Warnings for mentions of mild gore/self mutilation. Not as bad as it sounds, I promise
It was that time of the year again.
Jack could feel him, sitting at the back of his skull, whispering into his ear all the terrible things that made Jack feel physically sick at times.
Anti always got louder around halloween, staying true to all the stereotypical demon bullshit Jack had read about.
Normally he was able to stay in control. Keep Anti quiet, buried in the deepest recesses of his mind. It was getting harder though.
Last year had been some sort of fluke, he'd been tired and he'd been ill which had lowered his defences further. At least, those were the lies Jack told himself because he couldn't face the truth.
Anti was getting stronger.
He never wanted to admit it, never wanted to even think of the possibility of it. But now, it was harder to ignore, especially with Signe sitting downstairs.
She hadn't been told. Led to believe that it was all some fantastic editing, just like the community. Jack had lied to her.
Pathetic. Lying to your girlfriend, what kind of disgusting person are you
Jack shook his head, frowning at himself in the mirror. He'd just been trying to shave like any normal person. Why couldn't he do even that in peace!
As soon as he'd picked up the razor, Anti was muttering in his mind, telling him to take the blades to his throat. He'd sounded more compelling than Jack would like to admit.
Sighing, Jack threw the razor into the sink, running his hands through his hair. It wasn't safe for him to handle anything sharp during times like this. Anti would always be there, commanding him to either hurt himself or anyone who was around at those moments.
Weak, so weak. What kind of man are you, can't even stomach the thought of a little blood
"Shut up." Jack growled, glaring at himself in the mirror. If he looked closely enough, he could see the beginnings of green rings around his usually blue eyes. It sickened him to see Anti's affect on his body.
Our body Jack. It's always been our body yet you insist on calling it your's.
"I said shut up!" His grip on the sink rim tightened as he swayed, suddenly overcome with a bout of dizzyness. His vision swam, glimpses of Anti standing over Signe, covered in red, flashing in his mind.
"Stop that Anti!" He hissed. The demon was going too far. Jack could tolerate the threats of slitting his own throat but he wouldn't put up with Anti threatening to murder his girlfriend.
Ooh~ Have I struck a nerve, mmh?
More images flashed before his eyes. Signe with a knife in her back, Signe lying in a pool of blood, Signe being strangled by his own hands.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it, get out of my head!" Jack's hands clenched in his hair, eyes squeezed shut as if he could block out everything he just saw.
And just like that, it all stopped. Anti's deranged cackling fell silent, no more images entered his mind.
Jack only then realised that he'd fallen to his knees. His head hurt from pulling on his hair so much, a dull ache in his knees from when he fell.
The knock on the bathroom door startled him.
"Seán? Are you alright in there?" Signe's worried voice was muffled through the wood of the door. Jack waited for a moment, listening for Anti's unwanted commentary. But there was nothing.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just slipped." He was barely able to keep his voice from shaking.
"While shaving?" She sounded unconvinced. Jack swallowed nervously. Signe was always able to tell when he was lying.
"Uh....no. I-I didn't slip." He pushed himself up, steeling himself for the conversation that was about to happen. Opening the door slowly, Signe's concerned face only made Jack feel more guilty.
"We should, um, we should probably sit down for this." His legs were unsteady, vision still swimming. The room spun around him. Signe grabbed his arm as he stumbled forward. All the colour had left his face, leaving him looking sick. Signe placed a hand on his forehead as they moved together.
"Seán you're burning up! You have a fever." Jack plopped onto the bed, all but dragging Signe down with him.
"No, no I'm fine. It's not a fever. It's-It's Anti Signe. He's in my head, telling me to do so many terrible things." Jack suddenly doubled over, whimpering and clutching at his stomach as pain shot through him.
"You're delirious sweetheart. Stay here, I'll go get some medicine." She went to leave but Jack reached out, gripping her cardigan sleeve.
"You-you have to believe me! You're in danger! Please!" Tears collected at the corners of his eyes. His head was pounding now, a sure sign that Anti was near. But Signe only looked at him with pity, thinking he was simply sick.
"Anti isn't real Seán. He can't hurt us." She gently pried his fingers from her sleeve, using it to wipe away Jack's tears.
"I'll be back in a moment. Lay down, maybe try to get some sleep." Kissing his forehead, she left the room depsite Jack's protests.
He curled up on bed, every part of him aching. The light was suddenly too bright, every creak of the house too loud. Jack groaned, hands clamped over his ears.
Opening his eyes only made him feel worse. The room wouldn't stop moving, making Jack feel even more like he was going to throw up.
He swore he saw Anti appear in the corner of the room, smirking at him with his signature knife in hand.
Time's up Seán
Jack pushed himself off the bed, falling heavily to the floor. He had to get out of the house, had to put enough distance between himself and Signe before Anti took control.
His limbs were heavy as he dragged himself to the door. Using the handle to pull himself into a standing position. He leaned his whole body against the wall to stop himself from falling over again.
You lost
Anti was appearing again. This time he stood closer, holding the knife up to his own throat, grinning wildly down at Jack.
He coughed into his hand, blatantly ignoring the blood that splattered there. His gaze was focused on the stairs, as he made his way ever so slowly over to them.
He swayed at the top, the stairs seemingly stretching longer in front of his eyes. Clutching onto the banister with both hands, Jack took the first step. And the next. And the next.
It was slow going, having to steady himself after every move. But he finally made his way to the bottom.
He could see the front door. He was almost out. He had hope.
And then his knees gave out a few steps from the door. He tried in vain to push himself up but his legs wouldn't work.
Tears flowed freely down his face. He was so close, so close to keeping Signe safe from that terrible monster that hid in his head.
Anti flickered into existance, sauntering toward him. He stopped and kneeled down, putting the knife under Jack's chin to tilt his head up so their eyes could meet.
My turn~
"Seán? What are you doing down here!" Signe came through the kitchen door, a bottle of medicine in hand. She stopped short when Jack laughed. It sent a chill up her spine.
Anti pushed himself off the ground, flexing his fingers, getting used to having a body again. Blood dripped from the wound on his neck, staining Jack's shirt.
He twitched, green eyes snapping up to stare at Jack's girlfriend. His mouth morphed into a crazed smile with too many teeth.
"Hello Signe."
