Hidden Mysteries

Demon in my Head

AN: Warnings for blood, vomit (emetophobia), and implied death (it's not real but. gotta tag it.)
Shit is getting real, everyone!

Blood. Blood on my hands, my clothes, the lenses of my glasses, all around me. I glance down at my crimson-soaked palms, tears streaming down my face. My heart is pounding, I can't register anything in my mind at all, the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest echoing in my head, my breathing sounding almost as loud as screams to me.

"You're seeing all of this, right, Testy?" Merripen's voice can be heard all around me, despite the fact that they're nowhere to be seen. "You know, it's never too late to come to my side..."

"I said no," I say firmly, clenching my fists. "I'm not getting involved in your side of things."

"You can deny the inevitable all you want, dear," Merripen's voice singsongs. "But you'll give in eventually. Especially if you want to keep him safe!"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bloodied and bruised Fan collapsed at my feet, his glasses shattered and bent, his body limp as his eyes stared up at me, blank and unblinking.

"Fan?" I gasp, staring down at him as I scoop him into my arms. "Fan! Oh no no no no no, please be okay, please be okay! Fan, come on, wake up!"

I gasp sharply, jolting up in bed and panting heavily, tears streaming down my face. I grasp for my glasses, shoving them on my face as I glance around my room, trying to steady my breathing.

You're okay, Test Tube. You're okay, I remind myself. You're in your room, in your house. You're not covered in blood and crying in the middle of God knows where, and Fan's sleeping in his room next door. Everything is—

My train is thought is interrupted as I suddenly burst into a coughing fit. I cover my mouth with my hands, hacking up something cold and wet. I move my hand away from my mouth, staring down at the black gunk in my hand.

Ah. Of course.

As far as Fan and Lightbulb knew, I hadn't thrown up any more of this stuff after that night in the bathroom. I'd been coughing up more and more of this stuff every day, sometimes in excessive amounts. I haven't told them about this, of course; I don't want them to worry. Besides, it's bad enough that Paintbrush ended up getting involved in Merripen's schemes (even if they didn't see Merripen for themselves), I don't want Lightbulb to as well.

I shake all the black gunk off my hand, grimacing slightly. "Ugh, gross. What even is this?"

Oh, trust me darling. You don't want to know that.

You have got to be kidding me.

"So you're poking around in my head while I'm awake, now?" I don't need to ask who's speaking. I know it's Merripen, they've been haunting my dreams ever since the night in the cave.

"I wouldn't say that I'm in your head at the moment, but you're the only one who can hear me now, dear." I can hear him clearing his throat. "However, there is a matter I would like to discuss..."

"How many times do I have to say it?" I groan exasperatedly. "I. Am. Not. Going. To. Work. With. You."

"Are you sure you don't want to at least make some sort of arrangement, Testy?"

"Don't call me that," I snap. "Leave me alone."

"But don't your little circle of friends call you that?" Merripen questions.

"Yeah. Cause they're my friends," I point out, taking my glasses off and putting them aside. "You're just some bitchy, omnipotent being who's trying to kill a bunch of teenagers to destroy universes."