33. The Parallels (Oath of Darkness)

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             -It will rain all this night and we will sleep transfixed by the dark water as our blood runs through our fragile life.
—Bukowski

                             *    *    *

   The early September sunlight filtered down through the verdant canopy of trees, and the air was warm and humid; indicating an approaching thunderstorm. Leaves crunched under their boots, breaking the silence only punctuated by random birdsong. Thorn held Inky's hand as they made their way down the overgrown nature trail. It's been over a year since the last time we were out here, Thorn reminded himself. The ancient stone archway still stood; in defiance of the passing of seasons.
"Look, Thorn- it's still here," Inky remarked, staring at the old sigils engraved into the stone. "Of course- I told you, nobody ever comes out here, and technically it's on my property- so I'm fairly sure that the locals want nothing to do with it." He watched as Inky walked around the archway to where the panel of mirror was located. I remember the day I took you here... How nervous you seemed around me then. All I wanted was for you to see yourself the way I see you.
   He noticed Inky staring at the mirrored glass in contemplation; a slight blush on her face. You can't look away... I want you to watch. She gave him a knowing smile; an acknowledgement of their shared memory, a secret only the two of them would ever know. The mirror was a bit dusty from neglect, and Inky brushed away the accumulated layer of cobwebs and debris. "Help me carry this back, damn thing is awkward," she complained, glancing at the mirror in irritation.
   Thorn stared at her in amusement, then assisted her in carrying the mirror back through the forest to Inky's car. On the way back, Inky tripped over a protruding tree root, and they almost dropped the mirror- which would have caused it to shatter amongst the green landscape surrounding them. He swore loudly, helping her set the mirror down beside the tree that instigated their issue. Fuck- that could have been really bad- are you okay, Inky? Once he was sure that she hadn't injured herself, Thorn feeling mildly embarrassed by his overreaction, he resumed the awkward task of extracting the mirror from the woods. Soon enough, they arrived at her car, and he helped her with the door while she wrapped the glass in an old drop-canvas sheet.
   Inky sat in the driver's seat; car keys in her hand and a distracted expression on her face. Then she started laughing, while Thorn stared at her in confusion. "What the hell is so damn funny, Inky? You could have gotten hurt- and we could have broken the mirror- which we need for your plan," he told her, feeling rather annoyed now. It had been a long day- hell, a long week- once Inky had moved in with him, Thorn assumed everything would be easier; less stressful in some way. Their work schedules were opposite- Inky still working late nights- apparently the Gallery was determined to make her last week there as difficult as possible.
"It's just- I've never heard you swear so much- or that- colorfully- it was kind of hilarious, you have to admit," she replied, attempting to appear serious and failing miserably. He looked away, unsure how to respond. "It's not that funny," he insisted, closing the car door a bit too aggressively. The glass in the window rattled, and Inky rolled her eyes at him, starting the car. "Actually it was- nobody in the world swears like that- half of the shit you said wasn't even an actual curse word- and here I thought I was dyslexic," she joked, lighting up a cigarette. Thorn didn't want to start an argument- he hadn't been sleeping well the past week- and was beginning to get aggravated by normally inconsequential things.
"Never mind- I guess next time I'll have to watch my language," he answered dejectedly, staring out the open window of the car. "What did. half of that even mean?" she persisted, and Thorn wished she'd just forget the whole thing happened. "It doesn't matter- would you just drop it, I was just concerned about you hurting yourself in the woods. Maybe I shouldn't be," he replied coldly; taking the cigarette from her hand. Thorn noticed Inky looking on in shock as he blew smoke out the window- "what the hell, Thorn- you don't even smoke," she complained. "Well maybe I should take up smoking," he answered sarcastically, returning the cigarette. He stared back at her in irritation; an odd, unwelcome feeling he'd never had towards her before.
"You can have one if you really want," Inky offered quietly, handing him the open pack of small cigarettes. Thorn had always found it amusing she even smoked, because the brand that Inky preferred were half the size of a regular cigarette. However, he found himself suddenly frustrated with her- almost overwhelmingly so. "Fuck off," he muttered, wishing she would just leave him alone. Where did that thought come from? That definitely wasn't MY thought, was it? Now Thorn was completely confused- not only had he been sleeping terribly lately- but when he did manage to get some sleep, the dreams he had were beyond horrific- gory; utterly violent and disturbingly evil. He felt as if the abomination was getting stronger again; fueled by its bloodlust and desire to torment.
"Fuck off? How about fuck YOU," Inky retorted, angrily stubbing out the end of her cigarette in the car's overflowing ashtray. The vehicle's motor also rattled in a protest or an agreement- then the engine died. "I wish you would," Thorn answered- wondering where the unfamiliar thoughts were coming from. It has been a while since anything of that nature has happened- I wonder if I did something to offend her somehow... Inky stared back in shock, grey eyes wide and unblinking. Thorn noticed she looked somewhat hurt by what he'd said- her expression made it obvious. He didn't know how to apologize to her- perhaps he was also partially unsure if she'd believe him.
They sat in awkward silence together- both too unsure how to respond without further aggravating the other. I'm sorry, Inky. I didn't really mean to say that. Something about the way she'd replied to him reminded him of an unpleasant past memory- which his mind negatively responded to. Above them, the sky had gotten darker and the clouds abundant with rain. Another storm was fast approaching over the mainland, only miles away from the rocky shoreline.
"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, the nervousness apparent in her tone. Her eyes seemed to be unable to focus on anything in particular- the expression they held was an uncomfortable combination of fear, confusion, and realization. Thorn couldn't stop himself from staring back at her- even as aggravated as he'd been with her only moments before- hell, he wasn't even sure what had happened. We've never really had an argument like this before, he thought. "Are you- still afraid of me or something?" Thorn asked her, refusing to look away. Inky shot him a hurt look -as though he'd insulted her.
