The city glimmers with streaks of neon as we navigate through the throngs, Sasha's grip on my hand feeling like a vital connection. Every instinct urges me to shield her, to find sanctuary amid this concrete labyrinth. Yet the dark passenger lurks in the recesses of my mind, a relentless undercurrent of anxiety and fear. It thrives on the disorder, gnawing at my resolve with each step we take.
Sasha falters, her eyes wide and glazed with fatigue. I draw her closer, forcing down the quiver in my own limbs. "Take it easy, we're nearly there," I whisper, the words bitter on my tongue. But where is "there"? Even I am unsure. The passenger murmurs sinister temptations, each darker than the last, each a betrayal of my own promises.
The atmosphere buzzes with a palpable tension, a cacophony of honking cars and distant sirens. Each shadow seems to twist unnaturally, every passerby a potential threat. I can feel the passenger's insatiable appetite growing, its urgency becoming a living presence in my head. It yearns to burst forth, to wreak havoc in this city, and terrifyingly, a part of me craves that release. Craves the surrender to the void, to let it envelop me completely.
But Sasha's hand in mine is my anchor, a reminder of the humanity I'm fighting to preserve. For her sake, I must resist. For her, I must keep the beast within contained, even if just for a fleeting moment longer.
As we near the derelict building, I sense fate thrumming beneath my skin. The structure is decaying, much like the sanity I grasp so desperately. I pause at the entrance, the gravity of my impending actions weighing heavily on me. "This place… it's a hidden gem, Sasha. A secluded part of the city where we can speak freely, away from the world's clamor."
Her expression turns to one of confusion, yet she steps inside, drawn by my words. The stale air is heavy with the scent of rot. Shadows loom across the floor, and I can almost hear the echoes of forgotten stories resonating in the silence. Here, I am both the thinker and the hunter, wrestling with the duality of my identity.
As she ventures deeper into the gloom, I observe her, my heart burdened by conflicting thoughts. "You know, life presents us with choices," I begin, my tone deceptively calm. "Every decision carves out a path that defines who we become. You, Sasha… you've complicated my journey."
Her eyes widen as understanding dawns, the fear creeping in like the shadows enveloping us. "V, what are you talking about?" she stammers, but I can see the realization settle in her expression.
"I'm saying that to safeguard what we cherish, sometimes we must make painful sacrifices. You are obstructing my mission, my responsibility" My voice cools, sharp as the dark passenger stirs, urging me onward.
"No, don't do this—" she begs, but the darkness within me surges, drowning out her pleas. The moment stretches, revealing the path ahead. There's an unsettling clarity amid this chaos, a twisted rationale compelling me to act.
With a sudden motion, I advance, the passenger breaking free as I silence her objections. In that fleeting moment, I am transformed; I am not just V but also the culmination of my darkest inclinations, the monster who has stepped into the abyss.
As silence blankets the building, I find myself alone, the reverberations of my decision echoing in the stillness. I have eliminated the hindrance, convinced I've done what is vital to protect Lucy. The burden of my actions weighs heavily on me, but deep within my psyche, the passenger purrs with contentment, reminding me that I have embraced the darkness that defines my essence.
I return to the dorm as the night drapes the campus in quiet shadows, feeling the familiar weight of duty. Each step is deliberate, yet soundless, as though my own footsteps would betray what lurks within me. I close the door softly behind me. The room is dim, a sanctuary where two worlds collide—the one Lucy knows and the one I keep hidden, wrapped in darkness.
The memory of Sasha's eyes haunts me, those once-beautiful green orbs now lost in a sea of oblivion. The passenger—my passenger—is sated, momentarily quiet, humming in the back of my mind like a distant, threatening storm. What I did tonight wasn't about rage or vengeance. It was calculated, vital, an act of protection. I had to eliminate the threat. She was never important in her own right; she was a symbol, a sacrifice in a larger game, one I never wanted to play but am bound to.
I did it for Lucy.
Everything I do is for her. Sasha's blood—her life—became the price to pay for Lucy's safety, even if she'll never know it. And maybe that's for the best. She deserves to be free from the knowledge of what I am, of what I carry inside me. Her innocence is a shield, her ignorance a gift I give her each day I pretend to be normal.
Dragging Sasha's body had felt surreal. She was lighter than I expected. A body once filled with life, stripped of all it had been. Wrapping her in the black bag was almost ritualistic, like burying an idea rather than a person. Her eyes—those emerald eyes that once saw me, judged me—are hidden now, behind a mask of anonymity. Another casualty of what I have to become.
There's no cure for what I am, no fixing the darkness that shapes my existence. I can't erase the passenger, but I can control it. I can give it what it needs to keep Lucy safe. That's all that matters.
The door to Lucy's room is slightly ajar. I pause, listening to her soft breathing, ensuring that she is still here, still safe, still untouched by the evil that hovers so close to her without her ever knowing. I would kill for her. I have. But I wonder, with a sliver of doubt, how long I can keep this balance. How long I can keep the darkness contained before it spills over.
For now, though, the world remains in order. Sasha is gone. Lucy is safe. And the passenger... well, for tonight, it sleeps, content in the shadows of my soul.
I turn the key gently in the lock, the quiet click reverberating through the stillness of the hallway. My body moves on autopilot as I push the door open, and the cool air of the dorm hits my skin. It's peaceful here, a kind of peace that seems foreign after the chaos of tonight. But peace is just an illusion, a thin veil over the darkness that pulses beneath the surface. I've learned to live within that illusion, to play the part. It's all for her.
