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half Iago, half Fu Manchu, all bastard
[ *  *  *  *  * ]

Dom's voice was soft, a whisper, nothing more, as he stared at Alex in confusion and mounting horror. That didn't make sense. It didn't make - it didn't make any sense. He turned, one hand coming up to scrub at his forehead, the other hovering at his side as if uncertain what to do. None of this was...he didn't understand. And his head hurt. Fuck, it hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut for a bare moment, opening them again only to start backwards. He hadn't heard her move, but Abby was standing in front of him.

She looked...different. There was a bruise sharply highlighted on her face, in the same place as his own, and her expression was twisted and ugly. Her clothing was dirty, ripped, smudged with blood. Had she always been like this. He didn't think - but his mind was hazy. Nothing was...things were too confusing. He didn't, he couldn't. He started to back away, stumbling slightly over his own feet, holding his hands out in front of him.

Abby followed, but even her walk was wrong. Stalking, swaggering, angry. It reminded him of someone, but his mind wouldn't retrieve the memory. Her voice hissed between her teeth, berating him, more angry than he had ever before heard. "He's lying, Dom. You can't trust him. Don't listen to him. He'll hurt you. He'll kill you."

Dominic shook his head, backing up another step. His back connected with the tree, giving him no other option but to stop. His voice shook as he spoke. "I don't...Alex, what's going on? What - what do you mean, she's not..."

"He's lying!" Her voice was a shriek, now, hysterically high-pitched, face screwed up in fury and fear. "He'll kill you! He'll kill you! You are going to die!" Her face contorted, stretched, melted like warm taffy. Tiffany Baker stood in front of him with a bullet hole spilling blood and grey tissue down either side of her face like macabre clown makeup. Her voice was deep, distorted. The forest around her blurred. "You can't save anyone. You couldn't save me." A smile split her face in two, flesh cracking and peeling until Philip Ward smirked at him, teeth crooked and sharp. Silver claws grew from his hands, shining dully in the light. "Can't even save yourself, you fucker." Coming ever closer, reaching up the blades to rip them down his face, pulling off chunks of skin like string cheese, underneath it an all too familiar face.

Dominic made a soft, helpless noise in his throat as he stared up at himself. Battered and bloody, clothing ripped and liberally soaked in crimson, he had a gun in one hand and Philip's claws in the other. The severed, dripping head of Alexander Seymour hung off of them. The dead boy had a faintly surprised look on his face. "One way to survive," the other Dominic said, smiling even as blood bubbled between his teeth. "One way to be saved."

Dominic shook his head, back sliding down the tree until he sat in the dirt at its base. "No. No. Not real. He said..." He couldn't take his eyes off the head, swinging back and forth. The rest of the world was blurring, spinning, canting crazily around him. "He said it wasn't real."

"Oh, bucko," the other Dominic said, and then he was reaching a hand out to roughly grab Dom's face. His teeth clicked onto his lip, sending a wash of copper into his mouth, and the other Dominic smirked as he smeared the blood with his thumb, pulling it back and licking it thoughtfully, "This is as real as it gets."

And then he was gone. But Dominic didn't notice, eyes screwed shut against the sight, sobs catching in his throat, confronted once more with the reality of the world around him, ironically delivered through his own fevered mind.

marc st. yves

light it up or burn it down we'll all die in fire

lydia hausen

if you don't look down you don't have to fall

sebastian conway

everything will be okay in the end

(so you've got to keep in mind, when you try to change the world for the better not everybody's gonna be on your side)
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If That Looking Glass Gets Broke · The Woods: Inland