Chapter Text
Chapter One: The Small Print
A dark alter ego for a heavy hearted man. A certain pale mask tumbled down from my hand. Was I heartbroken that he was more familiar with the black eyed mask than he was with me, or have I just become the face of deception? Contaminated eyes give corrosive glares- the acid tears welled up in Tim's eyes as he looked on at me with sheer disbelief.
'Fuck you.' He mouthed from where he laid on the chilly tiled floor.
How tasteless. I guess the consistent taste of blood would be enough to de-sensitise anyone's tongue and mind. So many years. So much of my efforts gone out the window. So much more than time has been taken. Pathetic. You'd think he'd recognise me.
Seth warned me about Tim. Seth knows and Seth always knew.
Everyone out there thinks they know something. Tim managed to con Jay into his whole 'Masky isn't really me!' act. But I knew. Seth knew. You'd think the smartass would realise who I am. Returning my mind to the present, I shifted my focus to the black haired, dark eyed, onyx hearted Timothy who was wheezing at my feet. I kicked his mask at him so he could make the conscious decision to come back to us. My breathing hitched as I watched Tim draw in the mask- his mask. Steadily, he rose up in his weak state, albeit reluctantly, but I rejoiced in the idea that I had to power to kill him if he burdened me. In fact, it made my mouth foam. I was his first friend and I will be the only. Think of it as punishment for trying to replace me with that useless tool Jay.
Alas, Tim's work here wasn't finished. As silent as ever, I motioned for him to follow me in his usual puppy dog stagger. Having the upper hand was the most favourable position, it's undeniable, but it doesn't matter if you have your back turned. An all too familiar noise of metal scraping across the floor shook me like chains; should I look back or just run?
I opted for the former, contorting my head I realised Tim had picked up a lead pipe with substantial weight. Well, fuck. My heavy boots gave the ground a severe beating as I took off with my heart in my throat and hot blood in my veins. The crumbling walls stained with vulgar grafiti seemed to mock me as I suddenly forgot my way around this place in my hazy panic. A dead end, a balcony, and a choice. Kill myself or get killed. Why does it have to end this way? What will Seth do all by his self? I fought harder than any one of these fuckers- it shouldn't be me dying- THIS IS ALL WRONG.
This is it. Tim forgot me and now he won't even remember killing me because the daft shit doesn't even know it's me. No. No, I won't be forgotten again. Cornered by Tim; I did what I could to stall him.
Tim's P.O.V
Fighting against my shaky vision, I set my sights on the cowering hooded piece of shit that tormented me day and night. What a beautiful end to it all; if anything I deserved this more than he did. For all I cared, the figure wasn't even human. He was always so silent but could worm his way into my mind and bully me into submission. Now, the tables have turned and here I stand with the ultimatum; kill him or get killed. Picking up my pace, I darted towards him and lifted the heafty weapon above my head. Glaring through my watery eyes I was caught off guard by the man slipping his gloved fingers under his mask of similar materials. My arms sluggishly fell limp and I skidded across the hazardous floor and stopped in front of him.
I wish he had never removed his mask.
God, why did he have to remove his mask?