dedicated to rae for suggesting that blackwood should use a snake and 'one of those flute things' to control people 💕

   The blade of the knife was thin and blunt, not made for cutting through flesh and bone.

   The first thing that left my mouth was a horrified scream, hoarse with the terror coursing through my body. 

   Evan's expression remained blank as he raised the weapon to his arm and began sawing at his skin. Blood blossomed at the bottom of the blade, spilling down his arm and onto his trousers.

   "Tell him to stop, Aspen." Blackwood said calmly.

   "Evan, stop!" I said, but I was sure he was long past hearing me. In desperation, I stepped towards him, any fear of him turning the blade onto me shoved to the back of my mind as I grabbed his right hand, pulling it away. Evan was strong, but with only one arm to shove me off I was able to manoeuvre the knife-wielding one away from his body for a few mere seconds.

   But then firm hands clasped my shoulder, yanking me away harshly. "Don't touch him."

   "Why are you doing this?" I shrieked as Evan continued the sawing motion above the cut. It was now pouring with scarlet, a fountain of gore. "Evan please don't!"

   It was deep now, the blade disappearing into his forearm with each stroke of the knife. Evan's gaze was still entranced dopily on the space before him, his blue eyes unseeing.

   "Tell him, Aspen," Blackwood repeated, his grip still crushing my shoulders. "You can make him stop."

   "Stop!" I screamed again, feeling furthermore helpless as Evan's blood dropped onto the carpet. Surely people in the rooms nearby would hear my cries, surely someone would come to stop it. Surely this wasn't real.

   Evan cried out in pain as the knife hit some kind of resistance. Maybe his bone.

   "You have to mean it, you have to put feeling to it," Blackwood said passionately by my ear, his words slicing through the scream emanating from Evan.

   "I don't know what you mean," I gasped. "Please stop him. Please. I'll do anything you want."

   "I won't stop it. You need to stop it. You're not even trying." 

   Evan shrieked again, and tears started spilling from my eyes, helplessness making it hard to breathe.

   "Please stop, Evan," I said. I blinked rapidly, and inhaled deeply. "Evan, stop!"

   Though it was subtle, Evan's eyes met mine, faint awareness lingering in his eyes before he resumed the sawing motion. A grinding sound came from where he was slicing.

   "Stop!" I yelled again, and this time his head turned in my direction, pausing again. It was working. I was slightly tapping into whatever madness Blackwood had implanted in him. A hysterical laughter almost bubbled through my chest, but I channelled the hope into my words instead. "Stop, Evan. Drop the knife."

   He continued.

   Desperation seared through me, and I shook free from the grip of Professor Blackwood, stopping myself from turning around and screaming at him. I knew it wouldn't work. He was sick, so twisted and unpredictable that I knew he wouldn't help.

   I had to stop Evan, I couldn't let him keep going. The pain was strong in his features, and though the knife hadn't penetrated much deeper in the most recent seconds that had passed, the wound was now gaping, the fingers of his left arm pooling with blood.

   I concentrated all of my energy into my tone, like Conrad had instructed. I put all of my will into controlling his actions, envisioning myself pulling the strings on a marionette puppet, making him drop the knife, just as Blackwood had made him remove it from his pocket. 

   "Stop."

   Even froze. This time, his eyes bored into mine, and two long seconds flitted by before he moved again, his eyes now fixed to my gaze.

   "Stop it." It wasn't a plea anymore. It wasn't begging, or crying, or screaming. It was calm and simple, like Blackwood's had been when he so nicely asked Evan to begin his gruesome deed.

   The knife fell to the floor, barely recognisable beneath the heavy coat of blood it was covered in.

   Blackwood was silent.

   Evan looked from me, his eyes seemingly glued momentarily, to the knife on the floor, and then to his arm.

   Then he screamed.

   "Amazing," Blackwood said, his voice carrying with it awe. "Amazing."

   "You sick bastard!" I spat, and now tears were pooling down my cheeks as I stepped forward and grabbed Evan before he collapsed to the floor.

   He was unconscious now, either from shock or blood loss or both. I quietly sobbed as I frantically took the fabric which I used to tie my coat from its loops and wrapped it tightly over his upper arm. I was too scared to examine the cut, which was pooled with blood. It was much more than a cut. His arm was half severed.

   "You have a gift, Aspen," Blackwood said, oblivious to the boy lying unconscious on the ground before him. "But with every gift is a curse."

   I wanted to scream at him. He terrified me and disgusted me and had me sick with fear at the same time. I didn't understand what he meant, or what I'd done to break through Evan's haze.

   "I can control you, but you wake up," he mused. "It only works until you realise. Well, for now."

   He could control me. It made a wild shudder pass through my body, almost making me want to vomit.

   "And you can break people who are weakly controlled by me."

   Weakly? Making Evan almost slice off his own arm was only weak control? Fear spiralled through me, but I focused on wrapping Evan's good arm over my shoulder and hoisting him upwards instead. Otherwise I was sure I would shut down on the spot, falling to the ground beside him.

   "Stop," Blackwood said, and he turned to face me fully, his black eyes fixing on me. They were narrowed slightly. Challenging.

   My limbs felt heavy, my feet rooting to the spot. I looked from them and back to Blackwood, my muscles struggling to support Evan, who was bleeding all over my coat. 

   He was making me stop, making my limbs feel as if they were filled with sand. I grunted, pulling them forward. None of this is real.