"Of course I'm not afraid of you- after all this time, why would I be?" Her eyes stared back in a silent challenge. "It's been almost a month since we were down in the dark together- and after the sleep paralysis episode, I thought that maybe you were afraid of me again. I wanted you to move in with me after the art show- so you could see that I'm not..." Thorn stopped mid-sentence; unable to explain what was on his mind cohesively. It was a peculiar, unfamiliar feeling- lately, he hadn't felt like himself.
"I had a bad dream that I- killed you, Inky. Your blood was on my hands, my knife. You know that I would never do anything like that, right? I was so upset that you'd think less of me for saying it- even if it was only a dream." He watched as Inky looked away; the fear gone from her expression leaving only confusion- an internal conflict. She reached out her hand to his; her voice quietly apologetic- "I- didn't intend on you thinking that- you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry if I made it seem that way- after everything you've done for me." Thorn looked out the window again, once more feeling like himself. What just happened to me?
He carefully held Inky's wrist, wanting to reassure her that he never intended for her to feel this way either. Staring absently at the approaching storm over the dark, abysmal depths of the sea, Thorn realized that the abomination must be stopped- so that their shared hell would finally end. It was all a matter of time... Otherwise, he didn't know how else to offer a sacrifice- certainly he and Inky should no longer be subjected to the pain. Thorn had recently noticed more scars on Inky- contrasting against her pale skin; long, erratic slices or small half-moon shapes- perhaps she'd been trying to get him back from the Red Void for longer than he'd originally thought.
Perhaps it's time again, he thought. Someone else who actually deserves the torture of the void- will be easy enough to find again. He felt nothing at this dark, cold realization, pure apathy- nothing more or less. Inky was the only one he ever felt any real emotion towards- she'd stayed despite the knowledge of the darkness in his mind; the violent acts he'd committed. "I don't know if I can stop thinking like this," Thorn admitted. "My mind has been -wrong- for such a long time, even before the Red Void, before I met you. I'm trying to suppress it, but I don't think that it's possible." He met her eyes guiltily, almost unwilling to admit he felt this way.
All I want is for everything to be over- we deserve better than the fearful, traumatic lives we've led... We deserve peace. Right now, it would be easy for either of them to run away; although both would regret it forever. Besides- they'd already tried to escape from the abomination- this was the final plan to eradicate its existence; break the cycle. Inky's voice broke through his thoughts; soft and hesitant. "So do you think that you're going to kill somebody again?" Thorn shrugged, shaking his head. "Honestly? I don't know. Maybe- probably. Like I said, I don't know how long I can force myself to be- normal. I know what I am, Inky. I can try to deny it all I want, deny it to you- but I don't think there's anything anyone can do to change it."
He hated himself for this confession- because inside he knew; being a psychopath was an irreversible condition. "I would understand if you didn't want to be around me anymore, but I'm glad that you decided to stay." He heard Inky sigh in frustration- "I already told you- I'm not going anywhere. I've already had to- clean up crime scenes for you, hide what I already know. It really doesn't matter to me anymore if you have to kill someone -just- try to find someone that actually deserves it. I don't even know what morals are anymore, I'm just trying my best to help you." Her voice slightly wavered, and she held on tightly to his hand. "I'm sorry that I upset you earlier," she continued.
Thorn laughed, although he found nothing to be particularly humorous. "I wasn't really even upset about that- I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I just- sometimes I still wonder if anyone even wants to be around me after knowing all I've done. How can anyone even stand to look at me- I'm a murderer. A psychopath. That doesn't negate how I feel about you, though. No matter what happens, the dark places my mind wanders- I'll always protect you, even from myself. I love you too much to let anything happen to you." Thorn stared at her, hoping she'd understand- this was the truth; it always had been. They were the parallels.
Inky was silent for a few minutes- Thorn wondered if he'd have been better off staying silent. "Do you want to get out of here? I have to figure out what's up with my car- but it looks like it's going to rain," she finally said, seeming caught off-guard by his honesty. "Where did you want to go?" He watched as she slowly surveyed their surroundings. "Maybe somewhere within walking distance? I mean, I have to go back to my studio tomorrow and sign some paperwork and get the sculpture- so we can get that damn thing out of our lives once and for all."
Thorn gave her a cautious smile. "I can rent a car I guess, I'm pretty sure your car might be out of commission for a while. It didn't sound great the last few times you've been driving- I just didn't want to worry you." She laughed in reply- "Yeah- it's an old bastard shitmobile- but it's gotten me where I've needed to go. I appreciate you trying to help me though." Inky stared back at him, meeting his eyes this time.
They left the car outside of the dark building, walking down the dusty pathway together. Above, the sky had grown more ominous- a deep slate color streaked with a rather putrid yellow tone. Thorn still held Inky's hand possessively, almost as though she'd run away- like the first night he'd spoken to her. No- I don't think you'll run away- although I am afraid of losing you. We've gotten this far now; it's too late to go back. Slowly, the rain started to fall, small droplets that barely dampened the dry soil below. Inky looked upwards into the sky; a small, shy smile on her face.
"Remember the last time we were out in the storm?" Her voice was quiet, nearly inaudible; however- Thorn knew just by her expression exactly what she was thinking about. "Of course. How could I ever forget- that was one of the best nights of my life- especially after what had taken place earlier. I had to- destroy myself- to replace that feeling. When I'm with you, though- I don't feel as dead inside. I feel- completely alive." He stared back at Inky; the emotions he felt no longer seeming like a curse. This was the truth- no matter how he'd tried to deny what he'd felt before. He felt tired- running away from everything sounded easy enough- though by now, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. Besides- he didn't want to, not with Inky here. Thorn never imagined he'd be able to trust anyone- until he'd met her.
