"You're going to die!"
"I'm going to kill you!"
"I'll watch you suffer!"
"Your life is over!"
"I despise you!"
"I never trusted you!"
"You let me die!"
"Why didn't you look for me?!"
"I'm so alone!"
"Why?!"
"You're dead."

Jean screamed as the voice clawed at his mind like nails tearing at his flesh, over and over it spoke the same terrifying words to him. The voice would not stop, it became faster, louder, stronger.... Until it simply vanished. Alone and confused, Jean felt his body collapse with fear. As he lay lifeless on a polished floor darker than black, his hands shook, red droplets twinkled down his face in the shadows. A mist the colour of midnight hung thickly in the air, Jean struggled to breathe as it tightened around his lungs.

Nothing had ever frightened him more than the voice had, it continued to echoe in the back of his mind like a broken record player. Jean wailed, covering his face with his hands as he sulked, climbing on to his knees. The voice, he new who the voice belonged to.

It was Marco's.

I'm sorry! I'm sorry Marco, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, forgive me, I'm sorry! Jean cried a rain of scarlet tears, Marco, I swear if I could go back and do it again I'd have followed you! I didn't see you leave, I thought... Jean felt his heart throb as he continued, I thought you were right next to me...

The voice, or 'Marco' didn't answer. Silence reigned over the empty kingdom. Jean continued to cry, his sanity broken, a once beautiful vase, shattered.

|Moments pasted, soon minutes and what seemed like hours... Jean still did not move.|

Marco gasped wide awake from a mostly peaceful slumber, he had fallen unintentionally asleep. He felt his spine burn, it was back again. The feeling, the horrid emotions, the agony. Marco felt the sensation pry his mouth open with his own hand, at once words began to poor out.

"I wish you would die!"

What? No!

"I hate you!"

No I don't!

"I'll kill you myself!"

I'd never do anything to harm you, ever!

Marco thrashed against the side of Jean's bed, desperate to free himself of whatever held him. The spirit made no noise as it fought a soundless battle, J-Jean! I promise it's not- it's not me! Marco tried to stand, maybe if he left Jean's room, his friend wouldn't have to hear the awful things vomiting out of his mouth.

-Thunk-

The world span. A vortex of brown and black smudges became all that Marco could see as he fell unconscious, not even sure of what had hit him over his skull. He only new what ever had done it, was blunt and rather heavy.
~~~

"Get up."

Everything hurt. Marco groaned, curling into a ball as pain exploded from his head like sharp needles. When he opened his eye, the splintered wood of the cadets' dorm was no more, instead, the ground was black and sleek, polished like stone. The air was almost a shadowy mist that couldn't decide wether it wanted to be become fog or not, at moments Marco couldn't even see.

"Get up."

Nothing made sense. Marco froze, like his body was incased in crystal. T-that v-voice...

"Get up." It snarled again, angrier this time. How?! Is this even possible!?

"Get up, get up, get up, get up, GET UP!"

It didn't understand what it did wrong. Marco's pushed himself up right, ignoring the searing pain that shot like fireworks as best he could. He was afraid, no terrified.

That voice... no... it can't be!

"W-who are you?" Marco spoke wearily as he struggled to stand with only one hand, "W-what do you want with Jean and I?"

"I want to kill you, and him."

It only new it had failed. Marco spun around quicker than he thought possible to face the voice, he almost fainted at the sight of the person frowning behind him. I didn't want to believe it... but that voice... it really is my own!...

Marco was looking directly at himself, this version however, was fully intact without any body parts missing. The look alike balled its fist and swung at the remaining side of Marco's face. Marco, still injured and in a state of shock had no time to react. The fist made impact, sending him flying back towards the ground. Marco landed hard, but somehow managed to stay conscious.

"You failure!" It spat as it loomed over Marco like a hawk does to its prey, "You weren't meant to tell him bed time stories, you were meant to kill him.... then I... I would have finished you myself!"

Why had it failed? Marco whimpered, he didn't understand at all. How was he supposed to kill Jean if he couldn't even touch him? Who was this person, why did they look him?

"I-I don't-"

"What went wrong?..."

It was ashamed. Marco stopped trying to stand, the immense pain from the fist and the blunted object added together were too much for him.

Everything went dark.