Crimson eyes


Finding a good night's sleep was more and more difficult. Each of the dreams, or nightmares, seemed to just spawn around the same thing. Reoccurring issues, but not images. As if his own subconscious were trying to remind him of what could happen in the end, what he was capable of, all while allowing his own imagination to run rampant. Those images that he tried not to dwell on or thoughts he didn't want to run with. There they were, unable to be fought against with his eyes closed lying there. Swallowing, his arm came up over his face. A yawn only half stifled.

Now seemed a good enough time than any, not that he knew what time it was outside, until he lifted his phone towards his own face. The bright, shining light amongst the darkness, it burned some, but that was what came with the surroundings. Not the first time, wouldn't be the last. The entire room had been blacked out, windows covered so that no light could get in. It was for her protection, not his own. Sunlight was something she shied away from, for good reason. It destroyed her. Heat against the skin, he couldn't imagine it to be anything but missed. Not that he was sure if she missed anything. Their link wasn't like that. He really didn't know.

Groaning at the time, he rolled out of bed. It was hers to take. To hide out from the world that would destroy her. She was now some creature of the night, no matter how much he tried to help her. No matter how he couldn't help her. She did help him though, whether it was of her own volition or not. At the same time, she was also a hindrance. That damn blood lust. Shared the way it was. Swallowing again, he slowly made his way to the bathroom. Before he got started with his day, with cooking for himself, he needed to clean himself up. The sweat on his brow, the feeling of whatever happened in his own mind's eye not but moments ago. Heat to loosen muscles and give himself a moment of peace.

Walking in, he waited to turn on the light, until the door was about closed. It was a strange need to be considerate. Consideration to someone that didn't ask for it or require it. None of it mattered though, because the moment he turned, the moment that he caught sight of himself? The sight in the mirror had him jumping back. Warm fleshing hitting cold wall, as he stared into crimson that was unable to blink back at him. It was as if his own haunting dreams had decided to make themselves real. That his own real fears for weeks had to become real. The noise that came out of the back of his throat, even if he had heard it, he wouldn't have realized it was his. Some sound that was foreign to him.

How was he supposed to live his life like this? Everyone would know. Blue eyes didn't just turn red. There wasn't even any white left in the sclera. The only thing that was noted was that his pupil was still intact. It was as if he had some sort of subconjunctival hemorrhage that moved throughout the eye. All while having some sort of albino eye thing going on. Sunglasses were going to be a must, at all times. Day or night, apparently.

These weren't things he would think about now. No, he was too stuck in his own head. Fears made real. Worries over how this day might come, he hoped it wouldn't. That there would somehow be more time. Sure, it was probably better than walking around with the fangs and claws he had once seen himself in. The full body image that was seen in a mirror of what he was looking to become. Why was this going on now? Why was this happening to him? Staring at his own reflection, he refused to crumble there against the wall, onto the floor. At the same time though, he just wanted to break something. To unleash his own anger and prove that he could be more than this. At the same time, it made him more right for his own actions he had been taking. For removing people and things from his life. For pulling away, given how he was looking now.

He was a monster, and this was only going to get worse. Further proof making itself known. He needed to be somewhere he could be himself. To figure this out more, that wasn't just locking himself away in this city. The real question was though, where was it he could go like that? There was nowhere. He could go to the furthest corners of the world and nothing. It wouldn't matter. This life, wasn't like in his memories. They had a working teleporter. It changed things.

There wasn't a strong vanity in him, but he did miss his blue eyes already. The normal look, lost on him now. It was almost as if he had deja vu, to recall that memory on its own. To stare at himself, wishing this all away. Wondering why everything went in this direction. Two worlds colliding in the worst sort of ways. Someone else's strengths and weaknesses becoming his. Some mixed, mingled between each other, fluidly, while the rest, were something not fully known or understood.

He could barely stand to see himself like this, but at the same time, felt frozen in place. Michael didn't know how long he had been standing there, just that he had been. Unmoving, unwavering, still and lost. Time was not his friend. Had this meant that there would be another change in his blood, in his body, in his well being? Only time would tell. He couldn't handle this, though, he couldn't. There had been enough that had gone on the night before.

Knocking everything on the counter top over, he pulled the door open and stomped right out of the bathroom. He wanted no view of his own reflection. This was a bad dream. That was what he was going to think, in order to get through this day. If you didn't see it, how was it real? He had food to prepare and enjoy. To hell with this day and any to come.