(Please read the description before continuing)
O'Brien awoke with a jolt, the remnants of some dream vanishing from his mind. He groaned and fell back onto his pillow. Damn it. This really must be what my body's withdrawal symptoms are. He knows not everyone has the exact same symptoms, but there usually are pretty similar ones that people share. And he's pretty sure that any of his are not part of that list. Throwing the sheets off him, he did his usual morning routine; or as normal as it was starting to get. Again, when he glanced in the mirror that morning, those glowing blue eyes nearly engulfed by black were looking back at him. Blinking the image away, he stepped into the shower, hoping that the hot water would calm his nerves. He was rinsing out his hair when he looked down his body and saw that he was covered in blood as it swirled around the drain. John let out a yelp as he jumped back, checking himself for some sudden injury, but noticed that all the blood vanished when he blinked. Holy fuck...What was that? After seeing that, John didn't have much of an apatite, so he just made coffee. Maybe they found a lead on who killed Dorathy. He thought as he turned on the news.
Only to have what little he had in his stomach to almost be thrown up.
"That's correct, Jesse. Police have confirmed that 6 victims were murdered last night in what they now believe to be a killing spree. They were not willing to answer 36 News's questions at the time, but they did inform us that they are pulling every resource to identify the murderers. The victims, 28 year old Felix McSaine; 30 year old Phil Gane; 29 year old Greg Tao; 29 year old Jessica Fair; 34 year old Henry Joe; and 39 year old Edward Arc were found by family, employees, and strangers early this morning. The police has given 36 News no details on how the victims were killed, and while they have said that no two victims were killed in the same way, they believe that this is the work of serial killers on the loose. 36 News will be reporting new details as they emerge."
John barely managed to keep himself up, his whole body violently shaking. Is this for real? He carefully sat himself down, a cold sweat starting to run down his brow and neck. see? i told you everything would be alright. That voice from last night sprang up, tone gleeful. "This isn't alright! My friends are being killed!" or hunted. maybe someone's looking for you? The idea hadn't crossed his mind until now. Fuck. That voice might be right. But who would systematically go through his closest friends and co-workers in order to get to him? John groaned as his head throbbed in pain; thinking about all of this is just too much right now. Emptying his mug of the last bitter drops of coffee, John placed it in the sink and glanced at his calendar. Oh right. I've got an appointment today.
His mother had made him go to a psychiatrist ever since he was a kid; back then it was only once a year, but as he got older, it became more frequent. He remembers asking his mother why he needed to go, but she never said, and she wasn't the type of woman to by tight-lipped about something unless she thought she had to for someone's protection. But why would she be protecting me by keeping quiet about the reason? There was so many things he didn't have a chance to ask her before she died.
"Good morning, John. How are you today?" "Could be better, honestly." The man who he had been seeing since he was 7--his first one retired rather quickly after their first session--frowned slightly at that. "What could be better?" O'Brien sighed as he pressed his back firmly into the chair. "Did you see the morning news?" He nodded. "I knew every single one of them; Dorathy too." "I can see why that would be upsetting. Has anything else happened recently?" John nodded his head with a swallow. "I...Something happened to my medication two days ago and I missed." The other's eyes widen, slight fear in them. "...And how have you felt?" "Okay, surprisingly. But, strange things keep happening." "Like?" "I've been seeing things and hearing a voice."
"What as this voice said to you?" "It told me yesterday that Felix was jealous of me, that he didn't really care about me. It also said yesterday that everything was going to be fine." His psychiatrist raised a brow. "It said that what was going to be alright?" John sighed. "Me. I went to a bar that night and over-heard Felix talking about me; none of it good. I was very upset by his words, but the voice tried to...comfort me, I guess." The other man nodded. "And what about the things you've been seeing?" "I...I've seen images of death. I saw Felix covered in blood, his right leg missing from the kneecap down, his throat slashed and his chest ripped open, everything inside slowly falling out. This morning in the shower, I was drenched in blood, all of it running down my body like it was actually on me and I was washing it off." The other looked very worried. "Have you seen anything else?" "...No." John made it seem like he was thinking about it, but he was really just covering for the fact that he had, he just didn't want to mention it. "With the medication you had been taking, your doctor had told me that it is possible for you to develop mental issues like the ones you've described." "These aren't part of my withdrawal symptoms?" "They may be," His psychiatrist told him, "but you may have developed Schizophrenia as a side effect of you no longer taking your prescription."
