SPØØKY WEEK SPECIAL 3/7
Songfic for "Goner" by twenty øne piløts
♪I'm a goner♪
The two of you sit.
Waiting.
The agonizing sound of silence drowns your thoughts.
All you know is waiting.
Phil inhales.
♪somebody catch my breath♪
He tries to speak.
But he can't.
You want to speak.
But you can't.
He'll hurt Phil if you speak.
He.
You despise him.
But you can't say his name.
If you say his name,
he'll hurt Phil.
♪I'm a goner♪
"(Y/N)," Phil whispers.
And then it happens.
Slowly, the darkness starts to creep out from under the sleeve of his shirt.
He winces in pain and tightly grips the edge of the couch as the shadow continues to engulf his flesh.
It trails down his arm, past his elbow,
then it actually manifests itself at his wrists.
The darkness, the same color as his jet black hair, continues to travel, eventually burning into hands, and finally coming to a stop at his fingertips.
"(Y/N)," Phil says again with more conviction.
With more panic. Anxiety. Stress.
Fear.
♪somebody catch my breath♪
You open your mouth to reply.
"D–Don't," he snaps, moving his arms toward you.
You instinctively startle away from him.
He's already here.
He stands to stand.
Not Phil.
He.
The one you despise.
Not the one you love.
"(Y/N)," he says, his voice deep and husky. He starts pacing back and forth in front of you. "Get out of here. Leave me alone."
Suddenly, his voice changes back to normal. He flickers back to Phil for just a moment.
"N–No!" Phil says desperately. He stops pacing and turns to you, reaching out for you. "Stay! Please! D–Don't leave me alone! Don't leave me alone!" He screams.
♪I want to be known by you♪
"Phil—!" You cry, grabbing his blackened hand.
Phil squeezes your hand tightly before his arm slowly falls limp, and he lets go.
♪I want to be known by you♪
He emits a short cry of pain before doubling over and squeezing his eyes closed.
"Phil!" You scream. You jump up off the couch and kneel beside Phil, who's crouching on the floor.
No matter how much you want to, you cannot hold him.
He will hurt him more if you hold him.
♪Though I'm weak♪
Phil sets his jaw. His eyes are still squeezed shut. One hand is on the floor to keep his balance, and the other is clutching his shirt, right above his heart.
His neck is still pale, unlike his hands.
That will change soon.
It will take over all of him soon.
"(Y/N)—" he gasps. His eyes still remain closed. "—Help me—"
♪and beaten down♪
But then he grits his teeth and whips his head up to you.
When he opens his eyes, they're blood red.
A small, quiet scream escapes your lips, and you push away from Phil, falling to your back.
Your prop yourself up on one elbow and stare in horror as the final black markings begin to peak out of his shirt collar. The darkness—like a thin black paint—spreads across his collarbone. It races up his neck, seemingly eager to take control of another mind. Another body.
The only sound in the small lounge is your and Phil's heavy breathing.
"K–Kill...him..." Phil breathes.
At first you can't tell who's speaking: Phil, or him.
But the voice. The deep, unnatural, inhuman voice that seems to pound in your ears like a bass drum. It makes your heart beat faster and your bones shake and your blood run cold.
It's him.
It's over.
He has won.
"Phil..." you whisper. "Phil...no..."
Tears stream down your cheeks as he slowly stands, shaking his head and tightening his muscles.
He cranes his neck and looks down at you.
"Phil, please."
His red eyes widen. Though he's staring directly at you, he seems so distant. In another world, almost.
But you know where he is.
Fighting.
In his mind. In his body.
Fighting him.
You can tell how much he's struggling. You can tell that he's desperately trudging through the desert of his mind, desperately trying to overcome this. To overcome him.
"Phil," you whisper.
He continues to stare down at you, not saying a word. Every few seconds, he twitches—his hand, his leg, his head.
"Phil," you repeat, louder this time. He must hear your voice. He must.
♪I'll slip away♪
"M...Music..." He replies, clutching at his black tattooed throat.
Phil is fighting.
"Play music, (Y/N)," He rasps. Even a task as simple as talking is a struggle.
You nod repeatedly, mouth slightly agape as you stare up at Phil.
He's towering over you, his glowing red eyes one of the only sources of light in the dimly lit lounge. His twisted shadow is cast against the wall behind him. It doesn't look like his ordinary shadow. It looks like his shadow.
"Move!" He growls, his voice deep and distorted once again.
