Heart shaped Skulls

The Monster I've Made

"The Jekyll has awoken with the sleep of Hyde. The light has been broken. The spell has begun."

This is hell. The feeling of not seeing but at the same time feeling, hearing, and tasting everything. I wanted to rub the blackness from my eyes so bad, to hope this was just a horrible dream that I would wake up from in a little bit. I wasn't going to though, and I never was. She was going to remind me of that. I felt myself stand the shuffling of my feet as I walked forward like I was learning how to walk again. Stumbling forward to the complete unknown I listened intently for any sign to freak the fuck out. But it wasn't what I was going to listen for but what I was touching. Slowly my hand dipped into harsh cloth, similar to cotton but with bits of flaky substance. I felt who I could only assume as Thomas move backwards trying to pull my hands to his chest as he was scared of what I was going to reach. At this point I was hoping it was his apron and thankfully I guessed it. Although, that didn't sooth my racing heart. A flash of what was only a few moments ago blinked in the darkness. He had stashed his Mallet in the apron's pocket and that's why he was scared. Scared of my emotionless face, scared of why my crying stopped and the remnants of tears gone. Now my hands wrapped around the prickly handle of the rusty Mallet, if you weren't carful I would assume you would get a splinter. I wanted to scream to ball myself up but I sat on standby as my body controlled itself. Thomas was vigorously trying to wake me from this-whatever you call it, a panic attack, episode, or a full fucking mental breakdown. I struggled against my own will pleading desperately to let me take control. Thomas had grabbed my hand and everything went into slow motion. Who ever was piloting my body froze as his hand came into contact. I begged that he wasn't going to be hurt until I felt my right hand, the one with the mother fucking Mallet raise. I wanted to choke on thin air, to scream till my voice gave. I didn't want to hurt anyone! This isn't me! Thomas was breathing heavy like he was trying to keep every fiber of himself from snapping my neck. The weapon was above my head now before that weak little whimper echoed in the basement. I held my weeping cry stealing it away deep in the cavern of my throat. I felt myself swivel, slowly too slowly. Thomas's hand left mine as his feet retracted behind me. WHY WASN'T HE STOPPING ME! WHY CAN'T I BLOODY STOP!? WAKE UP! Something broke in me when I hoisted the Mallet above my head. I was screeching but no noise flooded the room, I could claw out my hair, rip my eyeballs out anything to distract me from the moist, bone chilling crunch of a hammer colliding with a human skull. The woman yelled, louder than any roar I've heard in my life. It was diluted with intense pain, screaming for help only to have the Mallet slam down again, again, and again. Vile sounds of blood and brain matter squishing on my clothes running down my chest, down my arms. I raised my arm again at this point the blonde woman wasn't screaming, wasn't moving. Just a hunk of moosh. When my hand came back down and connected the splatter dribbled onto my face. I wanted to recoil so bad, rip my skin off my face to get the feeling of someone's blood on my face. I cringed when my tongue slid out and licked my lips. I was numb at the same time screaming for help, for anything. GOD! PLEASE GOD! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! Time stopped, and so did I when a sliver of a tear cold and welcoming ran down my face. The darkness retracted leisurely showing the disgusting basement. I didn't waste any time to throw the god Forsaken weapon down crashing somewhere in the room and letting out a bloodcurdling screech. I gripped my hair pulled, tugged and yanked as I stared eyes wide with trauma. She didn't even look right anymore. From the top of her head to the bottom of her neck was in tiny bits. I fell back tears blurring my vision as I looked at myself in horror. Blood. It was everywhere in my mouth, down my shirt. Everywhere. "GET IT OFF! GET IF OFF! OH GOD ITS EVERYWHERE! IT'S EVERYWHERE!" I screamed my throat hoarse as I whipped explosively at my face only succeeding to smear it. Thomas was stunned she was like a switch. Her scream shook him from his state of mummified shock. Thomas rushed to her side right hand around her neck the other lingering on her bloody knee. She wasn't kidding. It was like she jumped in a river of scarlet blood. "GET IT OFF! please GET IT OFF!" she was reciting it like a mantra. Somethings wrong Thomas thought, he wasn't aware her first kill would be like this. Hoyt had done the same to him, gave him the Mallet and told him to kill the people or food as he would've said. Thomas should've known she was broken, maybe more broken then him. She was in no state to talk Rowena only babbled on about 'its all over me' or 'get it off' so he was going to do the only thing that would help, a bath. He ran her upstairs her screaming and babbling following non stop. He sat her on the counter as he ran the hot bath every now and again checking the temperature. Rowena sat deep, deep in her mind recoiling to her subconscious to rid herself of the terrible crime she committed. Thomas glanced back to her pity residing in his brown orbs. It was his fault, he shouldn't have pushed her. He should've gave her time, ease her into it. It's too late for that now. Thomas pushed the red sticky hair from her stained features. Her hair was more maroon than before as the blood darkened it heavily. Thomas was too shy to say but he loved her bright red hair, it reminded him of the crackling fire. Feisty and dangerous but also warm and inviting. He peeled off her soaked clothing trying not to pay attention to her womanly parts because as his mother said "it's very impolite to stare at women" he wishes she was here to help him because Thomas felt way out of his comfort zone. Once she was fully submerged the water immediately tinted red not pink but deep scarlet. Thomas's jaw almost dropped, he was going to have to drain it and draw new bath water. For the moment he made sure the excess blood on her head and torso was off before he done that.

After what it seemed hours of silence and scrubbing he had gotten all of the blood from her body. Pulling her out he attempted to stand her up but only had her frail body crashing back to the tiled floor. Thomas was concerned why hasn't she moved? Thomas didn't know what a mental breakdown was, he didn't even understand why she had acted out in the first place. She didn't have the best past he knew that, he could tell. He huffed as he shuffled around her black duffle bag that was set in Thomas's old room for the girl. He was obviously confused by the clothing and settled on his large  checkered shirts and one of her modest underwear to dress her. Thomas made record timing on putting the clothes on the female trying so hard not to look so Rowena could keep her dignity. She still stared at absolutely nothing distant even from Thomas whom seemed he could calm the beast but not her. He sighed hoping at this point to see her turn to him and possibly say something, but no Rowena just sat there. Thomas pushed her into the bed covering her thoughtfully as if she was a little child before he clicked the light off and went back to the basement to continue his daily chores.

I am Jekyll. And you...you are Ms. Hyde. Welcome to the Sweet Abyss.