Ashes of the Mind

Chapter 4: The First Cut

Ethan woke with a start, his heart racing. The clock on his bedside table read 3:17 AM. Something felt off, but he couldn't quite place what it was. As he sat up, a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Bad dream, doctor?" The Butcher's voice echoed in his mind, dripping with mock concern.

Ethan gritted his teeth. "Shut up. You're not real."

"Oh, but I am. And I think you'll find I'm more real than you'd like."

As Ethan's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed something on his hands. His breath caught in his throat as he realized what it was – blood. Fresh, sticky blood coating his fingers and palms.

Panic rising, Ethan stumbled to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The mirror revealed a horrifying sight. Blood spattered his face and shirt, a wild look in his eyes that he barely recognized.

"What did you do?" Ethan whispered, his voice trembling.

The Butcher's laughter rang in his ears. "We went for a little walk, doctor. Stretched our legs. Scratched an itch."

Memories flooded back – fragmented images of dark alleys, a struggle, a knife glinting in the moonlight. Ethan felt bile rise in his throat.

"No... no, this can't be happening."

"Oh, but it is," the Butcher purred. "And it feels so good to be back in the game."

Ethan's mind raced. He had to do something, had to stop this before it went any further. But who could he turn to? Who would believe him?

As if reading his thoughts, the Butcher spoke again. "Careful now, doctor. One word about me, and it's a one-way ticket to the psych ward. And we both know what they do to the minds of madmen in those places."

Ethan slumped to the bathroom floor, his head in his hands. He was trapped, a prisoner in his own body. And the worst part was, a small, dark corner of his mind had enjoyed it – the thrill, the power, the release.

"That's right," the Butcher whispered. "Embrace it. We're going to do great things together, you and I."

As the first rays of dawn began to peek through the window, Ethan made a decision. He couldn't let this continue. He had to find a way to stop the Butcher, to separate their minds before it was too late.

But first, he had to clean up the evidence. And as he scrubbed the blood from his skin, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that he was washing away more than just the physical stains of the night's activities.