They Couldn't Find What Was Wrong In Your Mind

2. Let All Purity Be Stained

Lights flickered, slowly illuminating the room. Barrone's vision took a while to adjust; he never did have particularly good eyesight.

Once he had focused - terrible, terrifying features emerged right in front of him.

The walls were sprayed with a crimson substance. Blood. Everywhere Barrone looked was splattered with blood. It had been thrown, printed, flicked and dragged all over the once cream-painted room.

That wasn't all the scene had to offer. The Mechanist's blood ran ice-cold as he noticed the room's primary feature. Edgar Dionisio.

The smaller boy was sprawled over the sofa, with one arm and leg limp, almost touching the carpet. Barrone hoped he was sleeping, but he knew that wasn't the case.

Purple lined Edgar's left eye; his arms covered in cuts. His once innocent, boyish face was frozen into what appeared to be a cry of terror.

He then noticed a puncture in his neck, the jugular had clearly been cut out. That explained the blood.

Barrone's body began to shake violently as he burst into tears. He had no idea if he was experiencing fear, rage, sadness, or all three.

"No... please!" He fell to his knees; he wanted to tear his eyes from what he was witnessing, but it was impossible. His best friend, timid and brother was dead. Slaughtered.

Barrone sobbed loudly, tears streaming down his face as he edged a trembling hand towards his lifelong friend. He shut his jaw and closed his eyes, he looked more peaceful that way. The way he should have died.

Keeping a hand on Dionisio's face, Barrone took his Timid's hand and squeezed it tightly; partly hoping that this would somehow bring him back. He pulled himself to his feet, before leaning in and planting a kiss on Edgar's forehead. "Goodbye, brother. I love you more than life itself. We'll meet again, someday."

Barrone was unable to comprehend what had just happened. He still hoped that when he went to bed that night, that he would awake with Dionisio's arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. He had always been a cuddler. Barrone never liked that much, but now he knew he wasn't going to be able to live without it.

A sharp pain surged through Barrone's skull and down his spinal cord. This time, it was too much. His head jerked and he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

He woke up, curled up on the ground, his clothes stained in blood.

"What... is this?" He winced. He managed to stand, a wave of sadness consuming him when he realized Edgar's death was not a nightmare. He grazed a finger across his bloodstained clothes, before examining the condition. It was fresh.

Before Barrone had time to think, he noticed more stains on the walls. Fresh blood now covered more of the wall, this time it was in a coherent shape. A word.

'Cyrus'

A wave of both confusion and terror swept over Barrone. It was after him.