You don't hesitate to quickly scramble to your feet.
You know you can't leave him alone.
But you have no other choice.
You have to get to the piano in Dan's room.
If only Dan was here.
But he's not.
You are, and you have to fight for him.
You rush out of the lounge, your foot catching on the carpet, and stumble down the hallway.
Footsteps trail behind you.
The fourth light—the one at the end of the hall, right above the doors to Dan and Phil's rooms—is out, creating a small patch of dark shadow.
You push open Dan's bedroom door and immediately lunge for one thing:
His piano.
You virtually fall onto the bench and slam your hands on the keys.
It's a terrible, terrible sound.
But at least it's a sound.
You reposition yourself so that your fingers are hovering over the correct keys this time.
Just as he walks through the door.
Without hesitation, you press down on the piano keys, some white and some black.
You begin to play a melody.
A simple one, only a few notes per measure.
♪into this sound♪
"STOP IT!" He growls, grabbing your shoulder. His fingernails dig into your shoulder, and you cry out in pain.
But you keep playing.
"You can't play," he jeers. "You never could."
You squeeze your eyes shut.
He may control Phil, but you sure as hell can't let him control you.
You can't both be gone.
He gets close to you. Close enough to whisper threatening things in your ear that make you question yourself.
"I always hated listening to you play this...this heathen machine," he spats.
"You were never any good."
You hesitate.
But you press the next key.
"I like watching you fail."
You falter.
But you play the next note.
"I want you to fail."
You keep going.
He grits his teeth and lets out a scream.
"STOP!" He yells at the top of his lungs. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" He grips the side of his head so tightly he could pull out tufts of hair.
Your resilient fingers still press the keys.
"K–K–KILL—" He stutters, clutching both sides of his head in pain. "M–ME."
You try desperately to ignore him,
but it's impossible to ignore the one you love,
especially when they're hurting so much.
"J–Just stop..." He growls, his breathing heavy. His chest rises and falls rapidly with every word. "playing...t–that...MUSIC—!"
With that, he shoves you off of the bench and slams the lid over the piano keys closed.
You land on the floor, hitting your head on the corner of the piano in the process.
Black spots form at the edges of your vision.
Your head spins.
Blood drips down the side of your face.
But Phil is too overcome to notice.
He stares down at your broken figure, lying crumpled on the floor.
♪The ghost of you♪
Any and all traces of Phil are long, long gone.
♪is close to me♪
Even though your stomach is churning with fear, and you're on the verge of falling unconscious, you know he is going through something way worse.
Now it's your turn to fight.
For him.
Against him.
"No."
Your voice rings out in the silent room.
With much difficulty, you manage to raise yourself to a crouching position.
You grit your teeth to try to subdue the pain.
And you stand.
You stand, shakily, mere inches from him.
"I know who you are inside," you say gravely.
♪I'm inside out♪
"You can't control me."
"And I won't let you control him."
♪you're underneath♪
A sudden bolt of courage surges through your veins.
"Blurryface," you spat.
♪I've got two faces♪
At the sound of his name, his real name, he recoils.
"I'm not afraid anymore!" You shout. Your voice is already hoarse. "I'm not afraid to say your name! I–I'm not!"
Your hands curl into fists.
"You are not him, Phil!" You yell, taking a step toward Blurryface. "He is you but you are not him!"
♪Blurry's the one I'm not♪
Blurryface takes a step backward, away from you. He looks confused. As if he's pondering how you actually have the audacity to fight him.
"(Y/N)—" He chokes out. His voice sounds strange, like it's two different people. Half deep and distorted, half his own.
♪I've got two faces♪
"K–K–Keep going—" He breathes, and for a moment you think Phil is fighting again.
♪Blurry's the one I'm not♪
But then his head whips to the side, almost robotically, and the marks on his neck and hands become blacker than ever.
"NO!" He shouts. He desperately clutches at his blackened neck, like he's trying to choke himself. "Leave me alone!"
"D–Don't," another voice cries. It's Phil. "Don't leave me—"
♪I need your help to take him out♪
"I'm evil," He interrupts, seething with anger. He starts pacing back and forth, tensing his muscles and fidgeting his hands.
"No I'm not!" Phil's voice comes out of Blurryface's mouth again.
♪I need your help to take him out♪
Blood from the gash on your head runs into your eyes, making you lightheaded and almost unable to see. You stumble backward, blindly reaching for the piano. You sit down on the edge of the bench and watch helplessly as Phil and Blurryface struggle back and forth.
