Eraserhead and Scribe II

Eraserhead and Scribe II Chapter 8

In Scribe's dream, the man with the dark hair was on the other side of a glass wall trying to get to her. He leapt at the glass so hard it cracked between his palms, his eyes full of desperation and...love.

She woke with his name on her lips, but she bit it back. If she said it, the black things would come.

And then he sat up and reached for her. "Scribe? Are you all right, my love?"

Before she could stop herself, she reacted instinctively, jerking away from him. "No! You're not—" She broke off, confused. What had she been about to say? Shota. But something else haunted her. The vision of herself in a hospital bed and Tomura Shigaraki sitting beside her holding her hand. You're not even Tomura. What are you?

Something crawled over her leg and she swiped at it, but something else dropped onto her arm, then more and more the harder she fought against them. She screamed in horror, and then she fell off the bed, tangled in a blanket of black things, but he caught her and it was like light in a dark room and she clung to him in spite of herself. That was just a dream. This is Tomura. He's safe.

***

No matter what she did, though, Scribe couldn't wipe the dark-haired, dark-eyed man from her mind. She tried not to think of him because if she did, the black things came. Even in the daylight. But his eyes haunted her, filling her with longing for...something.

She waited for Tomura to sleep and lay in bed awake. The darkness surrounded her and it was filled with them. If she left the bed, they'd be all over her, finding ways into her, under her skin, filling her heart and head with their inky poison. She'd go mad if Tomura didn't stop them.

But maybe...maybe she could get to the bathroom first. She thought maybe she'd done it once before. She remembered looking into the mirror and seeing those eyes. Strangely, it wasn't that that gave her the courage to try, though. It was the vague memory of Tomura Shigaraki sitting beside her still form in a hospital. Somehow that felt more real than the one who held her and chased away the black things.

She slipped from the bed and ran. Something crunched under her foot and she almost screamed but held it back. They were coming. She barely managed not to slam the door before she flipped on the light. It wouldn't hold them back for long, so she had to act fast. She turned to the mirror and tried to think what to do. His name. What was his name? She pictured the eyes and felt her heart whisper it. Shota. Oh please, Shota.

Something touched her toe and she pushed it away, shaking her foot but not breaking her concentration. The mirror was foggy, as if she'd been in the shower, but then it cleared and he was there, looking at her with those eyes, and she dissolved into tears. Shota.

She reached for the mirror, pressing her palm against it. He did the same, a look of wonder on his face. He said something but she couldn't hear. Something was blocking him. A black thing landed on her outstretched hand and she jerked back. They were coming. She could hear them scuttling now, unafraid of the light, emboldened by her actions. They're here to keep me in line. This isn't real.

But it felt real. Their legs were like tiny blades, poking into her skin, finding her tender places, working their way under... She looked back at Shota. He couldn't help her. He stood with a horrified expression on his face, watching her as she swatted at the things in her hair and on her face. She held onto the tenuous connection, feeling as if it was the only thing that could keep her sane as the things crawled all over her and she gave up and screamed until her lungs felt bloody. And then the bathroom door opened and Tomura picked her up and carried her out, and she clung to him, looking over his shoulder at Shota, still in the mirror.

***

Aizawa reeled back from the mirror, his heart frozen in his chest. Unlike the last brief encounter, he knew that this time she'd made contact with him. He knew she was being held somehow against her will. And she was being tortured. And thanks to her strength, he knew something else.

Tomura Shigaraki was the one doing it. Rage filled him. Had the man been toying with him all this time? He had her somewhere, was torturing her and then rescuing her. Psychological torture and brainwashing. It certainly wasn't beyond the man, though Aizawa had thought Shigaraki was smarter than that. Surely he must know by now that it wasn't going to work. Instead of weakening her and bringing her under his control, Scribe was growing stronger.

She's fighting him. But God, the pain she's in while she's doing it.

He paced back and forth. He looked at the phone on his dresser. He wanted to break it, but he might need it. He had to figure out the best way to proceed. I should tell All Might. Maybe we can come up with a plan to get Shigaraki to admit he has her.

If I can keep from killing him first.