fear-is-nameless:

“Don’t you guys get it?! This is exactly what he wants!”

Through the bars of his prison, Jack watched as an endless
array of ideas and theories discussed Anti’s next move. He shuffled forward on
trembling legs until the chains were taut behind him, ignoring the fresh blood
seeping from under the shackles around his raw wrists.

“Please stop…” He whispered. “Please stop. Stop it. Stop!
STOP!!” There was no pause in the continuous stream. Something snapped. He drew a shaky breath and wailed in desperation;

“Why can’t you hear me?!”

Jack fell to his knees as his legs gave way. The question he
had asked himself for so long echoed over and over in his ears. Hopelessness consumed him as he realized freedom from Anti’s control never
seemed more distant. He was so sick of all this…

“D͘on̕’̀t w͢or҉r̕y͢ ͜J̴a̶c̀k̕… A̧t l̕ęas̡t I h͡ear y̡ou̴.”

He looked up and saw it was Anti. Jack didn’t stand and face him, and he wondered if he no longer
had the strength to do so- or if there was any point. He tried to push the
thought away, glancing back to his community’s

predictions.

Anti followed his gaze, and chuckled. “Hǫw҉ ͟bli͢n͜d́ the̛ý are to see th̡e҉ir͘ ̴a͠ct̕io̶ns o̴nl͡y͜ co̴n̕t̡inu̶es ͝to̡ giv͝e ̸m̶e ͏p̢o͝w͏ȩr̢…̨ ̵And le̢a̛ve͘s͘ ýou ̴mơr͠e br̶oke̵n͠ da̢y by̷

da̢y.”

Jack didn’t answer, though he felt a knife stab through his
heart at the accuracy of Anti’s words. Surely by now they would know
the effect of what they’re doing, right?… Right?

“If th̀a̕t̛ ͢w͝as ̀t͘he case, ͞wh͢y c̀a̵n’t th̛e̵y ̧sto͠p them̧s͟elve̛s͝?̢ The̷y’re ͘no͡t ͘s͢tup̢id ̴Jack, the͠y̵’͢ve s͟ol͠vȩd toughe͜r rid͢dles̛ ̢before͜.” He gestured to
the cell and bloody manacles. “B̀u͘t͢ ̕why nǫţ this͏?”

Jack visibly winced. “If I knew the answer, don’t you think I
would have said it?!” He snapped, with little conviction.

Anti blinked, looking mockingly upset. “Óh͏,́ but J̢ack- ͢I ́tḩink̢ w͝e ͏bót́h ̧kno͢w̢ th͠e̷ r͠e̵as͏on; but the͝ t͟r̶uth̛ ís ̴s̷o ̡pa̧inf͘u͝l͟ t̛hàt ne̷it̡her o̶f us ̧wa̶nt̕ to ̷sày͡ wh͜y.

”

“… Truth?” Jack asked carefully. He knew deep down he shouldn’t listen, but he wanted some sort of answer. Anti walked slowly back
and forth in front of the bars, his face subtly thoughtful. He let the silence
drag on until he smirked.

“Pe̸rhap̨s…͡ Th͘ey͟ k͏no͝w͘ ex̷áct̶ly wh̕at̛ thęy͘’re do̵iǹg- a͝n͏d̷ no lònger͝ thìnk ̸y͝ou̷’͢r̢e͢ wor̨t͟h͝ ͠sa̵v̢ing.”

Jack was horrified, he found it difficult
to breath. “N-no.” He stuttered, shaking his head. “They…
Wouldn’t- couldn’t do that!” His mind was racing. Why
thoug-

“I’m̕ ̕ţh̨e͞i̴r ̧cr̢e̕at̷i̸o͠n ̀Jack͝; th͟e͞ir fa͟vo̕r̛ite ͜bo҉y.̛ Wh̶a͟t̶ if̶ ̡they ́k̀ne͟w̷ a̢b̶out my͘ ̧‘p͏r͜etend͝in̷g’ t͠rick̨ ̡al̕l̕ a͡l͢óng̡?” Anti’s eyes glowed bright in the
darkness, and he smiled wickedly. “Àf̀te͞r a͜l͟l;̀ it’s ͠me t̸hey̵’ve͟ a̸l̛w̵ay̨s̢ ̛wan͜ted͜ ͏ţo ̧s͏ee. T̵ḩi̡s is ex҉actl͢y̛ what̀ ̛t̵hey͞ w͢ánt͟!”

Jack looked at Anti, feeling numb. “But… You’re not me.” His voice wobbled, and Anti raised an eyebrow.

“So̢? ̡If̛ I can ͢s̷ti̕l̶l b͠e̴ ̷the̴re for ̡t̀h̢e̷ ͟b̢ot҉h ơf u̶s- w̶hy w͜ou̧l͢d the̶y̛ ev̨e̛r̡ ͜w͘an͠t̷ Y̛O͜U to͞ ͢c͟o̴me̶ b̡ac͠k?”

The knife cut itself through Jack’s heart and twisted deeper than ever before. As much as he tried to deny it, Anti’s claims made sense. Why would they abandon me? Don’t I matter more than Anti?

“Fac͜ȩ i͜t, th̕ey’̵v̶e a͘lw̛ays͞

been ̀on my sid͞e; tŕyi͟ng ͜to ̛fo͟r͘get̵ y̕o͏u for̵ mé…̨ If͡ t͠hey w̧an̷teḑ t̛o s̴a̴vę yo͠u̡, then ̵w͜hy d͘o̡ t̡heý ign̛o͝ŕe y̨o̸u͜r p̕at̷hetic͜ cri͘es ͏for ̛h͠elp͢?̧” Anti’s voice suddenly lost all its
distortion. “’Help me! Please- someone
help me!! PLEASE!’” The pain was not faked, or
exaggerated.  

Jack had lost count how many times he screamed those words. How
hopeful he was in the beginning; that his community would hear and save him from this nightmare,
how he hard he fought- thinking someone, anyone would listen…

“Bu ̶t  n̨obody ca̛me.”  

The knife twisted yet again, and with it came a spark of
anger. Not at Anti… It grew and
spread inside him like an inferno. For the first time, he accepted without doubt that this
was their fault. Jack’s head fell to his chest, and he began
to shake.

How could they let this happen?! His hands clenched into fists. I thought they cared about me!

He grit his teeth. If that was the case, why didn’t they do ANYTHING?!… Why didn’t they at least try? Anti is right.
I should never have believed their lies.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “I̶’̕m s͜o͟r͡ry, J̶a̷c̛k.”
Anti sounded genuine. Jack didn’t respond, but glared at the ground through
eyes like slits.

“͞Do ͜yoư w͜a͝nt to ̧ta̸lk ̧to them̧?… ҉Le͞t ̢t͠h͝em ͞kn͜o̢ẁ ho̧w ͞you͡ ̧f̡eeĺ?”

Jack felt the rage grow within him, and realized without
concern that it felt good. He looked up.

“Yes.”

Anti smiled, and though Jack knew he should be afraid of the
gleeful expression hidden poorly on his face, that this was a huge mistake; he no
longer cared.

The world slowly faded into utter darkness. Harsh colors
suddenly blossomed across his vision, and he looked quickly away, not used to
looking at the world with his own eyes after so long. When they adjusted, Jack
found himself sitting at his desk; the camera in front of him was already up
and running with his own face taking up the entire computer screen.

Jack stared back at the image for several, silent moments. He no longer recognized himself- but it didn’t matter anymore. That wasn’t his fault.

He remembered what happened. He knew what kind of people they were.

Reaching for the camera, he started recording.

aww im now sad 😦