The Perfect Illusion

Get Up

Narrator's POV

"Ah.." Stephen hissed as he came into the London Sanctum. He ran his hand over his neck, still feeling the sting from the dart Bruce shot him with. He walked over to a cauldron full of water and looked at his reflection.

It was nothing but a scratch.

"Strange."

Stephen quickly looked away, covering up the mark and watched as Kaecilius walked in with two Zealots at his sides.

"Did you kill him?" Kaecilius asked, with his hands behind his back.

"I tried, but failed to do so. He had some of the Avengers come to his aide." Stephen said.

"I see." Kaecilius said. "This is the second time you fail to follow instructions, Strange."

"I understand. I w-Hn!" Stephen groaned as a blade it's way through his chest.

"A sorcerer like you should not be able to fall so easily. With your strength, you should've been able to kill all three of them easily." Kaecilius said.

"Ah-!" Stephen gasped, gripping his chest and falling to his knees.

"Now, you've had two attempts to get rid of Stark and failed both times." Kaecilius walked around Stephen. "What do you think it means when someone as bold and strong as you fails to accomplish the task they were set to do?"

Stephen didn't say anything. He was trying to use the best of his knowledge in medicine to keep himself alive.

"They're not really trying." Kaecilius said. "You've grown weak, Strange. You have allowed yourself to fall into her tricks and submit to the light."

"I-ah!" Stephen gasped, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He was dying.

"You need something new." Kaecilius said. "More strength, more power. A new you." He said. "You were destined to be the Sorcerer Supreme of earth. Your strength is like nothing we've seen before." He turned to Stephen. "That's why once the transformation is complete, you and Dormammu will be one." He waved his hand around, lifting Stephen off his knees and reviving him, then dropping him back on the ground.

Stephen gasped for air.

"You are pathetic and weak, but once Dormammu and you are one, you will be stronger than ever." Kaecilius. "For now rest and eat. We will continue our progress tomorrow." He walked away with the Zealots.

"Hah.." Stephen sighed.

///0///0

"Ngh!"

Stumbling footsteps were heard in one of the many rooms of the London Sanctum.

"Ah!" Stephen groaned as he held his hands to his head.

The memories.

All the painful memories were coming back to him.

"Fuck." He gasped, putting a hand to his chest, feeling out breath and falling to his knees and knocking things off a small table in the center of the room.

The room around him spun as words and laughter settled in his mind. This was painful. It was very painful.

All these memories and feelings were coming back to him and he had no one to help him settle down.

He looked up, gasping for air.

There in the dresser.

He slowly made his way to the dresser, opening a drawer in it and searching through it frantically.

"Where is it?" He asked, moving things around. "Where is it?" He said, throwing things about the room.

Then there it was.

A sweet and long syringe, full of the chemicals that brought him a peace of mind.

He quickly picked it up, desperately taking the cap off with his shaking hands and lifting his sleeve. He made his veins glow with his magic and poked the needles through his flesh, pushing down on the needle and injecting the chemicals in him.

"Ah-!" He gasped, putting a hand to his chest.

There was a rush, a huge wave of pressure.

The room spun around him and force pushed him down the ground.

He tried to put his arms up, but they were pushed down forcefully.

Colored swirls and stars appeared in his eyes as his breathing quickened and he heard a loud thump in his chest. He felt a large amount of pressure in his chest, seeing things in his eyes.

Flowers blooming quickly.

A dead carcass decomposing.

The sound of birds signing.

The buzzing of flies in his ears.

Static television noises.

The crashing of water from a waterfall.

Him screaming and running around the room like a madman.

A ringing in his ear.

Raindrops hitting the ground in a slow rain.

Cars honking.

People smiling.

Fireworks going off.

"Stephen..." A sweet voice echoed in his ears.

"Hah..." He sighed, laying on the ground with a large lazy smile and half lidded eyes.

The time had passed by quickly, and he hadn't realized.

The moon was out already, and the sky was dark, decorated with stars.

He chuckled when he saw figures walking around him. "Baa, baa black sheep..." He sang before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and everything went dark.

///0///0

"Mm..." Stephen groaned as he awoke. He slowly opened his eyes, but they shot open once he remembered when he was. He sat up quickly, looking around.

There was no one.

His door was still closed.

"Hm." He sighed, closing his eyes and moving his neck in circular motions. He reached for the back of his neck, rubbing it.

Sleeping on the floor was a terrible idea.

"Ah!" He hissed when he felt a sharp pain in his forearm. "What the hell...?" He looked at his arm.

A syringe was still in his arm.

He took it in his hands and slowly pulled it out. "Shit." He said under his breath, throwing the damn thing somewhere in the room. Then he looked around. "Oh fuck." He said.

He was surrounded by multiple needles.

There was a lighter and a spoon next to him. There was a rubber hose and several opened bottles of pills. On his right sat a bottle of a caramel colored liquid, half empty.

He sighed, slowly getting up and groaning in pain. He picked up the bottle and took a drink straight out of the bottle, walking around the room. He managed to make it to the bathroom without finding the room a mess, but was taken by surprise when he entered the bathroom.

On the counter sat a small empty bag.

There were more syringes in the sink, and there were small packets in the toilet.

Blood stained toilet paper was overflowing from the trash basket.

"Hah..." He sighed, turning to the mirror, looking at his reflection.

He looked tired and sick. He felt awful.

"Fuck you, Strange." He said, raising the bottle up and putting his lips to it, allowing the very strong and biter liquid to go down his throat.