"Have you been experiencing sleep paralysis again?" Inky's voice, concern and anxiety tinging her words. Thorn nodded in regret- he hadn't wanted to discuss his unconscious torment as of late. The abomination- I can see it in my dreams; that red nightmare... The same familiar, taunting voice in my mind. It wants me to be alone, it wants to erase everything we've done so far. I can't stand it when I have this odd, volatile feeling- I'm losing control again, day by day. How much more until I finally lose myself, become the monster that everyone has always expected me to be?
The rain had gotten heavier, a wet grey blanket that darkened the pavement. As they continued walking, Thorn noticed how uncomfortable Inky looked- the rain had soaked her thin jacket and droplets of water clung to her skin and hair, and she gave him a helpless shrug. "I feel like a drowned rat," she laughed, attempting to brush away the raindrops. "We can find somewhere to get out of the rain," Thorn answered, stopping momentarily to give Inky his jacket. The rain didn't really bother him much, and she always seemed to be cold.
Thunder rolled overhead, and a bright streak of lightning illuminated the dark sky. The storm was heading inland, cold winds blowing in from the roiling sea. Inky moved closer to him, shivering slightly. It hadn't been this cold in some time, and summer's end was fast approaching like an unwanted guest. Oil-slick rainbows stuck to the black leather of Inky's boots as they walked, giving them an iridescent, otherworldly shine. She looked up at him, grey eyes lit with a strange expression. I would do anything for you when you look at me like that, Thorn thought. He also thought she looked somewhat ridiculous wearing his already oversized jacket, especially as rain-soaked as she already was- however, he kept this thought to himself.
A ways down the road, they found an old, decrepit barn on the side of a condemned property. Thorn supposed it had once been used to house livestock- possibly the same animals that were sent to the slaughterhouse later in life. Inside the barn, the air smelled of musty hay- stale and damp. Thorn noticed Inky making a face of disgust, as if she were second-guessing their temporary shelter. He looked over at her sheepishly, apologizing for the less than ideal location. "Sorry- this place is a bit- disgusting," he commented with a shrug, kicking a rusted tin can away into the darkness.
Above them, the cold September rain poured down onto the barn's rooftop; small trickles of moisture dripping through the cracks in the old wood. Inky visibly shivered, shaking her head in defeat. "At least it's dry in here- for the most part," she said rather unconvincingly. She handed Thorn back his rain-soaked jacket, which he hung on a rusty nail to dry. The lightning flashed suddenly; illuminating the interior of the abandoned structure. Inside the barn were a few assorted lanterns, bulbs shattered and useless; along with a muddy horse trough and some iron horseshoes embedded in the decaying floor. Broken glass was strewn about haphazardly, and Thorn hoped there wasn't anything unpleasant dwelling here.
"Well- I know it's not ideal, but this is going to have to work for the time being," he said dejectedly. He'd hoped they'd be able to find somewhere a little nicer- but the rainstorm had shown up unannounced, as storms usually do. "Work for what?" Inky inquired nervously, staring around the dingy old barn. Thorn wasn't sure how to reply, perhaps this wasn't the best time to initiate something inappropriate. Of course she probably doesn't want to do -that- right now. Stop being such a pervert, he scolded himself. "About our argument earlier- I didn't really mean to tell you to fuck off- I was just- extremely frustrated; in every sense of the word. I want to kill someone again, but not if it makes you feel uncomfortable. I want to be with you more," Thorn admitted, stepping closer to Inky in the small, dusty hallway of the barn.
   "I'm sorry if I haven't been -present- I've just been distracted by my art show, moving- starting my new job. I never meant for you to think that I didn't want to be with you." Inky looked up at him, staring back at him; expression serious with a hint of sadness in her grey eyes. "I've never felt like this about anyone in my life, either, in fact- you're- the first, the only person that I've ever- been with, in... that kind of way," she continued, blushing at her confession. Thorn averted his eyes first this time; feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed.
   Fuck- I never knew that- I mean, you did seem a bit... inexperienced; I just figured you were shy or socially awkward or something. I- haven't really been with that many people either I suppose- guess it goes with the territory of being an unapproachable, psychopathic artist. You, though... Why did YOU even want to be with ME in the first place? You were scared of me, you ran from me, until I forced you to confront me; confront your own fears... Still, despite all of this, you returned. I wonder if you felt the same about me then, too. You let me touch you, and it set my whole world on fire. I love you, Inky. I'm still sorry you had to find out about- everything I've done. I can't believe you still wanted to be with me after all of that.
   Thorn looked over at Inky, who still appeared rather cold and uncomfortable. He helped her climb the ladder into the loft area; the wooden rungs creaking precariously. Inky looked around at the bales of old hay in distaste. "I think I'm allergic to this damn barn," she muttered under her breath. "It should be better up here- maybe a little dusty, but they haven't used this area as storage in years. It's just full of old machinery parts. Maybe we can even find something you can use in your art," Thorn told her. Inky laughed at his suggestion- "ah- always the optimist," she joked; holding onto his hand as he pulled her into the loft. "Are you sure it's structurally sound up here?" she nervously asked, and this time it was his turn to laugh- at her overly-technical language. "Well- I guess we're about to find out," he replied.
   Up in the loft, Inky found a clean black tarpaulin- one of the only things in the loft not disintegrating or covered in dust. Thorn unfolded it in a dry corner of the loft, and above them, the thunder resounded loudly, echoing through the trees outside. Inky shivered, removing her thin, rain-soaked jacket and wringing it out. She still seemed extremely cold and uncomfortable- he knew that she hadn't been very well-prepared for the bad weather.
   "Are you going to be okay?" he asked; suddenly concerned she might get hypothermia. She always seemed to be so cold, although it was only September. She shook her head, an expression of uncertainty on her features. Thorn thought she appeared nervous again; standing there in her soaked clothes with an odd, haunted look in her grey eyes, both defiant and fragile at once. He wished he could do something to make her feel more at ease; although he felt that he might be contributing to her unease. However- there was no point in avoiding the issue- if Inky continued to be stubborn and wear the wet clothes- there was a very good chance she might get sick.