♪Though I'm weak♪
You want desperately to do something, but it's almost impossible.
You're losing too much blood.
You can barely stay conscious, let alone stand and defeat a monster.
♪and beaten down♪
He shakes his head like a mad man, as if he's trying to shake something out of his mind. "What I shouldn't do—"
"—I will fight—"
"I will," Blurryface finishes, ignoring Phil's voice. "What I wanna save I—"
"—Will try—!"
"—Will kill." Blurryface snaps, looking directly at you.
A shiver runs down your spine.
Those blood red eyes fixate on yours.
And you can't seem to look away.
Because you know,
deep down,
Phil is behind those eyes.
Phil is behind those blood red eyes.
Phil is behind that dark neck, those dark hands.
Phil is behind that deep, distorted voice.
Phil is behind Blurryface.
And you need to get him out.
You spin your body around so that you're no longer facing him, but the piano.
You set your jaw and lift up the piano cover. The ivory keys shine up at you and seem to beg to be played.
You curve your fingers and take a breath.
♪I'll slip away♪
You watch your fingers shake as they hover over the keys.
The only thing on your mind is Phil,
but you know there's much more on his mind.
You play the first note of Goner.
Then the second.
Then the third.
♪into this sound♪
Your left hand plays a chord.
Your right hand alternates between A and C Sharp.
He stops talking.
You keep playing.
"Make the voices stop!" You hear the somewhat distorted voice shout somewhere next to you.
You set your jaw and keep playing.
A and F# together.
"Truce! Truce! Stop fighting!"
C#, A, C#.
"Please!"
G#, B, E, all together.
"Let me live!"
It's working.
He's fighting.
You continue playing.
Your fingers race across the keys as he rapidly paces back and forth next to you. His movements are quick and unnatural, almost inhuman.
♪The ghost of you♪
Your playing gets faster and faster with every word he says.
So, so close.
He's fighting.
He's just too strong.
♪is close to me♪
"Cry," He sneers, and at first you think he's telling himself to cry.
But then you realize he's talking to you.
You bite your lip.
Droplets of tears form in the corner of your eyes.
"Give up and cry."
But you don't.
You don't do what he says.
It's almost done. It's almost over.
So close.
You keep playing the song.
♪I'm inside out♪
Blood trails down the side of your face and drips onto your hands and the piano.
Your bloody fingers smear red all over the black and white keys.
Your body sways back and forth, on the verge on falling away.
Your misty eyes struggle to see, but that doesn't matter.
You know this song by heart.
♪you're underneath♪
"STOP!" He shouts, the distortion in his voice returning.
You feel his fingers wrap around your neck and yank you off of the piano bench to a standing position.
Both of your chests heave with heavy breathing.
"Ph–Phil—" you say between gasps for air. "I–I...can't–b–reathe—!"
His red eyes widen in horror.
"S–Stop!" He cries, his real voice breaking through. "You're hurting her!"
"Kill her!" The deep, husky voice screams.
"No!"
He suddenly twitches and releases your neck.
You crumple to the ground, feeling absolutely defeated.
No.
Enough.
Phil needs help.
He needs to stay alive.
And that monster might just kill him.
You wipe the blood out of your eyes and use what little strength you have left to push yourself up.
You inhale sharply.
"Get out!" You scream at the top of your lungs. "Get out of him!"
With a final burst of strength, you raise your fist and punch him right across the face.
♪Don't let me be gone♪
He stumbles backwards, clutching the bottom of his face with one hand.
"Get out!" You scream again, punching him again out of pure anger.
Now his lip is busted. Blood trickles down his chin.
You grab both sides of his face and pull his lips down to yours.
You taste salty, sickening blood,
but you just kiss him more.
You feel an arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer.
And then you black out.
Your tunnel vision gets worse and worse until all you see is blackness. The world around you fades as your knees give out and you crumple to the floor.
As you slowly drift back into consciousness, you feel cold, pale hands gather you up into a sitting position.
"(Y/N)," he says. "(Y/N)."
You try your best to open your droopy eyelids.
You see clear blue eyes staring down at you.
"P-Phil?" You whisper shakily.
Phil smiles weakly and tightly holds you to him.
"We did it, (Y/N)," he whispers.
"He's gone."
"And I'm back."
"We did it."
♪Don't let me be gone♪
💀fin💀
I'm so proud of this.