The creature hungered. Unable to maintain its energy on the food provided within Arkham it began to struggle, to attack, to push. Until eventually it created a hole through the wall of the asylum and ran out into the night. Although the brain of its human host was nowhere to be found in this state, familiarity was a subconscious phenomenon, it began to make its way back to the lab.
*He took a sigh, bringing the mug to his lips to take a sip. He paused, remembering his manners and clinked the ceramic gently against the fish tank.*
"Cheers, Aichmophobia."
*He brought the mug to his lips to a sip of his water... imagining he was drinking something warm, having never had a heated drink before.*
*He froze. His ears pricked. There was a creak. Not the usual rotting boards settling into the foundation of the warehouse. No, it was movement. It was something living.*
*He placed the mug on the counter, and slowly crouched onto all-fours, slinking his way into the great, sprawling loading dock area. When he reached the room, he pressed his back against a corner wall, slowly coming to his feet and putting his hand on his Mauser. He might not have been a sharps-shooter, like Arkham, but he was a quick-draw.*
*He rapidly squinted and widened his eyes, uselessly imitating the zooming lens of a camera, trying to adjust to the pitch-black darkness all around him.*
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Okay so, I went over König's more serious phobias in the last post, but what about fears he can't really explain? These aren't things that will make him breakdown or have an anxiety attack, but he just straight up doesn't like them.
Now, some of these are pretty reasonable, but there's a couple that are just bizarre. Like the last post, I'm typing them out alphabetically, but I'm giving them a number ranking to indicate how much these phobias bother him. The ones that just make him uneasy are rated as a 1, but the ones that will make his stomach drop to his feet are rated at a 5. He may not have a full panic attack, but don't be surprised if he does.
Again, these are just the phobias that König is weird about. To call them phobias is honestly an overstatement, but it sums it up nicely. I guess you could say these are his mild, strange fears.
Fears listed under the cut.
2 Aichmophobia: Fear of needles or pointed objects
König is such a little bitch about needles. I'm sorry, but he is. He has to be put under whenever they have to stitch him up. He's totally uncompliant otherwise. The thing is, he can stitch others, he can inject others, but if someone comes near him with a needle he freaks.
When König was a kid, it was a nightmare taking him to the doctor. They did everything possible to get him to calm down, but he was inconsolable. This poor little boy had to get restrained a few times just to be given needles, and this probably made his fear just that much worse.
For all of his tattoos, he's had to go under. No seriously. He's not afraid of the pain, he's just really scared of needles. He loves his tattoos, he'd go under any day of the week to get them done again, but he must go under. No ifs ands or buts about that.
Please don't tease him about it. He's actually a bit insecure about this.
2 Angrophobia: Fear of anger
Let's get something clear; König is not afraid of you when you're angry. He's afraid of himself when he's angry. He absolutely hates getting angry because he saw what people could be like when they're angry. He's done things in anger that he's not proud of (on the battlefield).
When König gets angry, he does his very best to calm himself down to be reasonable and rationale. He won't hurt a fly, but he still gets scared that one day, he'll snap. He is terrified of the day he snaps.
When you're as big as König, imagine the sheer amount of damage you can do if you lose control. 6'10 and over 250 lb of rage and fury. It's terrifying to consider what he could do. So please, don't try and make him angry, don't try and make him snap. He genuinely hates being angry, and he wants you to respect that wish.
4 Catoptrophobia: Fear of mirrors
Okay now this one has a very good reason, or so he claims. When König was about four, his eldest brother, Friedrich, told him to be careful around mirrors. Poor unsuspecting König asked why, and his brother told him that spirits live on the other side. He then proceeded to 'prove it' by putting König in the bathroom with only a candle for light. He told König to stare at his reflection and wait.
Soon enough, König was pounding on the bathroom door and begging to be let out, but Friedrich held the door closed and laughed at him. His older sister Lisa had to intervene to get König out.
König loves Friedrich (now), but he still holds this against his brother. Now, whenever Friedreich complains about being the shortest son (at 6'7), König sniffs and says that it serves him right.
1 Nosocomephobia: Fear of hospitals
König is weird about hospitals. He just really doesn't like them. They make him feel weird. He's been in them plenty, but he still doesn't like them. He's nice to the staff, but he really wishes he could punch them and escape like some wild animal. Hutch tells him to get his shit together. König thinks he's rude.