   "I'm not trying to be a creep- hell, I won't even look- but you should probably get out of those wet clothes. I don't want you to get sick, Inky," Thorn insisted quietly. He tried not to stare at her, knowing it would only make the situation worse. Inky decided to heed his warning; turning around to remove the waterlogged clothing. Thorn kept his promise and did not watch her; although he was tempted to turn around and stare- he knew how self-conscious she must be feeling right now. Ever since the start of the day, something had been different between them- Thorn couldn't explain it or even understand it, and wasn't sure he really wanted to acknowledge it.
   The sound of the rain overhead was oddly threatening rather than calming; as if controlled by an ominous, unseen force. Thorn inspected the contents of the loft, discovering a slightly moth-eaten wool horse blanket. "I found this- if you're cold," he suggested, handing it to Inky. "Are you feeling any better?" She nodded unconvincingly, and he could see that she was shaking, face pale and withdrawn. "Inky, you look really pale- I'm worried about you," Thorn admitted, standing by the wall of the loft with his hands in his pockets; attempting to appear nonthreatening. "I'm not going to hurt you, or do anything that you don't want to do. I might be a psychopath- hell, you've seen me at my worst- but I would never put you in a compromising situation unless you allowed it." Thorn was being honest- there was no reason to add any awkwardness to their less than ideal current situation.
   Besides- if Inky wanted to be left alone, he could always stay on the other side of the loft. Instead, she slowly crossed the space to where he was standing; visibly shaking even under the old horse blanket. Thorn himself was actually quite cold and uncomfortable as well, although he was trying to ignore it; he was used to being in a state of constant discomfort; especially after his time in the void. Inky folded her thin arms around him, then stared up at him in surprise.
   "Thorn- if anyone's going to get hypothermia, it's you," she insisted, pulling him closer. Her black hair was tangled and wet; sticking to the side of his neck like seaweed. He sighed, trying to find the right words to say, because there was so much to tell her, and yet he felt as awkward as the day they'd met. However, Inky spoke first, voice soft and apologetic. "I never said that I didn't want you to touch me- sometimes I'm just scared of how intensely I feel- and if I've forced you to feel emotions that you're unable to process. You've been through so much- even whatever you haven't been able to share with me, but I still only want you," she confessed, staring up at him.
   She carefully brushed the wet hair away from his eyes; her hand soft against his face. At this moment, the only feeling Thorn felt was an intense compulsion to keep her safe, no matter the cost; even in regards to his own well-being. He hadn't been sleeping well lately- his dreams plagued with dark visions of death and destruction- which led to him feeling increasingly paranoid and watchful; interrupting his waking hours. It's been so hard to function lately- I don't remember to eat, can't rest- and I don't want you to worry about me so I just hide everything inside so you can't see...
   Thorn had seen terrible things in his dreams; violent, fragmented imagery that relentlessly pursued his thoughts despite his attempts to ignore everything. He'd recently had a horrible nightmare involving himself and Inky; in this unconscious state his mind had conjured up a horrific scenario- somehow he'd ended up stabbing her- blood was everywhere; on his hands, the floor, the blade of his knife. He'd been immensely agitated by this dream; subconsciously interpreting it as a premonition from the abomination- in return, Thorn had begrudgingly cut himself- offering his blood in the hopes Inky would be spared from the constant torment of the Red Void. He'd forgotten about the new injury- noticing Inky staring at the cut while he removed his rain-soaked clothes as well.
   "After the sleep paralysis," he explained, averting his eyes to avoid her look of concern. He didn't want to discuss it- luckily Inky changed the subject. "It's okay, Thorn- you don't have to tell me. Soon we won't have to contend with this hell any longer, and you'll never have to do that to yourself again. There will always be worse monsters that you can- take it out on," she told him, an unfamiliar dark expression in her eyes. Thorn didn't quite know what to make of this, and smiled slightly; imagining what it would be like if Inky actually witnessed the violence he was capable of. She'd never actually seen him in the act of murder, and he was certain she'd change her mind about him if she only knew. "Are you condoning murder now?" he asked simply, hearing the dark intent that was obvious in his voice. Run now, while it's not too late, Inky...
   She chose not to reply; her answer kept hidden away- the only opinion that meant anything to him. Instead, Inky moved closer to him; her cautious demeanor gone, and she silently wrapped the scratchy wool blanket around both of them, sealing out the cold. After a few minutes, she finally spoke. "Honestly- I don't even know anymore. Maybe- what you had to do to those people- they deserved it in some way or another," she insisted, voice quiet yet solemnly resolute. "Does it disgust you when I hurt myself instead?" Thorn asked her, searching her grey eyes for any traces of hesitation or deception. Finding both to be absent, Thorn waited for her response.
   Inky shook her head, "Nothing you've done would disgust me. I know at first- I did find it disturbing, that you killed people, but you had your reasons. You were just trying to protect me, even from yourself. Maybe a part of me always knew- and I tried to deny it, because I wasn't sure how to react. I feel like I keep repeating myself, if only to convince you that- no matter what- I'll be with you." She stared back at him, and Thorn found himself once again at a loss for words- it was as if she'd told him exactly what he'd wanted to hear, and surely this couldn't be reality...
   Inky held both of his hands in hers, and although her skin still felt cold, she no longer complained, only stood facing him in silent thought. Outside, a loud crash broke the monotony of the downpour; followed by a metallic scraping sound- like the hulls of old ships grinding together. This was accompanied by an unpleasant electrical hum- static and eerily familiar. Thorn noticed her hands shaking, and she'd closed her eyes to shut out the fear. "Inky? Inky, it's okay. I'm here," he told her; trying to reassure her. Inky's eyes were blank, dissociative- as if she'd gone into a hypnotic state. "Hey- it's nothing- the void isn't here right now. I think that the lightning must have hit that old oak tree, and there were some piles of scrap metal underneath," Thorn explained, trying to rationalize the strange, unpleasant feeling he'd had as well. Her hands held onto his tightly, as if she were afraid to be left alone.
