There's nothing you're forced to trust more than your own mind. You're dependent on it, it stores the memories that make up your world.
But what if it could be stolen from you?
Aspen's world is growing, from the boundaries of her country farm to...
dedicated to rae for suggesting that blackwood should use a snake and 'one of those flute things' to control people 💕
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The blade of the knife was thin and blunt, not made for cutting through flesh and bone.
The first thing that left my mouth was a horrified scream, hoarse with the terror coursing through my body.
Evan's expression remained blank as he raised the weapon to his arm and began sawing at his skin. Blood blossomed at the bottom of the blade, spilling down his arm and onto his trousers.
"Tell him to stop, Aspen." Blackwood said calmly.
"Evan, stop!" I said, but I was sure he was long past hearing me. In desperation, I stepped towards him, any fear of him turning the blade onto me shoved to the back of my mind as I grabbed his right hand, pulling it away. Evan was strong, but with only one arm to shove me off I was able to manoeuvre the knife-wielding one away from his body for a few mere seconds.
But then firm hands clasped my shoulder, yanking me away harshly. "Don't touch him."
"Why are you doing this?" I shrieked as Evan continued the sawing motion above the cut. It was now pouring with scarlet, a fountain of gore. "Evan please don't!"
It was deep now, the blade disappearing into his forearm with each stroke of the knife. Evan's gaze was still entranced dopily on the space before him, his blue eyes unseeing.
"Tell him, Aspen," Blackwood repeated, his grip still crushing my shoulders. "You can make him stop."
"Stop!" I screamed again, feeling furthermore helpless as Evan's blood dropped onto the carpet. Surely people in the rooms nearby would hear my cries, surely someone would come to stop it. Surely this wasn't real.
Evan cried out in pain as the knife hit some kind of resistance. Maybe his bone.
"You have to mean it, you have to put feeling to it," Blackwood said passionately by my ear, his words slicing through the scream emanating from Evan.
"I don't know what you mean," I gasped. "Please stop him. Please. I'll do anything you want."
"I won't stop it. You need to stop it. You're not even trying."
Evan shrieked again, and tears started spilling from my eyes, helplessness making it hard to breathe.
"Please stop, Evan," I said. I blinked rapidly, and inhaled deeply. "Evan, stop!"
Though it was subtle, Evan's eyes met mine, faint awareness lingering in his eyes before he resumed the sawing motion. A grinding sound came from where he was slicing.
"Stop!" I yelled again, and this time his head turned in my direction, pausing again. It was working. I was slightly tapping into whatever madness Blackwood had implanted in him. A hysterical laughter almost bubbled through my chest, but I channelled the hope into my words instead. "Stop, Evan. Drop the knife."
