It had been a few months since he'd been switching. The psychologist had confirmed it. He'd been diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder. His other self not much of a talker and the psychologist had told him that some personalities could be completely different to the host. He'd been told not to push his other self away and to instead embrace and accept him, but Kasey couldn't trust him. He'd killed people.
That was who he was, a killer. He couldn't accept someone who would willingly hurt another for no reason.
No reason? The voice scoffed. It made Kasey flinch.
'then why did you do it?' he thought, although, when he gained no reply, he found himself feeling stupid. 'its not like they're telepathic. Right?'
He couldn't help but wonder what to call them since he couldn't just call them his other self. But he didn't want to get cosy with them either.
'i'll call you klaus.' he thought. 'i don't think it suits me since I have a name. I wanted Klaus to be my superhero name because mister wanted me to be a superhero, but it would be better if you become a superhero.'
Then maybe they'd stop hurting others.
Alright. I'll be the superhero. But don't complain if I steal the spotlight.
He forced himself not to smile. He couldn't think of Klaus as his friend or someone to talk to. Klaus had done something bad, so he'd take this chance to see if he was willing to reform.
There was no exact way to text Klaus unless something were to come up. If Kasey wanted to safely test Klaus, he'd have to make a situation. The only issue was, it would be difficult to hide things from someone who lived in his head that could access his memories while he could not.
But for now, that was a thought for another day. He had a tight schedule due to his random outbursts so they could minister him strictly. The training had gotten more intense and harder to deal with but despite his beaten down body, he was willing to push through to help people. He would become a hero no matter what.
Of course, things didn't always turn out that way. His next therapy session was eerie. Schmidt was in the room with the psychologist today. It made him feel cold and strange.
The way they watched him was different. Goosebumps rose on his arms but he steadied his beating heart and faced them.
"What's going on?"
"We want you to start getting used to the real world now. You've killed several soldiers and agents so wasting valuable resources won't be efficient would it?" The man sounded cold, as if he were talking to a lab rat rather than a child he'd been raising for the past however many years. "You're old enough now. Strong enough. Bring out the prisoners."
The double doors behind him opened to a pristine white room with a glass wall on the far end. Behind the glass were several men strapped onto chairs, holding them down to watch the spectacle before them wether they wanted to or not. It would take a fool to not notice what he intended to do.
He wanted to make the prisoners watch what would happen to them. He wanted Kasey to kill these men.
"Don't hold back. These men aren't good men. They're rapists, murderers and convicts." He whispered quietly to Kasey's ear, but he was too busy watching in horror as one of the men were unstrapped and yanked out of the chair by his hair until he was dragged into the white gladitorium.
"Please-! Help me! I-I have a wif-" the soldier dragging him brutally kicked his gut, making him wrench out all the contents of his stomach. The man was about to kick again but Kasey couldn't watch any longer.