   He pulled away from her grasp, observing small crescent-moon shapes on his hands her fingernails had left behind. Her breathing was shaky; fearful, and slowly she met his eyes, anxiety etched across her features. She didn't respond to him, merely stood in the loft in silence. The horse-blanket fell to the floor as she sank down against the wall, eyes fixed in a vacant, eerily blank stare.
   "I feel like the abomination knows that it's about to lose, and it's trying to force us apart," Inky told him, her voice soft and nearly inaudible against the noise of the storm outside. Thorn wasn't sure what to say to this- he'd wondered the same thing in the past few days. He sat down next to her, pulling the old wool blanket back up over her pale, freckled shoulders. He noticed small bruises scattered across her legs, and wondered absently if she'd injured herself due to her sleep-deprived state. "You're right- the dream I had, even our argument. It knows that we are stronger together, it wanted us to- destroy each other, or something. It isn't going to win, Inky. I can feel it, too- but I won't let it succeed- we've gone too far for this to end now."
   He tried to sound reassuring in his reply; although he wasn't exactly sure himself. Inky looked up at him, grey eyes shining in the dark- the unshed tears that threatened to spill making her expression profoundly sad. "We have to contain the Red Void- trap the abomination. There has to be some sort of ritual, and it must happen soon.  I don't want you to get trapped in the void again, Thorn. I don't think my mind could take it again." Thorn stared at her solemnly through the darkness. "I won't let it happen again. We're going to fight it together- I promise," he swore- because he'd never been more certain about anything in his life- Thorn realized that yes, he would do anything for Inky; even at the price of his own safety and sanity. He was also nervous- although he tried his best to hide it from her, he was sure she could see through the calm facade.
   "Tomorrow?" she asked simply, meeting his eyes. "Tomorrow. Definitely," Thorn agreed, reminding himself to remain focused, determined and with a singular purpose now. They would face the horrors of the Red Void together, no matter the consequences. I have already sacrificed so much in the name of self-preservation. What harm can it do- even if our plan fails, we tried our damnedest. It was growing late, and Thorn wasn't sure how long it'd been since the last night he'd slept- the sleep paralysis had worsened- accompanying his restless, vividly disturbing nightmares.
   He certainly didn't recall finally falling asleep- especially in the unfamiliar, dusty barn. What sleep he managed to get was fragmented with ominous images, and when the early morning's sunrise crept through the decaying roof; Thorn decided to keep watch until Inky woke up. Thankfully, their clothing had mostly dried, and Thorn folded Inky's pile of all-black garments next to her sleeping figure; cautious to not wake her up too early. He knew her insomnia had also worsened; and it was rare enough she wasn't awake before he was. After a brief moment of contemplating heading to town for coffee- Thorn decided it would be best to wait for Inky. I can't just leave you here- what if you wake up, and I'm gone- you might think something terrible happened...
   "I need some coffee or something," her tired voice broke through his restless thoughts. Thorn smiled to himself- he found it somewhat amusing when she was still half-asleep; eyes unfocused and black hair a mess of disheveled curls. "Let's go into town- there's not a whole lot there but I know a little hole-in-the-wall cafe we can go to, the coffee isn't the best but you'll probably overload it with sugar anyway," he replied; although she consumed an ungodly amount of sugar with her black coffee, Thorn secretly found it endearing. You live off of caffeine, nicotine, and sugar... How are you even functional? he wondered; having rarely witnessed Inky eating anything more substantial than the random things she'd concoct, then forget about in the depths of the refrigerator. Maybe I should make us dinner sometime- that is, if we survive today...
   Inky sat up groggily, the rough woollen blanket partially falling aside, and Thorn pretended that he didn't see anything- although Inky, half-naked, was difficult to ignore. After we defeat the abomination... there will be plenty of time for- that, he reminded himself, pushing aside the distracting and rather inappropriate thoughts regarding himself with Inky. He distractedly descended the rickety wooden ladder so she could get re-dressed in privacy; suddenly feeling mildly embarrassed.
   The walk into town wasn't too far, and once they'd gotten coffee, Thorn walked to the rental car agency- as Inky's car was most likely still inoperable. He drove back up the hill to the dark building, and once they had decided all preparations were in order, they got ready to leave- possibly for the last time. "Well- I guess that this is it. I hope that this works and we don't die or something," Thorn commented, trying to sound casual; nonchalant even- although secretly, he was truly terrified. He despised the abomination and all it was capable of, all that he'd been made accountable for. However, the feelings he had for Inky outweighed the fear; as daunting as it may seem. Thorn waited patiently for Inky at her apartment while she filled out paperwork and retrieved the sculpture of the abomination from its shrouded dwelling. Damn thing sure is heavy, he thought as they hauled it down the staircase.
   The drive to the abandoned warehouse seemed almost painfully long this time around; and Thorn tried to distract himself from his own unwanted contemplations once more. "Are you ready for whatever happens next?" he asked quietly. "I think I have to be," Inky replied, voice slightly hesitant. He stared at her for a moment when they were stopped at a red light- Inky was wearing a blood-red dress that contrasted with her pale skin and dark hair, and Thorn found it difficult to look away.
   I still remember the first day I saw you at the Gallery- how watching you made me feel. Now, I could feel like this forever, staring at you. I still remember- when I started following you. Then one day, before we met- you were sitting by the window, working on your computer. Back then, I had no idea how to introduce myself. What would I even say, if you caught me; or confronted me? I'm following you. I'm stalking you because I'm obsessed with you. I'm trying to protect you. I'm in love with you. Thorn still felt this way, and averted his eyes; realizing he was blatantly staring at her again. I wonder how you'd have reacted to me then... How desperate I must have seemed from an outside perspective. "Inky- by the way, you're interesting- please come home with me and let me prove to you how I really feel- I'm not who you think I am. Let me show you just how much you mean to me." He shook his head at this ridiculous internal dialogue; relieved it'd never transpired that awkwardly.