Lucy's light snores drift from her side of the room. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. She's still here, still safe, blissfully unaware of what has transpired. I step quietly, avoiding the creaky floorboard by the bed as I make my way to the desk. I drop my bag in the corner and slide into my chair, facing away from her. For a moment, I just sit there, staring into the shadows, letting the weight of the night settle in.
Sasha.
I close my eyes, and her face is there again, the vivid green of her eyes, wide with shock, with fear, as the blade kissed her throat. I didn't hesitate. It wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last. But it wasn't easy either, not in the way most people think. Taking a life, ending someone's existence—that's not something you do without feeling. No, the feeling is there. It's always there. The question is whether you embrace it or let it consume you.
The passenger stirred as I stood over her, that familiar voice whispering in the back of my mind, coaxing, urging me to act. It always knows the right words, always knows how to push just enough. But I wasn't mindless, not a puppet on strings. I chose this. I chose to end her life because she was a threat, and I couldn't let her jeopardize what I'm building here, the façade I've so carefully constructed.
Lucy shifts in her bed, a soft murmur escaping her lips, and I turn my head slightly, watching her. She's always so peaceful when she sleeps, so utterly detached from the world that consumes me. She's the reason for all of this, the reason I continue to maintain the delicate balance between what I am and what the world thinks I am. She can never know the truth. She would never understand. But that's not her fault. It's mine. I've built these walls, erected these barriers, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her on the right side of them.
Sasha wasn't supposed to be involved, but she became a complication, and complications don't last long in my world. I had seen the way she looked at me, the way her curiosity turned to suspicion. She wasn't like the others—easily manipulated, easily dismissed. No, she saw through the cracks in my armor, saw something deeper. Maybe it was my intelligence that tipped her off, the way I sometimes let it slip, just for a moment, a brief flash of the mind behind the mask. Or maybe it was something else, something darker.
It doesn't matter now.
What matters is that she's gone, and Lucy is safe.
I lean back in the chair, letting the silence wash over me. My thoughts drift, unmoored, wandering through the labyrinth of my mind. I think back to the first time I felt it—the passenger. I was young, too young to understand what it was, but I knew, even then, that there was something inside me that didn't belong. Something dark, something hungry. At first, I tried to fight it, tried to push it away, to suppress the thoughts that crept in at the edges of my consciousness. But the more I fought, the stronger it became, until one day, I realized the truth.
The passenger isn't separate from me. It is me.
That's when everything changed. I stopped fighting. I stopped pretending that I was something I wasn't. Instead, I learned to control it, to harness it. The darkness became my ally, a tool I could use to shape the world around me. And in return, I gave it what it wanted. It's a symbiotic relationship, really. The passenger feeds off the chaos, off the violence, and in return, it keeps me sharp, keeps me focused. It helps me protect Lucy.
Lucy.
Her name is like a mantra, a constant tether to the world of light, the world I've convinced myself I still belong to. I wonder, sometimes, what she would think if she knew the truth. Would she run? Would she scream? Would she look at me the way Sasha did, with that mix of horror and disbelief? No. I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe from me, even if that means hiding the worst parts of myself from her forever.
I stand, moving to the window. The campus is quiet, bathed in the pale glow of the streetlights. It's almost peaceful, this moment between the end of one life and the continuation of another. But I know it's temporary. The peace never lasts. There will be more like Sasha, more complications, more threats. And I'll deal with them, just as I always have.
A part of me wonders how long I can keep this up, how long I can continue walking this tightrope between light and dark. But it doesn't matter. As long as Lucy is safe, I'll do whatever it takes. The passenger hums in agreement, satisfied for now, content to let me have this moment of calm. But I know it won't last. It never does.
I pull the curtain shut and move back to my bed, lying down carefully, listening to the rhythmic sound of Lucy's breathing. It's almost enough to lull me into a false sense of security, but I know better. There's always a storm on the horizon, always another threat lurking just beyond the edge of perception.
I close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come easily. My mind drifts, replaying the events of the night over and over, dissecting every moment, every decision. Did I leave any loose ends? Any signs that could point back to me? No. I'm careful. I've always been careful. But even the most meticulous plans can unravel if you're not paying attention.
The passenger stirs again, restless, reminding me that this is far from over. Sasha was just one piece of a much larger puzzle, one that I've only just begun to assemble. There are others, people who will inevitably cross my path, people who will threaten the fragile balance I've worked so hard to maintain. And when they do, I'll be ready.
But for now, I allow myself this moment of stillness, this brief respite before the storm. Lucy shifts in her bed again, murmuring softly in her sleep, and I feel a strange sense of contentment. She's here. She's safe. And as long as I have control, as long as I keep the passenger at bay, she'll stay that way.
I wonder, though, how long I can continue to play this role, to be the dutiful roommate, the quiet intellectual hiding in plain sight. How long before someone else starts to notice the cracks, starts to see the darkness I keep so carefully hidden? It's inevitable, really. No mask is perfect. But until that day comes, I'll keep playing my part, keep doing what I must to protect the only person who matters.
The passenger purrs softly in the recesses of my mind, satisfied for now. But I know better than to think it will stay that way. It's always waiting, always watching, ready to surface the moment I let my guard down.
But I won't. Not ever.
For Lucy.
The thought brings a strange sense of calm, and finally, sleep begins to pull me under. The darkness is comforting, familiar, and I let it wrap around me as I drift into unconsciousness. The last thing I hear before sleep claims me is the steady rhythm of Lucy's breathing, a quiet reminder of what I'm fighting for.
And what I'm willing to become.