John looked as nervous as the other man must have felt based on his expression. "Is there anything we can do?" "If your condition gets worse, yes. For now, it's best to just keep an eye on your visions and the conversations you have with the voice. If they become more frequent or get worse, then there are treatment options I'll look into to help deal with it, ok?" O'Brien sighed again. "Okay. I really wish I knew what was going on with everything that's been happening." The other man smiled warmly to John. "I'm sure the police will find who's doing this. Besides, it said in the paper that this is your lucky week; maybe you'll find yourself someone who understands what you're going through and be there for you." John finally laughed. "A horoscope reading? Really?" The other shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to have a little good to look forward to, would it?" "Well...I guess believing that things will get better might keep my mind off things for a bit." The other grinned. "...I'll schedule you in for the first week next month, alright?" "Sounds great." They shook hands and John left.
O'Brien let out a soft moan was he took a sip of his latté, one of his newer books resting in his lap. He wasn't one for anything outside of black coffee, but he had craved something a little sweeter so he went to his favorite little coffee shop. He liked the mellow atmosphere of the little joint, never too busy since very few people knew about it, and it was always a good place to try and shrink his growing stack of books he had back home. "Excuse me." A voice softly popped up, making John glance up to see who it was. And by God, that man was handsome; tall, beautifully tan skin, and a voice like butter. "Do you mind if I join you?" "Not at all." John said as he gestured to the empty chair, his eyes never leaving the other's form. "That a good read?" "So far, yeah. I'm John, by the way." He introduced as he extended his hand; the other man coiled his long fingers around John's hand, a bright grin on his lips. "Mark Gaius." Mark replied, and John had to control himself; a man as handsome as Mark, with a voice like that? Totally his type.
"I'm surprised I haven't seen you here before, Mark. I come here pretty often." "I recently moved into the area. Glad I found out about this little café; not a big fan of some of the more traveled ones." John chuckled softly under his breath. "How recently?" "Only been here, oh...five months?" "And how do like it?" Mark smiled warmly. "I don't like it, I love it. So glad I made the choice to move." John grinned at the sheer joy on Mark's face. He felt as that voice giggled at how enthused the other was, but he didn't take it as a bad sign. Maybe things are looking up for me. Nearly every time he's heard that voice, it was cold or condescending; any other time it tried to offer advice or comfort. The fact that it's enjoying Mark's joy just as much as John himself must mean that nothing bad is going to happen to him...right?
They conversed for a half hour, Mark having to leave when he recieved a call from his friend; John went home not long after, wanting to make himself dinner and get to bed a little sooner than he usually does. So the knock on his door around 7 caught him off guard. "Oh, hey." He sighed as he saw a friend he was hoping would get out of his life. "What, that's it?" John groaned. "What do you want now?" "Can't believe after all this time, you still treat me like I'm annoying you!" That's because you do! Fucking moron... "Listen, I need a favor." "Which is?" The other man tried to push his way into John's home, but the other's muscled and trained body made it very hard for him to even try, let alone succeed. "I'm a little short on cash and I was hoping you could spare $40?" "$40?! You know what? No. Fuck you and get the hell away from me and my house." The other male narrowed his eyes. "...What?" "I'm not your damn bank and I'm not your cash cow; leave or I'm calling the cops." The other growled, but moved away from John and toward his car. "I'll be back after you change your attitude, John." In retaliation, John slammed his front door shut, practically in the other's face.
"Goddamnit! I really hate that fucker..!" O'Brien yelled, his clenched fist thrusted against the wooden door he closed. a mooch and a bad friend? how'd he get in your life? "Knew him back in middle school. He wasn't like this back then, but he got caught up in some...unfortunate things." The voice hummed softly. can't you do something about him? "Like what? I've done everything I can." That voice sighed, like he too was frustrated with the situation. ...you like Mark, don't you? John blushed madly. ha! knew it! "S-Shut up!" The voice chuckled for a few moments before settling down. well, i don't mind him. "...Glad to know a voice in my head slightly approves of the man I have a crush on." I really wish there was something I could do about that voice. It didn't annoy or worry him--entirely--per say, it was just making him worried for his friends. Every time he's seen that image of him with the glowing blue eyes or hear this voice, someone he knows gets killed. John let out a soft moan as he stretched, a few places in his lower back cracking sweetly. He went to his room and stripped; it had been a rather warm day today and he had forgotten to close his blinds, so his whole room just baked in the sun all day and the ceiling fan only did so much to cool it down. Getting relaxed and settled, O'Brien let out an easy breath and slipped into a dreamless sleep; that smile and laugh he had expected to feel and hear in his mind was absent.