   I still remember watching you, from what I considered a safe distance- to keep you safe from my limitless destruction; and to keep myself safe from the feelings I was developing for you... I don't want to be safe from that anymore, it was all an illusion. Inky, I remember watching you from that dark corridor, and one day you wore a delicate silver chain around your neck. I watched as you twirled the chain around your finger as you scribbled down notes, and I absently thought about my hands around your thin neck instead- not to hurt you in any way, but to feel your pulse quicken as you stared back into my eyes with no traces of fear; grey into black- and it was then I knew that we were meant to always be together; the parallels.
   Having been in a dissociative state for most of the drive, Thorn parked the car at last, and then assisted Inky in carrying the sculpture through the woods and down into the dark sub-basement chamber. She followed closely behind him, carefully avoiding the loose rocks and broken glass along their path. Once they'd safely made their way down the winding concrete stairwell, Thorn turned off the lantern he carried and switched on the main lighting in the shrine room he'd created for Inky. He set down the heavy, shrouded sculpture, thankful to not be in direct contact with the wretched thing any longer. They painstakingly lit all of the candles, then set up the panel of mirrored glass opposite the botanical church art; the sculpture between them. This was the basis for the trap they'd devised together- the evils of the void contained and reflected back to the abomination.
   The next stage of the plan involved blood- their blood would be spilled one final time; a necessary sacrifice they would share. "We have to- make a sacrifice of blood," he told her; "blood is the third part of the ritual- the binding element." Thorn removed a fresh scalpel from his jacket pocket; admiring its silver glint in the glow of the candlelight. "This will have to do," he muttered to himself, trying not to give Inky any reason for hesitation. Let's just get this over with... He didn't much care for this portion of the plan- though it was integral to their success.
   "What if we can't trap the abomination?" Inky asked in a nervous tone, eyes fixed on the sharp blade. Thorn stared back at her, conflicted thoughts replaced by determination and a final resolve. "We can at least try, it's better than nothing," he remarked somberly. The two of them now stood facing each other; candlelight surrounding them in an ethereal haze. "Hold out your hand," Thorn instructed, and reluctantly, Inky held her right hand out to him. "This isn't going to hurt- much," he reassured her, then took her hand in his. Carefully, he sliced a thin line down the palm of his left hand- the Devil's Hand, anyway- and then a matching line across Inky's hand. She didn't even flinch- oddly enough, she appeared calm, even peaceful for someone who might possibly be about to die.
   Their blood matched Inky's red dress, dripping down through their clasped hands and onto the concrete floor below. This is our blood oath- I promise to always protect you, Inky. I love you more than anything in this miserable world- and I won't allow anything to ever harm you. Around them, the room's atmosphere subtly shifted to something far more ominous- almost indescribably so. Their combined blood had dripped onto the dried flowers, the last catalyst in finalizing their dark ritual. The air was scented with heavy decay; as though some vulgar flower was in bloom. There was a hint of ozone and rusted metal- the combined olfactory experience was unpleasant, even claustrophobic- to say the least. A terrible noise began- first a low humming drone, reminiscent of power lines on a humid day; followed by a piercing whine that could almost be felt rather than heard.
   What is this- pain? I've never experienced this before, in the void. The sound rose to an intensely dreadful cacophony, and Thorn could feel his mind attempting to detach itself from all reality. No- the Red Void no longer holds this power over me, he reminded himself in desperation. It was crucial that they go through with the plan- no matter how terrifying it might seem. The alternative was far worse- and they could possibly both be banished to the void for eternity. He heard Inky's voice in the background- "Thorn? What's wrong?" -and then the room grew cold as everything faded to black.
   From the depths of his mind, Thorn felt as if he were fighting against himself- the only thing keeping him anchored to reality was the feeling of Inky's hand holding his; along with the peculiar sensation of their blood mixing together in some dark, forgotten alchemy. Spiraling into the abyss- this feeling is relentless; unstoppable. I've had control of my mind up until this point- or have I actually lost control all along? Destroy the abomination- do it now and you'll be free forever. NO- no, I can't. Inky. I can't because Inky will die. She can't die.
   All of his thoughts had congealed into a nonsensical mess; disorganized and chaotic, echoing insanity. Indeed; this has to be the doing of the abomination- its final attempts to dissolve his sanity. However, this wasn't enough to distract him from the feeling of Inky's hand holding his tightly, and Thorn held up both of their bloody hands together, proceeding to smear their blood across the horrible, eyeless sculpture-turned-entity. The candlelit glow faded, replaced by hellish crimson light- before everything abruptly went completely dark.
   It was comparable to one of his sleep paralysis episodes- however, even at their absolute worst, they'd never been this utterly horrific and psychologically damaging. This was similar to his time spent in the Red Void- only condensed, refracted, and infinitely worse. Thorn felt as if he were the one who'd been trapped instead; his mind paralyzed and the darkness within untethered and allowed to roam freely and without consequence. In his mind, Thorn saw everything he truly feared becoming his new reality- his own personal hell; carefully constructed for his fate.
   No. I refuse. I'm not going back, I made a promise to Inky. Defiantly, Thorn stood at the dark precipice of his own flawed mind; accepting his many faults and failures yet refusing to fall into a numb, irreversible madness. I'm not doing this all alone this time... Not anymore. Inky is here with me. Suddenly, Thorn realized that this was the undefinable feeling he'd sought after for so many years- not only the feeling of acceptance; but of holding himself accountable for his own actions- and forgiving the person he used to be, long ago. It almost felt like another lifetime ago- and he much preferred the life he and Inky had created with each other- the two parallels; one incomplete without the other.
