of relief. Lethargy still lingered within him, and his head felt a bit dull, but he got through the gist of this situation. It was only a matter of sneaking back out. If anyone asks, he just went out for a run and lost track of time.

He wondered what he could do to avoid it all. His nightmare took the form of his best friend, and that means it's going to try to alienate him from Tails, get him to lash out at him for something he doesn't deserve.

The voice in his head must have some sort of weakness, he thought. There had to be a cure, not some temporary half-assed solution. He wondered if he should tell his friends after all, but it seemed wrong, somehow. Maybe it was the thing's doing, trying to cast doubt onto him, or maybe he really would harm himself more letting other people worry about him 24/7. If there's one thing Sonic hated the most, it's being sick. He was, undeniably, just that, but others would just make him feel even sicker. No, he had to endure this, for everyone's sake. He just wondered what sacrifices he would have to make if he was going to live like that.

He was merely at the beginning of a long, strenuous battle, that much he was certain of.