averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

Henry, don't, listen to me--

[He shrinks back into the corner, burying his face in his arms as soon as he's caught a glimpse of that twisted shadow. That's nothing he wants to see, and besides- he's holding out hope that if he can't look at Henry, if there's nothing he can see that his control would act on, maybe it won't.

That's a futile hope. He isn't sure whether he wants Henry close, wants the comfort despite the danger to them both, or whether he wants him to just leave, and when his power reaches out it's similarly conflicted. It latches on to Henry, nudges him a few steps forward before coming to an abrupt, jerky stop and all but shoving him backward. The motions are poorly controlled, unrestrained, and it's just as likely to send him actually sprawling as it is to bring him to a stop.

Ryan can feel it working, clinging harder to himself with a stifled, distressed sound-- no, this isn't what he wanted, he just wants it to stop, to let go.]

You need to go.

[With that, his power reacts again, with more purpose this time, and forces Henry back against the wall.]

Ryan, wait- it's just me, I--

[His first reaction to the sensation of being controlled is more along the lines of, 'oh wow, how cool is this.' Even when he ends up off balance (maybe even especially), limbs conflicted about where they're supposed to be going- it was almost fun.

The sounds Ryan was making, though- and the sight of him curled up and unhappy- they more than outweighed the momentary fascination. Immediately his attention shifted; he needed to get to him somehow, to comfort him- and Henry's shadow reacts in his place, crawling with more purpose towards Ryan, only vaguely human by this point. Gangly arms push itself up out of the floor, broken fingers reach towards Ryan's own arms, though for the moment, it does little other than touch. It wanted to help.

Distracted enough by the sight, a small yelp is startled out of Henry as he's pushed into the wall, and unconsciously he tries to fight it. It doesn't work, of course, there's not even any outward sign of the effort.

Apart from the shadowbody. It leans closer, fingers sharpening as they cling.

It wanted to help.]

It's out of control, Henry, it's working without me even doing anything. I don't want it to hurt you-

[He glances up- and inhales a sharp breath as he realizes the shadow is right there, tensing as it lays its fingers on him. If he just holds still, doesn't give that uncontrolled shadow (and it must be uncontrolled too, he's seen other backfires, this is all such a mess) a reason to act, maybe he'll be safe enough.

When it clings, sharp fingertips poking into his skin, he winces and swallows a pained little noise- and lashes out again without meaning to. His power reacts to his fear, tightening its grip on Henry, forcing his muscles to tense painfully as it holds him frozen still.]

-I don't want us to hurt each other.

[It's breathy, a near-whisper. This has to stop. He has to make it stop. His power's more effective, he can feel it, maybe it can affect that horrible shadow-- but trying to assert his will over his power does nothing.]

[It was- odd, extremely odd, to feel his muscles rigid without being able to do anything about it, to be so frozen in place that it ached.]

I don't want to either, I'm not-

[Even trying not to fight it didn't seem to work, Henry was no more free, and no less wanting to rush over and be with Ryan, even if running away would've been the better option.

In his place, the darkness clung harder, growing extra arms to scratch and hold. It wasn't enough, even as it left thin cuts over his arms, over anywhere it could reach, barely opening the skin. Every touch was a needy razor trying to scrape all that skin away, in tiny strips at a time.

At the same time, something cat-like raises a head out of Ryan's own shadow, creeping around his foot; fangs dig into his ankle without warning, deep into muscle, as the rest of his shadow grows hands, claws- grabbing onto his legs, digging into his side, holding him in place, wanting to be with him.]

Henry--

[It's alarmed, gasped out as he tries to push himself up, to scramble away from those clinging arms and scraping claws- but he'd started off backed into that corner, and there's nowhere to go. Ryan pushes back against them as he tries to find his feet, shoving at any arms he can reach, frantically trying to get them away from him.

And then the cat-shadow sinks its teeth into his leg, making him scream in pain as his own shadow drags him back down to hold him there. Ryan doesn't stop struggling, hoping to squirm free even as the effort just drags skin over claws.]

No- no, let me go, let go of me!

[In his panic he reaches for his power reflexively, but it can't touch those shadows. The only things for it to reach are Henry and Ryan himself, and it already has hold of one. His agitation is enough that it can't simply hold still; it drops Henry to his knees, yanks him back up, throws him sprawling on the ground again.]

Ryan--

[The answering cry is reflexive, near panicked at the sound of that scream, reacting further to Ryan's own panic. The assault his own body is putting itself through- it's further disorienting, an unhappy yelp pulled from him as he's knocked around. He's breathless, briefly stunned when he finally hits the floor again, unable to break or cushion the fall.

He can only watch as his shadows keep Ryan pulled down, tearing at him each time he struggles to rise, and then tearing some more. Each hand that's pulled free creates another, twisted fingers twisting at Ryan's skin, wrapping around arms and pulling. Not only cutting, it takes one arm and jerks it back, bit by bit, as though intending to break it off entirely.]

I'm sorry, I can't get them--

[Henry finally cries out, panicking more at the alarm in his own voice. Panic that only strengthens the darkness, giving it more form, more force, a sort of desperation to the way it's trying to burrow underneath Ryan's skin, breaking him in the process.]

