10. Dark Observation -evil is whatever distracts-Franz Kafka

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Several days had passed since the fateful night that the Red Void had appeared on the rooftop of the Gallery, and Thorn had gone back to watching Inky from afar. Somehow, it was easier this way- and nobody would get hurt from his actions. He tried to rationalize that it was all a twisted delusion, and that he was meant to have a solitary existence. Inky- I was always watching you, even though the void tried to force us apart. I sit alone in the dark, trying to block out this strange- feeling? What IS this, I shouldn't feel, I DON'T feel anything except rage, a cold void of endless nothingness, Thorn told himself, trying to sound convincing in his mind, the foreign emotions deceptive.
After all, this is only a sick obsession- I don't even really know you. I know your name- Inky Delaney- I know where you live, I see the abomination you brought into reality, and I really should hate you for that. I should want to kill you, not try to help you. Thorn stared at Inky through his binoculars, she was once again half-naked and covered in paint- different shades of black, red, and gold this time. He blinked slowly, trying to force himself to look away. Fuck- would you please just close your window- then, mind betraying him again- No, I want to watch. Hell, I even LIKE to watch. It makes me feel something. Goddamnit, Inky- you're forcing me to feel, and I DO hate you for that.
The room around him felt cold and stagnant; an electric crackle in the air, though the imagery racing through his conflicted mind made him feel like he had absently wandered into an inferno. Thorn set down the binoculars, trying to ignore the feeling of internalized rage; a conflagration. However, it was futile, his mind was spinning out of control- which was something else he wasn't used to. Oh, you don't even want to know the things I could do- want to do to you. No, WITH you- if you'd allow me to, Thorn thought darkly, the silence of his office strangely uncomfortable.
   He decided to go down to Tapestry- a place that Inky would most definitely not show up at on a busy night like tonight. Seeing as she was not a social person, this was helpful- as she was his sole distraction from the work he needed to do. He was disgusted by his thoughts, and he tried to numb his mind with a strong drink- double gin and tonic, no ice. A familiar voice from a corner of the bar- it was Miranda again, of course- accompanied by Inky's blonde friend, Emma; and the girl who'd left in disgust during the performance art show- Dani. Great- the unholy trinity, the bane of my existence, Thorn thought sarcastically, slouching down awkwardly in the booth to conceal his presence. He knew that they didn't like him at all, and he listened as the trio drunkenly gossiped about the going-ons of the art world.
   "I let Cayson know that I'm going to be doing more solo Artist's Nights," Miranda said, her voice overconfident and irritating. Thorn peered around the corner, curious as to how she was going to attempt a solo show when she truly had the worst stage personality. Dani then chimed in, "If you need any help setting up a show, Evan and I can help you." She drank an obnoxiously-colored bright blue drink that looked like an industrial solvent of some sort, he observed in amusement. Maybe if I'm lucky it's actually poison... He drank his own drink, which reminded him of the way turpentine smelled- so maybe he was the weirdo drinking poison.
   "I haven't seen Inky around lately," Emma commented, sounding more annoyed than concerned. "She's been acting really strange and withdrawn recently- I know she hasn't been sleeping well, if at all. I think that something happened to her after we all left last Artist's Night," Miranda said in a condescending tone. You all left her alone up there, thought Thorn; anything could have happened to her. None of you even really give a damn about her, you only pretend to- and she's supposedly YOUR friend. He angrily finished his drink, now wishing that he had just remained in his office. He'd left his paperwork in the car, and wasn't about to go outside to retrieve it, as he'd have to pass the three and their snarky attitudes. I'm not in the mood for this shit tonight, he thought in irritation.
   "What do you think happened to her?" Dani whispered, her pale blue eyes widening in morbid curiosity. "Maybe Cayson creeped on her, he's a bit of a sleaze," Miranda replied, taking a shot of bourbon that the bartender had brought to their table. Dani laughed nervously, and Thorn wanted to kill her then and there- slice her throat open for laughing at Inky's expense. Now you're on my list, too- he made a mental note to dispose of her as soon as the opportunity arose. Dani had already been disgusted by his performance art, but mocking Inky was just the nail in the coffin, so to speak. He hid in the booth again, as he noticed the bartender making her rounds, hoping that she wouldn't draw any attention to his table, where he sat alone and plotted murder in his mind.
   Thorn wanted to blame Inky for feeling so unhinged- but it wasn't her fault that he was a psychopath, wasn't her fault that he'd become fixated on her. The lack of support from her so-called friends honestly angered him, and he hoped that Inky would realize that they were not the best people to associate herself with. They were toxic, narcissistic and shallow- unlike Inky herself.
