project vessel (twenty one pilots)

prologue - recognition

/unedited/

The flames springing from Tyler's fingers do not faze or burn him. The skin near his nails is calloused and scarred, abrasions marking the first few times his hands had exploded into flames and burned his flesh before he grew accustomed to it. Tyler rolls his neck to the side in a lazy stretch, the dim lighting catching the charcoal in different stripes of shades of black. His hands match the black color, but the fire makes them look ebony against the tan bronze of his skin. The bulb hanging from the ceiling hovers above the victim's face, fear frozen in his expression in a grotesque contortion. Blood splatters across his steel grey suit and Tyler still hasn't gotten what he wants. Information.

Years ago, Tyler was taken from his family unit by the government to partake in a top secret project titled "Project Vessel". He was a failure in whatever experimentation had occurred, and at the age of 21 was returned to society. Struggling to do anything in this new world without any memory of what had occurred before, Tyler found Josh. Josh became his mentor, guiding him into the world, even if it was still in the shadow of common society. Eventually, Tyler convinced Josh to join his cause and Josh supported him; if that meant blood and torture, they were no longer concerned. Tyler heard voices and music in his head. He heard instruments and he heard whispers. He named the whispers Blurryface, and the instruments he categorized as songs to recognize the melodies, giving them titles and names like the voice. They burned his brain and played cerebral symphonies orchestrating a thousand horrors and nightmares, keeping him from thinking straight. Tyler accepted the insanity because he knew little else. It fueled the rage inside of him, the passionate hatred against the project that forged him to be that way. A madman who could summon fire from his hands and paralyze every nerve just by blinking; with curses disguised as gifts that sealed his fate as an outcast. 

"You've been paying them money for 27 years. Do you honestly expect us to believe you have no clue what Vessel is?" Josh twirls a knife in his hands, red hair glinting in the light as he crouches to the man's level.
"Look, they just told me it was an investment worth my money and that someday I'd become a millionaire from it. " The stuttered reply came. Josh pressed the knife's sharp tip to the grey tie.
"27 years." The red haired man repeats in disbelief.
"I don't know anything, please, I'm begging you! I've got a daughter on the way. My wife needs me."
Tyler guffawed now. "You're a faithful husband. We intercepted you on the way to Lilo's and now you're begging for your life because of a kid?" He didn't particularly enjoy Lilo's; like many of the brothels of the Undercity, it created traffic and noise and bred stupidity, ignorance, and lust. He'd been inside a few times as an effort to distract himself from the voices, in case he could find some sort of entertainment from spending time there either observing the lowlives spending all their money. He'd only actually used their service once, and as much as it was entertaining it wasn't an experience he'd repeat.

"I'll never come again, please! I'll stop paying. Let me live." The man pleads.

The flames vanish and Tyler kneels next to Josh. "Do it." Josh smiles in response and sinks the blade into the man's chest, blood blossoming from the wound. He rotates the blade and then removes it from the flesh. He wipes it on his jeans and flicks the blade into the handle before pocketing it. Tyler stands up, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. When he reopens them, they are red and he clenches his jaws. Fire licks his fingertips and he guides it to the body in a torrent of controlled hell, watching it sizzle into fine dust. He calms down, eyes darkening back to their brown and fire flickering into nothingness, receding back to his hands. He scooped the ashes with his forefinger and then blew, watching them scatter. "He wasn't lying, you know." He mumbles. 

"Of course he wasn't." Josh sighs. "Jerk still supported the stuff for 27 years and didn't question a thing. Everyone knows, even if they pretend not to. Kids with half their brains and.. Habits. Shutting themselves off even though they can't ever remember. Who knows, maybe there's other crazy kids who can just throw fireballs at people like you." Josh shrugged.
"They're not fireballs...but I just wanted to know. No, I need to know!" Tyler slumps, sighing. Josh places his hand on Tyler's shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to comfort him.
"I know, Tyler." Josh murmurs.
Tyler opens his mouth to speak, to rant but a piano begins to play. The cerebral record player has chosen to click on and haunt him. As the melancholy notes begin to play, needles stab his brain and shoot through his body like millions of fractures and cuts doused with hydrogen peroxide. Collapsing on the floor of the warehouse storage unit, he grips his temples and screams in pain, placing his forehead against his knees. It plays and is accompanied by a voice, which is a first. Music never comes with voices. It's a woman. Not Blurryface. It's as wrong, just as wrong as having voices in the first place. "I'm a goner. Somebody catch my breath. I'm a goner. Somebody catch my breath."
Josh's panicking questions don't reach Tyler's ears as he begs not for the voice to stop, but for some recognition.

a/n; so this is a new story I'm working on. I'm probably not going to write it until I finish T&E and all. Dedications to LeaveNoWordsUnspoken and heeheedragon97  for sort of helping me with the ideas and supporting me. They're great authors and if you haven't checked them out yet, please do so. this prologue was in present tense but I am going to write this in past. thanks for the love. -mo.

ps. lmao i have to redo the cover thanks wattpad