   "Drop him."

   My fingers tightened their grip on Evan's jumper. But, slowly, one by one, they loosened. And then Evan fell to the floor with a thud.

   "Stop," I said feebly. "Please stop it. Please let us go, you know I won't tell anybody."

   "You won't because I told you not to," he said simply, the flicker of a smile flashing on his face. 

   And then, despite my best efforts to stay awake, my mind blanked. 

   "I thought I was strong," I mumbled. "I thought I was able to stay awake. I thought I saved him."

   "What are you talking about, Aspen?" 

   Sunlight burned against my vision, and I opened my eyes wide. Around me, life moved in streams, like schools of fish navigating through a reef. The clock in the tower nearby was chiming, and against my chest was the weight of my notebooks.

   I blinked, trying to lace together my last thoughts with my present ones. I was standing on the path circling the courtyard, Isaac a few paces in front. I wasn't wearing my blood stained jacket.

   "What..." My words lingered unfinished, and I licked my lips. "What time is it?"

   Isaac looked concerned, like, really concerned. "One o'clock. You're going to chemistry, remember?"

   "Right," I said. I was frightened. I didn't know how I'd gotten from his office to walking down the pathway with Isaac in tow. What had we been talking about? What had I told him?

   "You okay?" he asked. "I thought you seemed brighter than yesterday, but I can see there's still something wrong."

   I squinted in the sun. I felt better. Energy pulsed through my veins, and any fatigue left from my sleepless night had faded.

   But the morning's events still clung to me, wrapping around my skin and seeping through to my bones. "Where's Evan?"

   "Evan?" Isaac asked in confusion. He actually looked half disappointed, as if he were jealous. "You talk to Evan?"

   "Not really." I gave a nervous laugh. I didn't know how I was able to stay so cool about this. "I just - Gia was wondering earlier."

   "Are you sure?" he asked, frowning. "Last I heard her and Bel were trying to find you."

   I frowned. "Where are they?"

   Isaac shrugged, his eyes twinkling with the kind of light amusement that made me feel like I was crazy. Like he was humouring me. "Not sure. I'm not sure where Evan is either, to answer your question."

   I tried to stop myself from showing any reaction, but Isaac must have picked up on my change in expression.

   "Is something wrong?"

   Had he killed him? Would he ever let him go? Was he wherever the broken-armed boy was now?

   "Nothing's wrong," I found myself saying. Was it me saying it, or him?

   With every gift there is a curse.

   Hadn't he told me I could repel him, if I came to the realisation that he was controlling me? Or was that only weak control too?

   Isaac hesitated, looking me up and down before continuing to walk. I matched his pace, wondering what exactly had filled the time. I must have returned to the apartment to get my stationary. Had Gia and Bel been there? Had they found their phones? Were they mad at me?

   Were they under his control too?

   The paranoia ate me up, and sitting in the lecture hall for chemistry only worsened my fear. The innocence of the people surrounding me in the room only ate me up with what I was holding inside. How many people were in danger? There were at least two-hundred in the class. Was he able to control that many people at once?

   Could I control them?

   Could I control him?

   Was this still all one extended hallucination? The memory loss made me question everything. If he could play with my thoughts, then he could make me think anything. And why would he make me feel in control if I had none at all?

   As soon as the lecture had finished, with not one note taken down, I hurried home, skipping past throngs of students and cutting through the forest, hoping at least Gia or Bel would be at the apartment. My sanity, though dwindling, was dependent on them and their safety.

   I was relieved to hear the taps running in the kitchen when I unlocked the door, and I almost sighed with relief. 

   "Aspen!" Bel called when she heard me close the door. 

   She came from the kitchen, hands clad in rubber gloves. "Hey, have you seen my phone?"

   I stared at her blankly for a moment before remembering I was supposed to have lost mine too. "No. Have you seen mine?"

   Bel's face fell in frustration. "Yours too? Oh god, someone robbed us last night. Who knows what else they stole."

   I cringed. "Have you, um, reported it yet?"

   "Yeah, security were no help though." She sighed, pulling off a glove so she could run a hand through her platinum hair. "Who would take our phones?"

   "No idea," I murmured. "Did you, um, go to psych this morning?"

   Isobel looked faraway, but her gaze snapped back to me. "No. I didn't wake up, did you?"

   I shook my head, relief flooding through me in one satisfying wave.

   Then the door opened again, and Gia's greeting fell through the air warmly. "Hey!"

   More relief found me at the thought of both of my friends being safe, here with me. But then I saw what Gia was holding. "Is that my jacket?"

   Gia frowned. "Yeah, you told me to wash it. I managed to get the stains out. Ta da!"

   I froze. Her cheery face didn't register my fear, and she hung it on the rack by the door, humming happily.

   "Anyway, Aspen," Bel continued. "We didn't make it but we swung by Conrad's office and picked up some notes. You should go see him to catch up. He said something about ten tomorrow?"

   Bel looked to Gia for confirmation, her brows furrowed.

   "Yep. Ten tomorrow. Anyway, I'm having a shower."

   Gia pushed past me, but I didn't feel her. I was numb. Whatever control I had found, or relief I had experienced, had been shattered.

   He had control over them too.

side note - did anyone watch the walking dead season 7 premiere? ugh it got sooo close to following down the path of this scene. i was so freaked out. also a side note, that whole episode ruined me.