   Then the conversation shifted to how Miranda would no longer be working with him, and Thorn tried to tune out what he already knew her opinion of him to be. He'd heard it all before, in fact, he'd thought the same things about himself- so it didn't really make much of a difference. He stared at the empty glass, and was relieved when the three finally left; leaning against each other and giggling drunkenly, stereotypical and predictable. Thorn left Tapestry and went back to the dark building, he hadn't worked on his art in a while and knew that Cayson wanted to set up another show soon. He didn't particularly want to work all night, but sleep seemed to evade him tonight, and he stayed up all night painting and working on the neglected paperwork.
   A few weeks later, Thorn was finished with his paintings and miscellaneous projects, waiting patiently for Inky to figure out the code of the coordinates he'd left her. He hadn't seen her at work since the incident, perhaps she'd been working a new schedule- from what he could tell, she'd been mostly at her apartment working on art; staying awake during the night and chainsmoking. She'd looked paler than usual, covered in paint stains and cigarette burns from when she'd almost fallen asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand. Thorn knew that her insomnia was caused by the Red Void, and he desperately wanted to help, though he'd been trying to avoid thinking about her; torturing himself. He wondered if she even remembered the night beyond the vague, nightmarish images that remained. I wonder if she thinks about me- if I still scare her, he thought. 
   In the morning, he was at the Gallery drinking coffee, and he saw that Inky was there for the first time in what seemed like weeks. She was with Emma and Miranda on the patio; they were all drinking small paper cups of coffee, which he observed Inky adding a disturbing amount of sugar to. He noticed that they were talking, but couldn't quite hear what they were discussing. Inky appeared to be staring blankly off into the distance, not listening- or pretending to listen- to what her companions were saying. Thorn watched as she pulled the white card he'd left her out of her jacket pocket. So- you didn't get rid of it, after all. Does that mean you might actually want to talk to me?
   Emma looked over at the card in Inky's hand, a look of distaste on her features. "What's that?" she questioned, leaning closer to take a better look. Thorn stepped out of the hallway area, trying to listen in on their conversation. "I- found it on the beach the next morning," Inky replied slowly, shaking her head and taking another sip of the coffee. She made a face, setting the cup down. The Gallery was notorious for having bad coffee, Thorn remembered in mild amusement. Inky stared at the ground, her friends peering over at the card she held in her hands.
   Slowly, Inky looked up- this time she stared right in his direction, and Thorn could only stare back at her, curious as to what she was thinking. He watched as she averted her eyes, yet she seemed both reluctant and scared. Emma and Miranda noticed Thorn staring at Inky as well, and looked away. "What a creep," muttered Emma, staring at him with a disapproving look. He noticed that Miranda visibly shuddered in disgust, pulling her coat over her shoulders protectively, as though she expected Thorn to cut her again. "He wasn't too happy that I won't be working with him anymore," she lied, explaining that she'd had to get stitches.
   I never wanted to work with you in the first place, he thought. Emma scoffed in agreement, giving him another dirty look over her cup of coffee, eyes narrowed and looking like broken sea-glass. "He's just a sadist who gets off on cutting people up- not worth our time." Thorn saw Inky look up at this, accidentally meeting his eyes again. She blinked, subconsciously touched the wrist he had held that night. Then, she looked down at the white card bearing the coordinates, and back up at him again, this time making eye contact on purpose. He gave her a subtle nod, then exited the building through the glass door, leaving them alone with their coffee.
   Thorn wondered if Inky was actually going to follow the coordinates- they led directly to where he lived, though the dark building was in a slightly obscure location; in the strange dusty town that tourists rarely ever ventured through. Cayson had found it amusing when he'd actually chosen to move there, but in all honesty- Thorn enjoyed the privacy and the solitude that living there provided. That, and it was definitely easier to hide some of his- darker aspirations and murderous intent. He smiled darkly to himself- maybe Inky would pay him a visit sooner rather than later, she'd kept the card he'd given her, a dark memento of the night of the Red Void.
   No longer did he feel betrayed by his own mind, because though he sensed that Inky was still apprehensive and even intimidated by him- she was also curious of the answers he could give her- how to stop the constant insomnia, the terrors of the Red Void. Don't be scared of me, Inky. I'll tell you what you need to do to stop the void from harming you. Thorn had also seen something else there in her grey eyes- though he couldn't be certain what exactly it was. Soon, everything would hopefully be resolved, no matter what happened.

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