trust my mercy [slaveatthegates||fuzzybrowss]
He was living in a nightmare.
Watching his hands - they weren't his hands anymore - destroy everything he had fought to protect. Hearing his voice - it was so broken and battered it wasn't his either - spit hate and resentment to those he died trying to protect. He thought opening all the gates would have solved everything. It would bring peace and there would be honor in his death.
He had never been more wrong in his life.
He couldn't even cross over, trapped inside his own body without any hope of ever getting out. He was nothing more than a thought, a lingering presence locked inside his own mind. He had his memories here; images and fragments of friends and family and his own life, but nothing more.
Manifested as a working body, the hands he could look at in this thought-space were nothing more than his own projection, a meager attempt to give him some peace. But he knew he was no longer a living, breathing person. He hadn't heard his own heartbeat in weeks.
The black space his made-up body occupied was no bigger than his old bedroom; he could pace back and forth but not go beyond. Every so often, he could see out, he could feel but not touch; now, he watched as familiar bandaged hands pummeled an unknown ninja into submission. And still they kept on. Fist after fist, blood bursting to stain the already sullied wrappings around pulsating red fingers. A feeble cry of mercy. He could feel bones crunch.
No matter how much he screamed, no matter how much he begged, he just wouldn't stop.
❝Please! PLEASE STOP THIS!❞ he pounded on what must have been the insides of his own mind, an invisible wall that kept him in this place like the cell of a cage. His voice went horase, and still he screamed, a desperate attempt to make the energy that had claimed him heed his words, ❝I cannot take this anymore, I cannot...Please, please stop. You must stop! This is still my body and you cannot do this-!❞