   "I've already been to hell and back- you can't take anything else away from me!" Thorn heard his own voice- anger giving him clarity and purpose. I am destruction. He used this spark of rage to his own advantage this time- refusing to let his mind be consumed by the unspeakable beings within the void. I am your downfall. Slowly returning to reality, Thorn felt Inky's presence nearby- she was beside him, holding his hand; the two of them standing together in opposition of the hell created by the abomination. Or perhaps, the foul entity itself had been brought into existence as a corruption of someone not unlike them. I am... myself, at last.
   Thorn held Inky's hand as they stared into the void; resolute in the knowledge that soon, they'd be free. He did not wish to look upon the unholy beings who preyed on sanity itself- instead, he watched as their blood slowly dripped into the red hell. "I created you- ABOMINATION!" Inky shouted; giving name and thus lessening power of the grotesque figure. "You are not welcome anymore- you never belonged to this world, and we do NOT belong to you." Such was the power of the creator over their creation- Thorn watched as the red light faded along with the vile, rotten stench of death. The Red Void itself wavered in hesitation, then slowly began to collapse in on itself- presumably returning from whence it originated. He almost couldn't watch as the void folded in on itself- trapped inside the panels of glass.
   Soon, it had taken on the form of a singular droplet of blood- which slowly came to rest on the top of the sculpture, before dissolving into a crack on its surface. A sound similar to the abrupt breaking of glass was the last sign that the Red Void ever truly existed outside their nightmares- and in seconds, it had simply vanished without a trace. We're still alive. The Abomination is gone now, and we won. Thorn stared at Inky in slow realization, an almost reluctant belief. "We did it, Inky. Your plan worked." Inky slowly looked around the room, which had returned to its familiar candlelit glow. "It's finally over, Thorn- we did it together." Her voice was quiet, thoughtful; and she slowly released his hand- which was covered in their shared blood.
   Inky stood in front of him, surrounded by candlelight and flowers- this time, he couldn't help staring at her, because they were actually alive. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, an expression of understanding on her face. He removed her red dress, and this time she didn't avert her eyes self-consciously; instead stared back at him. Thorn looked down at their bloody hands, still somewhat in disbelief that their plan had actually worked. Inky held his hand again, and spoke quietly; as though attempting to recognize their new reality as well. "I think it worked- we've stopped the Red Void." Thorn pulled her closer, the blood from his cut hand transferring to her pale skin. They were both in silent contemplation, trying to convince themselves that this was indeed reality.
   Thorn noticed Inky was the one who was staring this time; wearing only red lace undergarments, their blood, and a small smile on her face. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, staring down at the ground. He felt almost nervous to hear her reply. Now that the void was gone- what would happen between the two of them? "The night I first saw you- when we met. The horrific Red Dream you promised me you would help me control, the Abomination you helped me lock away. It's been a part of my life now for so long, I don't even know what it feels like to- have a somewhat 'normal' existence..." Inky confessed quietly. Thorn agreed, "I'd wanted to talk to you for so long before that night- I just wasn't sure how to- what to say. For me, my life has never been normal, only darkness and pain. Until you." Inky held him close, and he could feel the blood from her hand seeping into his white shirt.
   "I'm getting blood all over your shirt," Inky whispered, and he laughed quietly. How ironic. "I don't care. I should probably just get rid of the damned thing anyway. Or wear it when I paint- whatever. It's your blood this time, at least. Proof that we're both still alive." Thorn took off the bloodstained white shirt, feeling somewhat self-conscious of the parallel lines of self-inflicted scars on both of his arms. He usually wore long sleeves now; to avoid the stares of confusion and disgust, avoid the unwanted questions or mock concern. He felt Inky's hand on his wrist; caught the way she stared- and found no disgust or pity in her grey eyes, only understanding and empathy.
   "The Red Void is gone now, Thorn. Look at me, please," she whispered, her hands soft against his skin. He stared at her intently, and she kept eye contact this time. "We don't have to fight it anymore- run away- the Abomination is trapped, at least for now," she continued. "We won a war, didn't we?" Thorn replied, looking down at the cut on his hand. It hadn't hurt at all, although it still bled somewhat more than he'd anticipated. "Yes. Yes we did," Inky answered thoughtfully, and he could see the tension and anxiety fading from her features.
   In the silent room, they stared at each other for several minutes, neither averting their gaze. Then, Thorn watched Inky as she slowly removed the layers of red lace; a slight blush on her face as he stared at her unashamedly. The candlelight glowed against her pale skin, and Inky herself appeared to be made out of radiant, gold light. He could see several scars from when she'd cut herself to appease the void- although now, she'd never have to do it again. She stepped closer to him, and Thorn saw his own reflection in her grey eyes- for the first time, not hating the person he saw there. The only mirror I haven't wanted to break...
   Together, they'd stood as equals to face the Red Void. Nothing terrible will ever happen to you again. Thorn stared back at her, knowing without a doubt in his mind that he'd always protect her. He pulled her closer possessively, not minding one bit that they'd probably be covered in one another's blood afterwards. It didn't seem to bother Inky, either- Thorn was honestly somewhat surprised when Inky pulled them down together on the concrete floor of the sub-basement room, surrounded by their offerings of flower petals and blood. Her cut hand held the side of his face, and Thorn could feel her blood- warm against his skin. Inky gave him a dark, perverse smile, a deviant expression in her eyes.
   Thorn remembered the last time they'd been together- in this very same room- only under vastly different circumstances. I won't let anything hurt you... unless you want ME to. Thorn knew that Inky trusted him, and he would never again do anything to break that trust. Both of them had been through so much hell together- yet they remained- resilient and defying the evils within the void. Despite the Abomination having taken its leave, a strange darkness still dwelled in Thorn's mind. After all- he would always be a psychopath- though Inky didn't seem to mind when he demonstrated this to her. He stared down at her, covered in their blood and flower petals; a certain darkness in her own eyes.
