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Stupid.
Moron.
Idiot.
These words repeated themselves over and over in her mind as she glared down at the boy clinging to her hands. Bones that were not as fragile as they appeared ached under the strain, her wrists unused to supporting so much weight, but she refused to let the pain show. Even as his nails dug into her flesh and drew blood, her face remained shrouded in darkness, impassive and blank.
It was what she preferred, of course. Hiding her eyes from the world and letting no one see. The eyes were the windows to the soul, after all. The Viewers did not have them, the televisions had taken them.
Their eyes.
Their souls.
They were weak.
They had stupidly exposed the most vulnerable parts of themselves and suffered the consequences. Been changed by a power they could never comprehend, a strength they lacked, all because they had allowed themselves to fall into the tower’s trap. Their weaknesses had been exploited.
Six refused to be weak.
She would be strong, had to be strong in this world. Being weak would get you killed, or worse. She wanted to survive, to fight and live and break free of the fear that encompassed her life. One day, she would be able to stop running, stop hiding, but for now she had no choice.
She had to wait until she was strong enough to fight back, but until then she had to keep herself alive. A struggle in the best of circumstances, and something that was practically impossible when you had a deadweight dragging you down. Like a brick that had been chained to her ankle as she struggled to stay above the water, always seconds away from drowning and never any closer to freedom.
Mono was weak.
It was something she had noticed right after meeting him. The fact that he had bothered to free her, as if she had been incapable of freeing herself, and the worry that had been clearly expressed made it clear that his emotions ruled him.
He had been concerned about the girl humming her tune and playing her song, stopped whatever he was doing to swoop in and save her from whatever horrible fate awaited her. At least he had proven his worth by helping her get that ladder down and finding the key, but she did not need his help. She did not need him anywhere near as much as he needed her.
The smile that would cross his face as he looked at his presumed companion as he forced her to tag along on a journey that she had never agreed to, his mask everchanging and slowly showing her more and more of his personality.
It was disgusting.
Almost as disgusting as the hope that would fill his eyes whenever she caught him after an especially far jump. Previously, his face had been obscured and hidden by his collection of headwear, eyes safely hidden, but now?
Now the whole world could see them, see how brightly they shone with joy at the fact that she had caught him once again, like she always had.
How dare he.
How dare he.
How dare he smile, be happy, as everything around them crumbled. How dare he become emotional while hanging between life and death. How dare he act like everything was going to be fine once she pulled him up.
How dare he assume she would save him, assume she would save the one who had brought so much angst and fear into her life.
He was the one responsible for everything!
Everything bad that had happened to her had been because of him. She had been captured because of him. Been dragged on this horrible journey because of him. She had been attacked and injured more times than she could count because of him! Battered and bruised, crushed and left tasting blood.
His hand always clamped around her wrist and tugging her along, chaining her to him. His voice always calling out to her, demanding her attention.
He was needy.
He was clingy.
He was weak.
It was only when she first watched him touch that television, seen how he had instinctively moved towards it, communed with it, that she realized how much trouble she had gotten herself into. He had been oblivious to how she recoiled once she broke him free of the television’s influence. She had seen the door, the eye , and quickly put the pieces together.
He was being manipulated, clear and simple.
How could he not see the trap he was falling into? The road that would lead to his demise, how could he not question it and what he was doing?!
It was obvious!
So, so painfully obvious…
Instinct was important to survival, but so was asking questions. Why was he being drawn towards the city? Why was he able to commune with the televisions in such a way?
What was behind the door?
He never asked, never bothered to slow down and think during any step of their journey. He had just stubbornly kept moving forward no matter what obstacle they faced or how grim the situation became.
Like the hunter who had been shot by one of his own guns, like the doctor who had been lured into the furnace and burned alive, neither of their foes had stopped to question their actions or think about what was going on. They blindly followed their instincts and it had led to their demise.
And here Mono was, following in their bloody footsteps.
At least the teacher had known when to stop, known that her prey had escaped her. She had not followed the instinct to hunt, to kill, and had left that encounter with her life intact even though she had been one of their most aggressive pursuers.
Even during their escape, he had been weak.
He had allowed his injuries to slow him down, and the tower had closed in on him. Eyes that focused on him, and him alone, and watched as he struggled to jump over the newly formed gaps, stumbled over the bridges of flesh that appeared before him. He was slowing her down.
He had always been slowing her down.
In this world you had to be strong. You could not show weakness. You could not hesitate. You could not depend on others as the world would just take them from you, leaving you alone in the darkness.
Six liked being alone.
There was no one else to hurt her, or be hurt by her.
She liked the darkness.
It was easier to hide, to wait and watch.
The shadows that hid oh, so many monsters. The shadows children had been taught to fear. The flashlights that cut through the gloom and made her eyes ache at the intensity of the light. He had taken the safety of the darkness from her more than once.
She liked her song, her shadows that stretched out before her and made a shape that was far taller than she could ever hope to be. A form strong enough to fight and take what was hers.
Twice now her song had been stolen from her because of him, him and his selfish desires. She did not need him to save her, she did not need him to help her, and she had been put in that situation, the tower, because of him.
She hated him.
Hated him for how weak he was. Hated the audacity he possessed to think that she had ever agreed to help him. Hated that he had assumed that she cared about him as anything more than a helpful partner. Hated the fact that, on the edge of freedom, he dared to drag her down into the darkness with him.
The tower would never let him go. His fate had been sealed long before he entered the city, and he was an idiot to think it would let them escape.
There was no future for her as long as Mono was by her side, his life was chained to this place. There would be no freedom, and she would always be weak.
Resolution steeled her nerves, tensed her muscles, and she lifted her other hand. Not to pull him up, nor to push him down, but to instead move her hood and brush her bangs out of her eyes.
Eyes that had been hidden from him since the start of their journey.
Eyes that burned with malice and hatred.
It was amusing, watching the realization of her feelings dawn on him and seeing the hope fade from his eyes. The shadows that dimmed his eyes and brought her salvation. It made her feel triumphant, even as her shoulders burned and her gut ached-
To survive you had to be strong.
You had to fight.
You had to do whatever you needed to, no matter the sacrifice.
She would survive.
His mouth opened, as though he were aware of what her decision already was, the start of him pleading for his life, but she was done with him. She had made up her mind ages ago on what to do with him the moment she was able to.
The choice to break free from the weight that dragged her down. The weight that was holding her back.
And, so…
Six let go.