But yeah, that about rounds up König's weird fears. If you guys have any other ideas of what this guy would be afraid of, please tell me! Or, if you'd like, I'd be happy to write a short blurb based on his fears.
Oh, and while I'm at it, don't look at yourself in a mirror for too long in dim light. It's weird.
Strange face illusions describe a range of visual apparitions that occur when an observer gazes at their image reflected in a mirror or at a
In normal observers, gazing at one's own face in the mirror for a few minutes, at a low illumination level, produces the apparition of stran
“Do you even know who you are?” He's an older man, older than I am at least. Face angled and worn by the weight of his decisions. He's standing there so patiently by his desk, refined and dignified, standing a bit taller than I, I can tell that much from where I stand in the shadowy doorway.
I unsheath the knife I've been hiding. “O-oh. You're in one of those moods again, ha ha! Look, everything is gone! Everything is done! This isn't real, I assure you, you've gone and destroyed it all-” and that's when I begin chasing him around this old building.
I just felt so angry, and I can't even remember why. The emotion was there at its peak, and no coherent thoughts were driving it. He was scared of me. ‘That's good’, was what I thought. ‘Now let's give him a show.’ I couldn't find him at that point. This man was.. actually pretty fast, and something hollow in my ribs were aching, so I just began trashing the office, up heaving files and whatever else I could reach because I just knew he was watching me like he always does.
It's scary when you find yourself being vindictive, just for the sake of being vindictive. I'm not sure if remembering would make me feel any more justified in the actions I took, but I remember all at once, the answer came to me on where he was hiding. He was hiding in storage, and he knew that I knew. I drew it out; my walking down to the storage room. I dragged the knife along the walls to listen to the sound of it, so he knew I was getting closer. I wanted him to know everything that was about to happen.
“Why do I get the feeling you're trying to hide from me?” My voice dropped to a husky falsetto as I reached the door of storage, and gazed upon his frightful form. “I always knew you wouldn't let it happen, deep down. I'm sorry you still feel so strongly about it.” He tries to placate me, feed into my sympathies. He screams when I drop the knife down into his collar bone. I don't remember straddling him, or when he got on the floor, but I kept stabbing. At his face, at his eyes. I kept thinking,
’I want you to stop looking at me, I want you to stop looking at me. Stop. Stop. Stop.’
This may have been due to the fact he maintained eye contact with me the whole time..I was frenzied and wild and when it was over, when I really knew I became a monster–
Was when I sat back on my haunches and felt blank. So terribly blank. Do you even know who you are, was what he asked. I don't know.
(because there was at least 1 person who wanted to read it)
In creative writing class, I wrote a story.
The prompt was "Land of _____," and just before the class, we were talking about phobias. My mind went to "Land of Phobias."
Even I'm a bit scared about what came out. So naturally, I have to share it with all of you.
CONTENT WARNINGS: PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR, SCOPOPHOBIA (fear of being watched), INSECTOPHOBIA (fear of insects), MINOR CLAUSTROPHOBIA, MINOR HELIOPHOBIA (fear of the sun), AGORAPHOBIA, ARACHNOPHOBIA, TRYPOPHOBIA, TRYPANOPHOBIA(fear of needles), MENTIONS OF BUGS, MENTIONS OF NEEDLES, MENTIONS OF REPTILES
It’s funny, really. You would expect a land of phobia to look scary. Monstrous hills, evil people, dark landscape. Maybe screams every few miliseconds. Somewhere where you might expect to see an evil empress or even freaking Sauron.
What you notice first is the quiet. The unbroken quiet. It isn’t completely silent, mind you. Just your footsteps and your breaths. It’s like one of those places. What are they called? Anechoic chambers. It’s like an anachoic chamber, except really big.
That’s the next thing you notice. The vastness of it. It’s flat, completely flat, stretching for miles around. Maybe you’re walking on concrete, or maybe you’re on linoleum tiles. Either way, it’s mind-numbingly flat and boring. There are no walls around you. The sky above is blue, not a cloud in sight.
Okay, you might think, this is not so bad. Just keep walking, it’s all empty space. So you walk. And you walk. And you walk.
