Asylum

Pushed to the Edge

He's like this because of you, that menacing voice tells me. What kind of friend are you to do this to him?

For a moment, I stop moving Reaper, contemplating the voice. I know it's just acting up because I'm using the darkest side of my power, but it's hard to dismiss when it's playing up on the thoughts I've been trying to bury the moment my friends were corralled in here; cuffed and confused. They're here because of me, and the voice in my head – the one that must be telling Reaper to die – doesn't make this any easier on me.

It's then that a thought occurs to me.

My voice has always fed off previously existing thoughts, deeply rooted in the back of my mind. I wonder if, sometime in the past or her present, the Reaper has been suicidal. If she's been near the edge of a cliff and has wondered if anyone would be troubled if she threw herself over. Perhaps the Sages were wrong; it isn't my thoughts about the Reaper that makes her voice tick, but her own thoughts. I was simply the one who implemented the voice.

I remember that beneath her steely exterior and desire to paint us red with our own blood, Reaper is still a girl. Or, at least she once was. At one point, she was an ordinary girl, trying to understand her power, just like me. Though it's difficult to imagine us ever being on the same playing field, I know at one point we were, and that makes me feel that the way I have power over her is inhumane and wrong. No matter how dirty Reaper plays, nor how viciously she'll come after me, I don't think I'll be able to kill her. It isn't in my DNA to murder even my worst enemies. It isn't my place to kill her.

But right now, I have a room full of friends who need my help, some of which are greatly injured. While I won't be killing anybody, I will be controlling my inner demons to assist them in any way I can. And if that requires getting a blood drop or two, then that's just something I'll have to live with. It's worth it to save these people.

Resuming the removal of Reaper's dagger, I patiently slide the knife out of Ren's flesh, the blade coming out in shining crimson. I command her hand to unfurl, causing the blade to rattle on the ground. Ren clutches his injury and creeps around the Reaper, staying out of her reach. I expect him to join the others on the chair, who stare at me with wide eyes shaped in fear and awe – a mixture I never wanted to be caused by me. For a moment, I'm full of grief and shame, thinking that I might've only scared them more than saved them.

You're a monster, the voice hisses in my head, snapping me out of my trance. Gritting my teeth, I force Reaper's legs to bend, and when she's close to the ground, to fold like she's sitting on a kindergarten's class rug. I even fold her hands together and gingerly place them in her lap.

"Are you okay?" Ren asks, closer than I anticipated him to be.

"I am," I tell him. "I'm sorry that I-"

"Don't worry about it," Ren demands, voice stern. "It's my fault for pushing you away in the first place. Kya, I'm..." he goes to put a hand on my shoulder, but hesitates and drops it to his side. "I'm so, so sorry."

For a brief moment, I look to him. His eyes are swimming with tears and I can see how genuine he is. If only he wasn't doing this now, in front of everybody and while the Reaper is in my grasp. "We can do this later. Now isn't the time."

Ren nods like he understands, but he stands and stares down at me, looking at me like he wants to reach out to me but can't. Eventually, he backs away and returns to the others, who begin to whisper in excitement. "This is what's going to happen," I tell Reaper and Cerberus, who eyes me in the corner. "My friends and I are going to leave, and you and Cerberus aren't going to follow us."