[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jLsB8OE.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/GQm8wqe.png[/img][/center] One often wonders where the ever stretching pavement of a passing day will take you. It was, however, a thought which had left a certain absence in Willow's mind. This was just another prison, a statement he proceeded to chant within the recess of a flayed soul. [i]"It's not that bad, now is it?"[/i] A voice echoed within the walls of Willow's sanity, the young man's slender fingers digging into his scalp. [i]"Just kill them all!"[/i] Came another voice, [i]"no! Don't put yourself at a disadvantage! Not yet! Wait until they are sleeping. All these 'heroes',"[/i] a third joined him, each a ghostly string of words as if formed by his very own lips. [i]"What do they know of suffering? Of anger!? Show them, Willow!"[/i] Clenching his teeth, Willow breathed a sharp breath, his body tensing as a bare foot felt the cold, metallic tiles against its sole.  "Willow?" This time, one was sure to note that words came to greet his wears from an external source, the nurse. "I believe we should raise your prescribed medication," she continued, taking notes.  [i]"What does she know!?"[/i] The wrathful words were a scream, [i]"she wants to silence us, Willow!"[/i] As if a screeching banshee clawing the sides of his skull, an older voice came to accompany him, [i]"we are your only friends, Willow."[/i] This one was was somewhat softer, no, quite notably so.[i] "We were with you when your parents hurt you,"[/i] it proceeded, [i]"in the asylum, during your beatings, when you tried to jack off..,"[/i] it chuckled, [i]"we're you. We are all you. That will never change."[/i]  [b][color=#e3dac9]"Thanks,"[/color][/b] the young man finally spoke, his silent and raspy voice a mere whisper as he stood, leaving the hospital bed vacant. [b][color=#e3dac9]"I'll be fine."[/color][/b]  "We'll make sure to keep it, that way," the nurse smiled, allowing Horizon's new addition to step out of the medical examination room.  [i]"You're no fun, Willow,"[/i] a voice bellowed, [i]"you didn't even make her your puppet,"[/i] it instigated. [i]"Idiot, if he did that, we'd be in deep shit!"[/i] Another responded. Indeed, in a way, it was quite entertaining to listen to these conflicting opinions. As if every feeling within the boy's heart had been given a mind of its own, each in constant argument with the other. He was well aware that these voices were mere fiction, something brought to life through the fractured pieces of his sanity. Even so, the voices actually looked out for him. They never wanted him to hurt himself but rather aimed their wrath at others to prevent Willow from being hurt, yet again.  One would be a fool to dismiss their insanity. Willow's extremes, every emotional turmoil which would otherwise boil over had been given a tune to sing, and for him to hear. [b][color=#e3dac9]"Shut up,"[/color][/b] he spoke, out of earshot of anyone else.  [i]"There he is!"[/i] The internal tormentors responded, [i]"we missed you, Willow!" [/i] [b][color=#e3dac9]"I worry,"[/color][/b] the boy spoke, dropping to a sofa in the shared common room. It would appear that most inhabitants were present at the gym, a place he wouldn't be caught dead in. [b][color=#e3dac9]"There are at least two people here with the ability to hear you."[/color][/b] [i]"Exciting, isn't it!?"[/i] A response came, [i]"we all look forward to meeting them,"[/i] it continued, [i]"greeting them,"[/i] a second voice pitched in, [i]"feeling them,"[/i] a third came, [i]"killing them?"[/i] A fourth asked. [i]"Why do you always have to ruin it!? Piss off!"[/i]  Slipping a headset over his ears, the troubled young man turned some music on, and made sure to raise the volume. This was perfect. The music always drowned the voices out, and it allowed for a moment's rest. Others might have considered the volume quite high, but for Willow, it was quite perfect. Sometimes, however, listening to a relaxing tune worked, as well. The voices were part of Willow, they were the fractals of his mind. Sometimes, they were quiet and simply listened, other times they sang along. It was difficult to count exactly how many voices were within his head but Willow had been able to dot an angry voice, a sultry one, and a careful tune. It varied, with those three being the foremost and prominent contenders.  Running a hand up his scrawny torso, a gentle breath managed its way out of his lips, large, black eyes turning to look at the television. He could not hear what the characters were saying, but subtitles were enough to dispell the issue. How often would he need to head out and fight crime, along with the others? How often would he be placed in front of a fanatic with a gun? Willow's ability was unforgiving at its most merciful of levels. Horizon would undoubtedly wish to show him to the world, at their own peril. Horizon's heroes were colorful, they were spectacular, and none of them was a Reaper. Even the darker heroes were heroic. That was not Willow. The boy was not afraid of getting hurt. He was not afraid of others, not in the slightest. In fact, he had reached a level of apathy where external conflict barely even affected him. However, he was quite terrified of what would happen, if he unleashed his powers. The last time it happened, he left mutilated corpses in his wake. It happened with his parents, and it happened at the asylum. With that in mind, Willow's voices were not evil. They were psychotic, but not evil. As if beasts of the most fundamental emotional streams, they were driven by passion. [b][color=#e3dac9]"You guys won't break me,"[/color][/b] he spoke up, lowering the volume of his music.  [i]"Break you?"[/i] A voice responded, [i]"we would never do that, our dearest, most precious Willow! We're here to protect you!"[/i] It spoke, [i]"to love you!"[/i] Another added. [i]"Maybe you should as one of those mind wizards to put you inside your head so we can really pleasure you..,"[/i] a chuckle emanating from within his skull. [b][color=#e3dac9]"Piss off,"[/color][/b] the boy sighed, sinking down in the sofa with an arm covering his eyes.