Okay, here's the scene with the self-mutilation:
Empty. So empty…So alone…
This body…it was this body that kept him in. That forced him to be so alone. There was such a large space, there inside his mind. But it was empty. There was something missing.
Something missing…
The others weren’t there anymore. They were on the outside, in the same horrible state he was. Trapped in a body they didn’t know or understand. Apart, they were incomplete. Incomplete and alone.
He was going to die from this. From all of it. The loneliness, the emptiness, the pain. He wanted to die from it. But he couldn’t. He could never die, no matter how badly he wanted it.
He sat there, in the little stone room. He had had an oil lamp some time ago; it lay smashed against the other wall. There was a dagger near him on the floor; he could feel it’s leather handle near his left hand. No light, though. There was only darkness here now; the others were far away, farther than usual. But he no longer cared. He would be happy to stop feeling completely, if he couldn’t feel whole again.
Happy…
How long had it been since he had been truly happy? Years? Centuries? Yes, that was right. Centuries. Many of them. Nearly twenty of them. He hadn’t been happy in two thousand years. Ever since he had lost her.
Charis…
Charis. Where had she gone? Why wasn’t she there again? Fragments of memories flashed through his mind; her usually smiling face contorted with pain, trying to hide it to keep him happy. She had loved him…
“Charis…Charis…” He spoke the word softly, over and over, soon becoming a morbid chant. “Charis. Charis. Charis.” His voice was growing louder and louder, to an almost deafening pitch that ricocheted off the stone walls. It almost sounded like someone else was saying it, like he wasn’t alone.
Slowly, almost tentatively, he tilted his head back, shouting the name to the darkness that surrounded him, listening to the sweet, comforting sound that rang painfully in his ears, his throat protesting fiercely at exertion after so long without being used. He shouted again and again, until his throat bled and all that could be forced from his lips was a low rasping sound.
He broke down then, for possibly the thousandth time, falling to the ground, his body shaking violently with sobs.
This body had taken everything from him. He was alone and empty inside it. It’s eyes, so terrifying to every human who saw it. They made sure that no one would speak to him, or even look at him. He was alone, and even the smallest comfort of that echoing voice had been snatched away.
He seized up the dagger again, the one that had been left on the ground. He slashed into the arms of the body that encased him, then the legs, and the torso. He could feel the seering pain course through him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now.
Let me out! He screamed to the emptiness in his mind. Let me go!
He felt his leg come into contact with something large and hard that sloshed noisily when touched. It was the oil for his lamp, the one he had broken weeks before.
He snatched it desperately, ripping open the container and allowing the oil to pour over the gashes, seeping into each and every wound. It would have been enough to make any man scream, but he was too far beyond the pain to notice anything but a distant stinging. All he knew was that it wasn’t working.
He took up the blade again, digging it deeper and deeper into his body, until his ribs were visible through the cuts, and his left arm was rendered utterly useless, the muscles and nerves severely mangled. And still he slashed.
Maybe it was the horrible pain of being in the body. Maybe it was because he knew, no matter how damaged the flesh was, it would be repaired soon enough. He didn’t know why he did it. He only knew that he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
His vision was suddenly obscured by a blinding light that made his eyes water and sting. He heard a familiar voice, close by, yet so much farther than it should have been.
“Gabriel? Gabriel, what—Daniel, stay there!” The light disappeared, and there were hurried footsteps running towards him. He could feel the other’s presence nearby, and then the blade being wrenched from his weak grip.
“It wont let me out…” He whispered hoarsely.
“Gabriel…”
“It wont let me out!” He tried to shout the words, but all that came out was another gravely, barely audible whisper that scraped against the inside of his throat.
“Calm down…” The other whispered, and he felt a heavy cloth sliding to cover his damaged body, shielding him. “It will be okay, Gabriel.”
“Stop calling me that…” He whispered. “It isn’t my name.”
“Would you like another one?” The other offered quickly, his desperation to take control of the situation clear in his tone. “We have had these ones for so long. You can change it to whatever you like, just like before.”
“No…” He whispered. “I don’t want a new name. Gabriel is not my name, nor is any other name in existence.” He reached out, finding the other’s arm in the darkness and gripping it tightly. “Just like you are not Derek.”
A soft sigh greeted his words, and an arm encircled his shoulders. “Lay down, Gabriel. Sleep.”
“No!” He pulled away sharply. “I can’t do this! I can’t stay in this body!”
Derek reached out, gently touching the other. “You have no other choice.”
Gabriel’s body convulsed, and he slumped to the ground. “I cant stand it! It’s so empty here. Before, there were voices! Yours and his. And others, too. Wanting things. And if I needed to, I would tell them they couldn’t have what they wanted. That it would hurt others. He never listened, but I could keep him under control, just like you could! He never hurt people there. He, and you, and the others. You all wanted things.
“But I never did. All I wanted was to be as I was. I was happy! But they aren’t there anymore! None of you are.” He looked up, the pitch black eyes shining through the blood and tears that covered his face.
“You were always in charge, Derek. You always had the power. I was happy then. I just want things to go back to how they were. I don’t want this. Being trapped in this body alone. I hate it! Wanting things that I can never have. Wanting her! It’s horrible; she’s here in my mind, but not like the others. She’s just a ghost now. Just there to torment me.
“But I don’t need her. Not if I have the voices again. I can live without her if you put us back the way we were. Please, Derek. Please make us whole again. Make things like they used to be. You can…You were always in control…”
He felt arms around him, holding him tightly. “I can’t.” Derek whispered. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I don’t know how.”
He didn’t answer, just allowed himself to be laid on his back and wrapped tightly in the heavy cloth, making it impossible for him to reach the knife again.
“I promise you.” Derek whispered somewhere above him. “The pain will pass. Like it has every other time.”
So yeah...Too graphic or not?
