>>6303961>>6303973>>6303985>>6303993>>6304006"I've met the voice in my head already, pretty lady in red." You grunt, ignoring his grimace. "Who are you really?"
"You dare?" He spits with righteous indignation. "I am your master! I am the Dark God! I am the OMEGA!"
You grit your teeth as the heat edges on overbearing but you focus your mind. Detective Jones techniques keeping you anchored in the reality that is now striking you: this is YOUR mind. You know his game, you've seen how he runs it, you won't let whatever he is get under your skin.
"Like I already said. The voice in my head is a schizo in a tight red number. Maybe you'd be more convincing if you tried it on?" You watch as his eyes flash brightly. "Oh shit-"
You barely get the words out before you feel your feet leave the floor as two grey hands close around your throat and lift you. Your hands fly to his wrists and it feels like grasping a hot iron but you know it's all in your head. The pressure around your throat is that of an industrial vice but you resist the urge to panic. This is still in your mind and your mind still answers to you above all, even if it doesn't realize it. You thank Kimble for the advice to move your spare gun, you've been annoyed by the feeling of it digging in the small of your back for days now. So annoyed in fact, you've always been aware of it subconsciously even now... You release his wrists and your arms fall limply to the side. His grimace turns to a cruel sneer.
"Will you submit, worm!?" He roars, flecking your face with sizzling spittle.
"Alwa-" You croak, trying to force the words through your pinched throat but they are cut short.
He eases his grip allowing you to breathe again.
"Speak. Declare your subservience."
"Always... keep control of the hands." You wheeze, as your right hand finds the familiar grip of your weapon.
"What drivel are you spea-"
"Bang." You cut him off with a grin as a gunshot rings out.
His red eyes go large as gun smoke furls upwards, it's acrid scent sweet as roses to you right now. His hands loosen and you drop to the floor on a single knee. The air rushing back into your lungs. You glance up and see him put a hand to a small hole in his strange outfit, more like armor, before his face twists into something you can almost recognize as a grin.
"You are not as docile as the other." He says almost to himself as the hole in his form seals itself and he swipes away the remnants of gunpowder as he seems caught in a thought.
"I've got my father's temper."
"Hmph." He scoffs, nearly amused.
>"So you're the one digging through Vic's head. I only have one question. Why bother?">"You followed me from Vic's mind didn't you? Why couldn't you reach me before.">"Vic might be a nuts. But he isn't an idiot, what did you show him to get him to kneel?">"If you're so tough why the mind games? Why whisper in the ears of pawns? Scared to step out yourself?">Continue firing until the cylinder runs dry.>Write-In 