And then it starts.
Your hands start shaking. Your eyes flit around, searching for something. You have the feeling that you’re being watched. But that’s ridiculous, right? You’re alone, right?
Right?
You keep walking. Your legs itch. Are there things climbing on them? No, when you look down your legs are fine. But you can feel them. Skittering up and down your legs, burrowing into your skin, leaving holes. So many little holes. You look again. Your legs are fine, smooth as you pull up the legs of your pants. The feeling mostly goes away, but you can still feel them. Spiders on your skin. Needles in your bones. Reptiles climbing up and down your arms. All biting, poking, burrowing, leaving so many tiny little holes.
The landscape is still flat, so very flat. The sky is blue, so very blue. The quiet is that, so so so very quiet. And yet, even n this wide open space, you feel like you’re being closed in. You walk and walk, invisible walls closing around you, fast but not fast enough. The sun prickles your neck. Or is it the insects, climbing your back, making more little holes?
There is so much nothing, and yet so much everything. The landscape doesn’t warp, doesn’t change, just goes on forever and forever and forever. Your body itches with so many holes, your heart is going haywire, your eyes flit among the horizon, and your legs just keep moving on autopilot. The worst part is, you know it’s not real, it’s just your imagination.
Is it, though? Is it just a hallucination?
In the end, the land of phobia fits its name. Phobia is not fear. Fear is terror, screaming, maybe even running and crying. It is dark shadows and evil people and unclimbable hills. What this is? Just you, your brain, the flat landscape, and the unbroken blue sky.
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"Morning, Donald." Leo greeted his twin in crime, merging into the kitchen, working on the kettle to boil water for his tea.
"Yeah, you too." Donnie took a small sip of his usual black coffee, rubbing at his eyes to rid of sleep. The two soon were joined by the younger turtle, who began rummaging for the bread.
"You guys care for some toast, too?" Mikey asked, "I assume Leo wants his extra burnt?"
"Heh, you're hilarious, Miguel." The red-eared slider scoffed, slightly unamused. Donnie had to giggle at this inside joke until the box turtle pulled out a small kitchen knife from the drawer, and that giggle faded away. Mikey hummed away, taking a few slices out of the loaf, setting them aside. He went for the knife again, but it somehow slipped out of his grasp, hurtling towards the floor. Mikey managed to catch it in time only to yank his hand back with a sharp hiss; he had grabbed the end with the blade, blood beginning to trickle through his fingers.
"Whoa, Mikey!" Leo had rushed over to tend to his baby brother's aid. Donnie would've done the same but ended up grasping at his bare shell instead.
Shredder's growls filled his ear holes, hands slashing like mad at the softshell's back. Blood spewed out and painted the area around them brightly red. Donnie could do nothing but wail in pain, his hands covering his head doing very little to protect him. Felt worse than a thousand paper cuts, just digging into his flesh. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, could hardly cry out anymore, but he could hear someone shouting out to him. It couldn't be Leo; he was supposed to be assisting dad. Why would he…?
"…Donnie. Donnie, please, say something! Donnie, look at me!"
"Huh…?" Purple had to double-check his surroundings once he slowly snapped out of it. He had curled into himself against the kitchen floor. His breathing had been quick and panicked, and he felt his face wet from tears. His vision began to clear as Leo came into view, no doubt highly worried for his brother. Mikey stood a distance, looking fearful and clutching a cool cloth around his injury. Oh no, it happened again; it just had to happen again.
"Oh, thank god, Donnie. How're you feeling? Talk to me."
Donatello sighed a shaky sigh, slowly getting to his feet with Leon still holding onto him to help with support. "It's… it's fine, I, this isn't the first time, Leo."
Red-eared slider and box siblings shared a concerned look as Blue replied, "Why don't you head for the den and lay down for a bit? Breakfast will take a while to get ready."
"Nardo-"
"Donnie, please, for our sake…?"
The softshell wanted to protest somewhat but seeing the seriousness in his twin's blue gaze and the building guilt in Mikey's, he didn't have much of choice. With a small 'thank you.' to Leo and another 'it's okay, not your fault.' to Mikey, Donnie made his way for the living room, hugging himself tightly. He had to do something about this, but it wouldn't be easy.