No--

[It's truly panicked now, his struggles only increasing-- until those shadows start to pull at his arm. He stills, whimpering, not wanting to risk tugging it harder and only hurting himself more; he can feel warmth and slick wetness on his skin along with the pain of the hands and claws tearing at him, knows they're digging in too deep. Ryan can't hold truly still, flinching away (or trying to) every time they cut him, face wet with tears he hadn't even noticed, screaming sobs escaping him as the darkness gains strength and redoubles its efforts. It hurts, everything hurts, he doesn't know how long he can stand this.]

Henry-- Henry, please, make it-- just make it stop, help me--

[Any thought of dignity's long gone out the window, eclipsed by how badly it hurts, how terrified he is. It's outright begging, desperately sobbed out between pained cries.]

Edited 2014-02-17 21:39 (UTC)

[It's mindlessly, frantically that Henry struggles to regain control, and it's all the more agonizing for having nothing to show for it. Unable to move even a hand towards him, he's forced to watch, half-blinded by his own tears as he hears the snap of bone as Ryan's arm is pulled too far back. Not that the shadows leg go even then, still twisting around the broken joint, clawing up to his shoulder. Shoving and holding him down against the floor, it writhes over to his other arm, finding the same grip that it had on the first.

There's the wilder cut now. Strips of darkness that are more reminiscent of blades than limbs, tear through the muscles of his forearms, stabbing down his chest, veering off down a thigh- great gashes that send blood spattering over the walls and floor, that scrape down to bone with each pass.

Henry screams in sympathy when he hears the other arm crack. Crushed or snapped, it didn't matter- he hadn't listened, he was hurting Ryan, he wasn't helping- couldn't even scratch his fingers into the floor as the shadows grew more frenzied. His sobbing mixed with Ryan's- wordless pleading as the room itself darkened.
The shadows hated those sounds, it wanted to stop them. That would fix everything.]

[It's all indistinct from there, no more words making their way out of his mouth- this isn't like the last time. Davesprite had hurt him before he died, but it had been over with so quickly. He was efficient. This? This feels like it's dragging on forever, pain searing every limb. He doesn't know if he's screaming or Henry is, can't make anything out, can't think through it; it's all too much for him to take, and if it weren't for how relentless the shadows are he would have passed out by now. Each slice is a fresh sting that jerks him back into awareness, much as he wishes he could just slip out of it- he's unable to plead for it, but he just wants it to end, one way or another.]

[Henry wished he could close his ears to it, choking breaths the only motion he could make, even that much straining against the control he was locked in.

He was desperate to stop it, to keep Ryan from hurting, to stop that horrible noise he was making. Above everything else, he didn't want to hear it, wanted to hide from what he was doing, it was all his fault--

So the shadows comply, in their way, with that wish. Darkness wraps around Ryan's throat, though it's more like the jaws of a beast than the more familiar collar. It holds and begins to compress. It would stop him. With blunt fangs that crush against his throat, it would keep him quiet.]

[The sounds turn choked, strangled, gasping-- he wants it to end but not like this, never like this. Instinct won't let him just lie there, the last of his breath and consciousness poured into one last, desperate struggle for escape, for his life-- but with as many injuries as the shadows have inflicted it's fruitless from the start. Ryan's lost enough blood already, neither arm wants to work, he can hardly move his legs either.

It crushes the life out of him so easily against that feeble attempt at fighting it.

He finally slips into silence, into darkness, without so much as a final gasp; it was already stifled in a throat unable to work anything more past that pressure. It leaves him limp, lifeless in the shadows' grasp, his control finally fading and releasing Henry from its hold.]

[It's quiet, the control finally releases him, and in his desperation, Henry doesn't immediately realize what that means. He sags against the floor, muscles twitching from being overextended for too long, limbs scrambling to adjust to movement again. It's a rough scramble of effort to reach Ryan's side, skidding on the blood that was already beginning to spread. Even if his throat hadn't been crushed, blood loss would've done its work soon enough.

And it's not like the shadows were going to take something like death as a cue to retreat. Without the need to hold him down, they slash more recklessly, jolting his body with each strike, though he can't bleed any more, only drip. It's worst around his throat, that crushing pressure turned to gnawing, pulling and rending his neck apart, until there was little more than scraps of skin and bone.

Henry claws at it once he reaches him, curling over and pleading with it to stop, and by the time the darkness finally decides to settle elsewhere, he has a hand in Ryan's throat, and he's struggling to breathe.]

Get... get up Ryan, it's okay now, I stopped it--

[It's so soft, it's barely audible, and with the way Henry's staring at him, it's obvious that nothing's really sunk in yet. His other hand cups his face, nudges it, strokes his hair- even as he's doing nothing but staining it, his breath going more and more shallow as time passes and he gets no response.]

Please Ryan, I'm sorry, I'll listen to you next time, just, please--

[A sharper nudging, tears burning his face as he huddles closer, curls up over what was left of his chest, still occasionally murmuring for him to move.

The shadows still remain, breaking things around the room, cutting into walls, gouging holes into the door. Henry doesn't notice, barely conscious himself, when a single word finally manages to form in his thoughts.

Help. He needed help. It's reflex that has Henry fumbling with the bracelet, before the rest of his mind catches up to remind him it's too late.

And whose fault was that? Henry's silent as the recording starts.]

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