Chapter Text
Another morning.
Another tournament.
As per ritual he opened his eyes to face that of a mirror. A mirror placed above his bed, and there he would see not just himself. No. There were two others. There was another man who had facial hair, scars, and hands that always were bruised. Another was a far softer complexion. One who seemed to still retain youth, and bouncy curls. They were curled up to him. Each shoulder a placement for their heads. They were sound asleep, but he himself was not.
He was alone.
They slumber, so he takes this moment for solitude. He would climb out of his lonely bed to try and enjoy the peace while he could. Let the voices sleep for a while more. Let him have peace. Just for a little while.
It’s been like this since his mother died. The moment he found her corpse it was a light switch. All her trauma and abuse came to a boiling point. Her death was blamed onto him. Not by the cops. Not by the doctors. Not by anyone.
Only her.
That moment on there were voices. There was one who spoke kindly, and comforted him when the tears were to heavy. There was another that gave him a voice to roar over those who opposed him. There was kindness. There was rage. They balanced him. They took care of him. They were there when no one else was. They gave him a chance to live.
But live as himself was not on the list.
There were days where his mind was in a cloud. He would blink, and it had been a full week where there was no memory at all. He would blink again and there was blood on his hands. Blink. Blink. Blink. His life was just nothing but a picture book. Moments he knows happen, but never truly grasp. A child that could not read, but the words stared right at him.
It was hell.
It was hell for all of them.
That was how he ended up in medical school. He just….he needed answers. They all needed answers. With their help he was able to be brilliant in ways no one could understand. No one understood how he could be so empathetic yet cold. Understand languages he has never heard of. He was seen as brilliant. He was seen as a good example.
He wasn’t seen suffering.
A splash of cold water to his face, and his eyes to the bathroom mirror. A rare moment where he didn’t see either men. He savored those moments. Moments where he was the only one looking back. Tired eyes, curls that were in need of a wash, five o clock shadow, scars, blotchy skin, just a man in a constant state of a war. Will he ever return home?
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Who’s at the door-?” That soft voice spoke.
“We don’t expect company. Can’t be anyone good. I’ll handle it.” The more aggressive said.
“No. I just woke up….Let….Let me do something on my own…..Go back to bed. Please….” He begged the voices. Just…..A moment….
They were silent, but he knew they were watching. Each eye was for their own devices. His vision was theirs. His voice theirs. Everything was theirs.
The scientist would quickly throw a robe over his sleep wear and made the journey down his massive set of stairs. A castle it was. No better place for his work. Private. No one comes to bother the man in the castle. Not unless they were in truly at their ropes end, or worse. They were looking for him.
Another set of bangs rung from the door. It made his head shake with its agonizing ring. His sensitive he was when voices always filled his head. He was in need of a drink, and the sun wasn’t even rising.
“I’m coming! I’m coming! It’s so early!” He complained, before he would yank the door open. The sight wasn’t anything he could ever prepare for.
There before him was a man in pure black. A closed off coat that ended where the boots of his reached. A blade was on his hip, and his posture straight. Skin as deep as a hickory tree in the rain. Hair tight in its texture with a distinct line of white down from it and across his beard and stache. All that wasn’t what was strange. Not the weapon, nor the black attire.
It was the black veil across his eyes. It was as if a blindfold. The delicate designs of floral obscured those who looked at him. He couldn’t make out the eyes. Despite that, the man seemed to clearly have no issue viewing out it.
“Doctor Marc Spector?”
Even his voice was as earthy as the scent he carried. There was a coldness of fresh snow on cobblestone. It was not of anger or agony. It was neutral. It was calm. Like a storm.
“Yeah…..That’s me….Uh….Can I help you? Pretty damn early in the morning. Especially to make a trip all the way here for me…..”
“I have my reasons….I was informed that you’ve been spotted late night at the graveyards. Care to explain?”
“Marc! We’re screwed!”
“I’m gonna sock this man in the face-!”
The voices. No no. He can’t let them win. He can’t. This can be fixed. This can be explained. He can talk his way out of this. He can handle it.
“Now why would I be at graveyards? I hardly have time from my work to even go get food for myself. You made the distance as well. A journey to my estate is far from short. I bet it was one of my ‘fellow’ men of science. Even as early as school they were burdening me.”
The man before him gave a thoughtful nod, before seeming to….smell the air…..
“Apologies if this seems invasive, but might I ask what exactly you are working on?”
“It’s going to be a trap!”
“Let me at him! He can’t know! He WONT KNOW!”
“It’s a private funding, unfortunately. I can’t say much. Even if I wanted to.”
“Hm…..”
“Makes me sound more suspicious, doesn’t it?”
“Perhaps.”
“Marc! He’s going to-“
“Silencio, Steven!”
“No YOU shut up, Jake!”
“Mr. Spector? You alright?” The man seemed to notice that Marc was stressed. Heavily stressed, and eyes unfocused. Hand to his head as he tried to focus.
“Apologies Mr….-?”
“Brooks.”
“Brooks. Late nights, early mornings, migraines….”
“My fault for arriving so early. I hope you understand why I must ask these questions. It can be rather terrifying witnessing a man dig up bodies. Especially when said bodies are missing parts, or simply gone entirely. Leaves quite a panic.”
Shit. He must have been sloppy. Well, someone had been sloppy. It was either him or Jake. Steven couldn’t handle the bodies. Too much blood and he goes dominant. Him and Jake must have been sloppy. The fatigue is catching up. He was spotted and now he needed to find a way to knock him off his trail. Fast.
“Hell, you got me worried now. I live in a literal fortress and now you make me want to check my locks. As I said, I hardly have time to even collect my needs when I leave once a week. As much as I can say on the project, it certainly doesn’t require bodies. It’s about the brains. For work like that it tends to require people to be alive for me to study. Hard to understand a brain when activity is dead.”
Brooks gave another nod at that. Understood what he was saying perfectly.
“Wonder why he has that veil over his eyes….”
“Religious reasons?”
“Marc, can you ask? Please? I’m curious!”
With a deep breath he would obey the command.
“Since you are asking me questions, how about I ask you one. What’s with the fabric?” Marc asked, as he motioned to his own eyes.
“I have a light sensitivity. It can be quite extreme. I genuinely see better with this over my eyes than with out.”
“Fascinating…….Might I inquire more?”
“…..Perhaps I’ll entertain your research another time. You weren’t the only person suspected of the graveyard incident. I have a long day ahead of myself. Please, pardon me. May your research go smoothly.”
Brooks gave a bow before turning and walking away. Just this perfect black shape amongst the scenery that he called his home.
“You two need to be more careful. We can’t get bodies if you end up in jail. Or worse!”
“Steven’s right. We need to be more careful. We now have Tall Dark and Handsome on us now, mijo.”
They had to be careful. They will never succeed if they become careless. Steven and Jake will never finally leave his head if the bodies never get finished. They were still so far away from success, but the light at the end of the tunnel was there. They had hope
They just had to make sure the hope wasn’t snuffed out by Mr. Nosey…..