Simon's Pov
"Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her." The voice echoed repeatedly as I clenched harder and harder on my head.
"I can't," I cried, but it wouldn't stop.
"Please leave me," I begged; my pleas seemed to be falling on deaf ears. No one came to my rescue; no one cared about me, and the voice in my head wouldn't go away.
It's deafening; my ears are bleeding. My head is throbbing, my knees are weakening, and I'm losing it. I'm going mad.
"Get out of my head!" I screamed as loud as my voice could go in hopes that a miracle would happen. In hopes that this compulsion would end and in hopes that I wouldn't go insane.
I shouldn't have followed her here. I knew something was wrong with me and her, yet I followed her here. Ever since I started having hallucinations of terrible things happening to her, I should have known that it was a sign that Anselm wanted something bad to happen to her. I shouldn't have followed her down here. I shouldn't have…
"Kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill her" The haunting voice repeatedly echoed in my head. My breath was ragged as I tried to control myself. I try to prevent myself from barging out of this room, out of this hospital, and down to the pack house.
Maybe if I kill her, this voice will stop haunting me in my head. Perhaps I wouldn't feel this compulsion anymore.
I can't. I can't do that. I shouldn't have the thought of it in my head. I can't afford to hurt Lenora. I can't do that to her. I should have prevented her from killing Jennifer. I should have done something earlier because I can't handle this anymore. I don't know how much longer I can hold it back.
"Please leave me," I begged, hot tears flowing down my cheeks as I crashed on the floor while my hands were still holding on tight to my head. If only that had helped. If only holding on tight to my head would stop the voice from repeating itself without a pause. If only there were a way to make the voice disappear. It's making me go mad. I can't have this voice playing in my head every second of the day.
"It wasn't even my fault!" I cried out loud. pulling on every strand of my hair. I'm trying different means to stop this voice from echoing in my head. I made a deal with a demon, and I should have known it wasn't free, but it wasn't even my fault.
I didn’t wish to have my soul lost. I didn't want to live this life of despair. I didn't want to be unhappy for the rest of my life. Perhaps I shouldn't have interfered. Perhaps I should have run far away and pretended that I didn't see Holland's skull almost crack in half.
Perhaps I should have looked out for myself rather than others. He was just my half-brother, yet I felt like I was responsible for him, even though he did nothing but hate me for so long afterwards.
I should have just let him die, then I would have had both my soul and the kingdom to myself. I shouldn't have traded my soul with the demon prince on my knees for Holland's life.
I shouldn't have begged Anselm to forgive my brother for his mischief. I shouldn't have sworn to obey his every commandment if he let Holland live. He must have known that a day would come where he might need me to carry out one of his devious plans, and that was why he let me live.
I shouldn't have begged him to erase Holland's memory of the event, and maybe Holland would have shared out of his pain if I really wanted to save him. I regret everything. I regret my decisions. I regret never putting myself first. I regret not loving myself as much as I loved others. I regret ever being born.
"It's enough!" I yelled, but it wouldn’t listen. It wouldn't stop telling me to kill Lenora; it wouldn't stop messing with my head. I've been trying so hard to fight it for so long, but it has finally taken over me. I can't anymore. I need to end this somehow, but I can't bring myself to lay a finger on Lenora. I'd rather end it all right here and right now. I'd rather die than continue living this miserable life. This is the point where I put myself first and end it all.
With my neck twitching, my eyes scanned the room. There must be something in here that'll ease my misery. There must be something in here that can give me joy.
It has been minutes since my eyes have been looking for something, but this room was filled with nothing but the bed and the white walls.
"Please, let there be something," I begged as I fell on my knees, searching under the bed, but there was nothing. There isn't a single thing in this room that will be able to put an end to my misery.
"Fuck!" I cursed as the pain and ache in my head multiplied by a thousand, the voice growing louder and more threatening by the second. Why is this happening all of a sudden?
"Simon?" A soft voice shifted my focus to the door. She shouldn't be here right now. I'm not sure I'd be able to control myself if she entered this room—if I saw her face to face.
I might not be able to stop myself from doing something horrible to her. I might hurt her—she's pregnant and fragile; she can't be here...
"I'm coming in," she said. The door knob turned and opened, revealing the face that has been in my head since forever.
Her smile was bright, almost like she was in a happy mood, but her brows said otherwise as they furrowed. She wasn't happy; she's masking her worries; she's worried for me. She bothers about me.
