The Music in my Head and The Light of my Life

The Letter pt 2

I bit my lip as I finished writing the letter. Traveling through a pentagram on the wall, I easily made it down to Level 14. Where Norman resided. I peeked around a corner, seeing a sliver of his light. I rushed to a nearby dead Fisher, gingerly placing the note near the Ink Heart. I accidentally brushed my finger against it, causing a sudden chilling shriek to pierce the air. My eyes widened, I realized I had gone too far. I quickly and frantically rushed back through the wall, landing where I was before. 

I took a long and deep breath. That was awfully close. I'd rather keep my body intact. Or, well. This vessel I call a body. I was still somewhat human, yet also ink. But whatever I am, I'm sure My Lord doesn't want his prophets and believers to be in terrible shape. 

[Norman's Perspective]

Just another boring, dreadful day. Or was it night? I sure as hell don't know. Haven't known for years. Please, more like decades. Anyway.. Back to the point. What point. There hasn't been a fucking point.

I muttered to myself as I limped around my domain, my old office. That decaying, old office.. I used to love it. Now? I hate it. I hate this damn place. I want to be back home. Haven't even seen the sun for decades. Haven't seen anyone but "Alice" and the Butcher Gang.

The Butcher Gang.. They cling to me like I'm a parent. I don't complain, but. I regret killing a few of them. But I wouldn't allow Susie to touch them. 

Walking. Limping. Wading. All I seemed to do these days. These years. Got boring real quick, I'll tell ya that. God-fucking-damn. 

I stopped, craning what was left of my neck. I heard something. At least, I think I did.. My hearing is shit now. Doesn't help when I force myself to wear this damn projector mask 24/7. 

My eyes widened from beneath the mask, and I shrieked and screamed angrily. Someone trespassed.

Someone touched my stuff.

Mine, nobody else's. Fucking hate everyone here, stop stealing my shit. 

I immediately went to the source of it, rushing and quickly limping and walking through the sea of ink. I looked around, seeing nothing and no one. I was about to go back when I noticed a slip of paper resting near a Fisher's Ink Heart. My curiosity peaked, I went over to it. I hesitantly took off the mask and held it under my arm. God, that felt a million times better. I can actually see and hear with this thing off. And breathe. 

I shook the hair out of my face, squinting at the paper. I grabbed it with my free hand and examined it with a skeptical expression. My eyebrows raised out of surprise when I read the first few words. Someone remembered me. Or, well. What I used to be. 

I kept reading. Gasping along the way, my eyes widening at points. I was speechless just a couple paragraphs in. Someone's heart and soul had been poured out, to me. About me. I finished after a couple minutes and my gaze traveled to the bottom of the paper.

"Signed, Sammy Lawrence." I spoke softly. I felt my heart simply shatter. Like projector lightbulbs I accidentally dropped all those years ago. I stared at his signature. I kept staring. I couldn't tear my eyes away, even if I wanted to. 

"If only you understood," I murmured, carefully and neatly folding it up. I gingerly placed it in my pocket, that way it wouldn't get lost. That way it would be close to me at all times. I sighed to myself and put the mask back on, and continued to just walk around. 

..Sammy.. I really do miss you so much. I miss us. I don't want you to see me because I've become such a.. monster. I'm not myself anymore. I haven't been. I don't even know who I am anymore. Am I Norman still? Or am I The Projectionist? Am I simply just a toy or a tool for Joey? Am I even worth anything anymore? I had a job. I had a life. I was so happy with you. Then it all came crashing down. And now here we are. Torn apart. You, barely remembering me. Me, remembering too much of you. To the point it physically hurts. I want to see your face again. I want to hug you, I want you to speak sweetly to me again. But it won't ever happen again. Nothing good ever happens now. I've learned to accept that. 

I kicked a nearby barrel out of anger and sadness, and I felt inky tears. Great. Can't even wipe them away. God, I signed up for too much without knowing it. I wish I knew back then.

I really wish I knew.