Hurt

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Gregory's thoughts - 1st & 3rd person

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Gregory intensely stares at the sharp knife before him.

"Stab, stab stab!" Nasty, loud voices, repeatedly yelled. They've been doing that for a while now. And sure-- he may committed lots of sins, but he didn't get why he needed to be followed by entities for it.

"Stab. Gregory. Stab." Gregory was so sick of it. He was so sick of hearing them that maybe, maybe if he did what they were saying...

"STAB, STAB, STAB!!"

He glares at the knife before him.

He starts shaking his head and humming a loud, encouraging tune, that would usually make the voices stop. But they didn't. Not this time.

"Stab, stab, STAB!" The voices yelled even louder. It was getting hard to ignore it, and stop it. They were so...persistent, loud, and unbearable. It also felt so real, yet at the same time-- not.

Wait. Did he just question reality? They were..they were real, right? They certainly felt real..he knew they were.

"Gregory." He could hear his name being whispered. By Freddy...?

"Freddy!" Looking around, he found himself only surrounded by darkness, nothing else. But it seemed so...real? Could it be a call for help? Or Freddy trying to reach him? It sounded so real. There's no way it wasn't --

"GREGORY, STAB STAB STAB!!" That was it for Gregory. It was times likes these where the voice would be so persuasive, repetitive, and threatening, to the point Gregory would do whatever it said.

He picked up the sharp knife, his intrusive thoughts getting the better of him, and slowly stabbing himself in his stomach. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

The voice kept mercilessly yelling at him. They weren't satisfied. "STAB. STAB. STAB." They only stopped yelling once the knife had breached his intestine.

Once they did, he dropped it. He dropped the knife along with his body, to the cold, hard cement. He may have been dead, but it hurt so much.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.

"Gregory." Again and again. They're still here...he was so sick of it. Sick of it all.

"..Gregory."
His skin turned even paler.

He started coughing uncontrollably.

What was happening?
What just happened?
Why was this happening?

Gregory right now felt utter confusion, confusion and pain.

It was getting hard to breath the more he lied on the cement, but at the same time it would be even worse if he stood up, or moved at all.

This was a sickening experience.

....

Thud

Gregory passed out.

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Was this the shortest part I've written yet? Yes. Why? Because I literally do not know how this specific mental issue operates. I've done a lot of research but I'm still not able to write it in full potential, so I'm sorry if my depiction feels heavily stereotypical and not specific unlike Evans. :(

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