A single yellow rose was in her hands.
"Hey!" She broke the awkward silence. For some reason, seeing her had quelled the dreadful voice in my head. Hearing her voice has calmed the angry storm in me.
"Hey," I replied. My voice was hoarse, but I coughed it in.
"Look, I'm so sorry for hitting you. I can't imagine the pain you must be going through." Her gaze shifted to the bandage across my chest. If only she knew that that pain was nothing compared to what was going on in my head. If only she knew that it's like a mosquito bite compared to the painful voice that I've been forced to hear in my head.
"Is it unbearable?" She asked.
"Yes," I said. Her shoulders dropped as she walked closer to me; her eyes were filled with sadness and worry as she stared at my eyes with her lips quivering slightly.
She lifted her hands, and as she caressed my cheeks, her soft hands made contact with them.
"You have been crying," she said. I had forgotten that there must have still been some traces of tears on my cheeks and had no time or strength to clean them off before she entered this room.
"Yes," I answered. Swallowing on my dry throat, she cleaned away the little tears from the corner of my eyes while caressing my cheeks softly and slowly. Her hands are warm. I yearn for her warmth.
"I'm sorry for hurting you." She apologized once again as she attempted to remove her hands from my cheeks, but I couldn't let her take away her warmth, so I held her hands, softly pressing them on my cheeks.
"Just a second more," I begged, even if she would need to let go sooner.
The atmosphere between us thickened as I found myself staring at her big brown eyes. Tears seeped through the corners of her eyes. She was feeling guilty—guilt for hurting me, but if only she knew she hadn't inflicted anything resembling pain on me. If only she knew the thoughts that play in my head, she would never feel pity for me again or bother about me.
She removed her hand from my cheek, and I let her.
"I brought a rose for you," she said, handing over the single yellow rose in her hand, and I received it.
"It's beautiful, thank you," I appreciated with a slight smile, and I watched how a genuine smile boomed on her bright and beautiful face. No matter what happens to me, I don't think I can ever bring myself to be the cause of a wrinkle on her precious face.
"I spoke with the doctor, and he said you can stay at the pack house with us, as long as there's a nurse with you. I've arranged for a nurse, and I'm hoping you want to come back with me." She said. The smile on my face dropped. I can't afford to make any more bad decisions.
What if the compulsion returns the moment I get to the pack-house? It'd be hard to ignore it if she was only a few walls away, but what if I remain in the centre of these white walls and it gets the best of me? What if I end up going mad here?
I haven't heard anything since she stepped into this room and after that outrageous outburst of compulsion. Could it be that I'd be better if I were to be close to her?
"Okay, let's go," I answered.
********************************
"Kill her." It's back; the stirring voice has returned. one more time, and I've ended up making a terrible decision. The compulsion didn't leave, and it's back.
This can't be happening; it can't be coming back right now. I can't afford to let it be in my head right now, but no matter how hard I tried to fight it again, it proved to me that it was my superior.
But how do I get out of this dreadful situation? How do I manage to convince it to give me some time to be away from Lenora? It can't be coming back to my head right now, right here, right behind Lenora, with no one else with us as we take a walk on the wet grass outside the pack house and under the serenity of the moonlight.
"Kill her," it said once again. I tried to hopelessly fight it by turning my back and running away from Lenora, but my feet only betrayed me as they ran closer to Lenora rather than away from her. My hands betrayed me as it lifted itself to strike Lenora from behind while my canines grew.
No, this can't be happening. I can't be doing this to her. It feels like I am in a movie. This cannot be real. Someone wake me up from this nightmare and take me back to the time when I was at least happy. When I was a young cub with no understanding of the evils of the world, Please return me to the time before I met Lenora, when I didn't have to care about her. Someone help me. Someone should stop me from striking her with the claws of my hands. Someone stop me. Somebody help. Please.
"Please!" I desperately begged. My claws seem to be moving slowly, yet I can't stop them from reaching for her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Someone screamed. The next thing I could feel was my body being tackled to the ground by a familiar lady. Her eyes were fierce as she stared at me with anger in her eyes. Her screams startled Lenora as she turned to see me on the floor with a perplexed look on her face.
"Jasmine?" Lenora called in shock.
"Thank you," I muttered to her, laying hopelessly on the ground with her body pinning mine to the ground while warm tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I stared at the moonlight.