   The second time, he tried to be more careful- softly tracing the bruises that were starting to show against Inky's pale skin. He always felt conflicted seeing the results of his actions- partially guilty and also equally impressed that Inky bruised so easily. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Thorn asked her hesitantly, staring at a dark bruise on her hipbone where his hand had been. Inky stared back, a look of shared perversion crossing her expression. "Maybe a little bit- but it was nothing that I didn't enjoy," she replied seductively, her hand pressed against the back of his neck. She took a shaky breath, closing her eyes as he touched her, tracing sigils in blood on her skin- ancient symbols of protection, shared between them once again.
   Eyes still half-closed, Inky leaned up to whisper quietly- "I like the way that you fuck me- it makes me feel alive." Thorn smiled at her confession- he always liked it when Inky told him any of the rather inappropriate thoughts that were on her mind. Afterwards, one thing led to another yet again, and some time later- it could have been a few hours for all it mattered- Thorn found himself staring at Inky, who looked disheveled, covered in blood, and happy. Happy to have finally trapped the Abomination, and happy to be with him. Thorn had never thought such a thing could be possible- and now it was reality.
   They lay together in the candlelit room, still recovering from the overall experience, not to mention the aftermath of their activities. "Fuck, Inky- are you trying to kill me?"  Thorn joked, although in truth he felt almost intoxicated; mind fueled by adrenaline and on autopilot. "That was- something else," Inky agreed, holding his hand against her skin so he could feel her rapid heartbeat. "We should probably do something about- this," Thorn commented, holding up his cut hand; staring at the thin red line intersecting the palm. It had stopped bleeding in the midst of all their other indiscretions- although it'd been the last thing on his mind.
   "Maybe we should go home and clean up? We look like we've been through a massacre," Inky replied wryly, staring around the room at all the blood. Thorn laughed- she wasn't wrong. He tore a strip of cloth off the bloody white shirt, wrapping it around their hands to contain the blood for the time being. Thankfully, blood had neither gotten on his charcoal-grey suit or Inky's red dress- although the color of the latter made it difficult to be sure. Once they were appropriately dressed, Thorn decided to burn the remainder of the white shirt- he'd worn it on stage at Tapestry, and the only memory of that night he enjoyed was seeing Inky- even under less than ideal circumstances. "To hell with this damn shirt," he muttered, setting it afire with a black candle, then he helped Inky put the rest of the candles out.
   They took one last look at their trap for the Abomination, deciding they'd check on it periodically and possibly even revisit their blood sacrifice. Thorn drove the rental car back to the dark building they called their home, and as he drove, he realized it was already sunset- who knows how long they'd really been gone. The early fall sky was brilliantly colored, unlike the dark grey of the previous day. Thorn didn't mind- he preferred the grey skies; however, this might be one of the last sunny days for a while. He followed Inky into the building, and they washed off the blood in a daze, not remembering much of the actual showdown with the void itself- quite possibly, it never truly existed. Inky made them some tea, and they sat outside on the stone steps, staring up at the sky.
   "Are you excited to be starting your new job at the museum next week?" he asked, taking a drink of the tea. "Yes," Inky replied quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. "I- I think I finally feel happiness." For so long now, so many years- they'd both been trapped by the Red Void, in some way or another. Now, they were finally at peace. A cold breeze blew dried leaves across the gravel driveway, and Inky shivered at the sudden change of temperature. Thorn pulled her closer, and she looked up at him, and indeed, she looked honestly completely happy for once. The tinge of paranoia had vanished from her expression, and she wore a small, secretive smile on her face.
   "I'll help you get your car fixed tomorrow- my boss- the art director is actually pretty mechanically inclined, and I'm sure that we could work out a deal," Thorn told her. They drank their tea in silent contemplation for a few minutes, a strange calm around them. "Let's go on a road trip soon. I've always wanted to visit the West Coast. I've heard that there are some nice beaches there. I haven't been able to travel because of art school expenses and work- and after everything, I think we definitely deserve a vacation," Inky insisted. "I'm growing tired of the same old scenery. This dusty old town is a bit uneventful, and you know that I would go anywhere- as long as I'm with you," Thorn agreed,  his mind already thinking up new ideas for their road trip.
   Further into the evening, and after several glasses of white wine, Inky had taken out her small red poetry book to read to him. Thorn watched as she flipped through the pages, blushing to herself at a recent entry. "Would you like to read some poetry I've been working on? After all- I read everything you wrote, and this- it's all how I feel about you, everything that's been so complicated to express." She stared back at him with no traces of hesitation.
   "Why don't you read it to me? I could listen to your words all day," Thorn replied, handing Inky another glass of wine. She smiled, taking a drink, then scrutinized her sloppy cursive handwriting before turning back to face him. Thorn stared back at her, listening intently as she read.
   "My body is a temple,
albeit a dark one
crumbling sanctuary of dark despair
I fucking love
self-discovery
-all of my
beautiful internal
darkness
spilling out into
the light
like black ink, mixed with my blood
create a new reality
the void avoided
combining together
like
saltwater and ink."
   The entire time she read, Inky was staring- only at him. Thorn might be a psychopath, completely devoid of emotion most of the time- except with Inky. She looked happy, not scared or on the verge of tears. For once, the fear of the Abomination had dissipated. "You're an amazing writer," he told her, noticing the shy smile on her face. She blushed again, slightly hiding her face behind her hand. "Some of the poems are- a bit stream-of-consciousness. I don't even know whether they make sense or not. I guess they don't need to." Inky looked down at her bandaged hand, then at the red ribbons around her wrist, and she smiled again.
   "You're beautiful when you're happy, Inky. I don't think I've ever seen you look- " Thorn paused, unable to find the right words to explain what he saw in her eyes. Inky reached out, her hand on his wrist. "You made me feel this way. See, Thorn- you don't destroy everything. I'm so happy when I'm with you." She looked up at him, grey eyes full of complete honesty; and in his entire, sometimes emotionless or painful existence, Thorn Keir finally knew he was happy.

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