Six - What You Want

A full three-sixty, a complete return 
With no excuses and no concerns  
The ultra-heavy beat is going strong 
If it feels this good then it can't be wrong
 
Damned if you do and damned if you don't  
You better seize the moment before it's gone  
The ultra-heavy beat goes on and on  
When it's all said and done this is what you want
 - "Risen", KMFDM
Now it was later, and she was upstairs again. Alone.

For several hours, she had sat motionless on her bed. She kept her eyes lifted away from her hands, and tried to pretend that she didn't feel the motion of the Worms under her skin.

Christie had gotten used to that feeling. It had disappeared for a long time, after she had run away from home

killed them both, why hide use the obscuring language inside your own head, it was the right thing to do, no remorse

and become a Runner. But it had never gone away completely. Not really.

just like the shape in the corner isn't going away, you mean, the one that all the Worms lead to

It was a part of life to her, now. She flexed her hands slightly, trying to dispel the vague itching

testing the strength there

and turned her head to look towards the open bathroom door.

away from the corner, but you're just swapping one for another

Her gaze didn't linger there long.

can't stand to look, because you can't hide from a mirror, and yourself is the best thing you could hope to see there, even with the towel over it you remember

It skipped sideways, towards the desk. The map was still there, still unfolded. She knew that someone had been in her room and seen it. If she had actually cared which of them it was, she would have checked the cameras, but she didn't. The map was set out like that exactly so that they would see it, and have the idea that the Trumpeter had been left behind in Indianapolis reinforced.

Sometimes, lies were very useful. And all it took was a little bit of effort, and you could fool anyone.

because you know how they'd react

The Trumpeter had followed her, she knew. She had let herself be followed, because she needed the Trumpeter. She needed a link to the Archangel.

Quietly, she recited a few lines to herself. "That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, were all of them locked up in coffins of black, and by came an Angel who had a bright key, and he opened the coffins and set

james

them all free."

She smiled to herself, a sharp, glassy little smile, brittle-looking and fragile. "The Chimney-Sweeper", by William Blake. She had always liked that poem.

you hated it, but james liked it and he recited it for you and no one had ever done that before

And, in the end, it had inspired her. All she needed was power, and she could change everything. A little bit of power, and the entire world turned.

A thought flickered through her mind. What would you do to save the world?

She shut her eyes.

 Under her skin, the Worms writhed. And, in her head, there was no safety from the accusations. What would you do to save the world? The words took on a venomous, mocking tone. She didn't want to save the world. She was lying to herself, just like she had always lied to herself.

What would you do for a chance to hurt back?

What would you do if you could make the pain stop?

And, in the center of it all, the question around which everything else revolved.

What would you do to see him again?

He hadn't loved her back, she knew that. Not in the way she had wanted him to She didn't even know if she had really loved him. But she did know that, when they had been together, she had... things hadn't been so painful.

And that was it, ultimately. She was miserable, and had always been miserable, and when he had been around it hadn't been so bad. When James had been there, there was something that made her feel good.

What would you do to feel that again?

She knew the answer. She had known it since she had first felt it.

What would you do to make the pain stop?

She opened her eyes, and there was something cold and determined in them as she answered herself.

I would burn down the world.

I know, came the answer, from inside her own head. I know I would. And, you know, I think that's the worst part.

The shape in the corner stirred.

Knowing that, I mean. That I never did escape her. Because it's not something simple and stupid like getting that mask stapled to your face. It's not some sort of ritual. She won. She turned me into something so broken and crazy that I'd kill everyone and everything just to have my crush hug me again. That I'd lie to myself every night while I came up with the plans to do it, so I could convince myself to keep going for a few minutes longer, because letting go means accepting that I'd hurt like this forever.

I lie to myself because if I look at the shape in the corner too long, it looks like me.

And even knowing that doesn't stop me.

She stepped into the bathroom and raised a hand to the towel that she had secured over the mirror.

The only question left is, what would I do?

She pulled it aside.
The only question left is, how far would I go?

And saw The Rake.