He couldn't stop shaking.
It had been a few days. Or maybe it had only been a day. Jason couldn't tell, he was too exhausted to understand simple concepts such as time. When he had awoke to find he was in control of his own body he had wept for hours, curled up on his bed and refusing to move from it. He had not slept a wink since, the dark circles under his eyes a sure sign he was sleep deprived if not completely and utterly traumatized about what happened to him, confiding himself to his room and not talking to a single soul.
Why did this always happen to him? Why was it when he almost felt comfortable with himself to the point of having just a little confidence something came to snatch it all away. He had known terror before, from the creatures of the dark to the horsemen, but this...this was a thousand times worse. He could not think of a worse torture then to be prisoner to your own body under someone else's control. To be a spectator to watching your friends and allies hurt by your own hands, and being powerless to stop it.
As he lay there he began to realize something. That feeling of being trapped in your own body...was that what Zanthvos felt this whole time? just a spectator, nothing more, trapped in a suffocating cage for all eternity?
The word was meant to comfort and yet he chose to ignore it, moving from his bed with surprising haste out the door. He felt sick to his stomach. Was that how a weapon felt all the time, just a prisoner? Why hadn't he thought about this sooner. Though about him for once.
He barely took notice of what he did, entering the labs and putting his weapon in a golem. Before he knew it Zanthvos stood before him. Yet the wise cracking perverted demon was not smiling today, his face full of concern. It frightened Jason to see him like this. If Zanthvos was concerned then something was wrong, did he know something he himself did not?
"Jason, I'm-"
He put a hand out. "I...need space." No, he didn't need space, he wanted Zanthvos to assure him everything was fine. Before the angel could object he was out of the room and down the hallway.
It was better this way. He couldn't lock his weapon up inside his head. It was horrible, a cruel thing to do.
He looked around his surroundings, a few hunters walking past him and giving him weird looks. Perhaps they were looking because he appeared so disheveled, deep rings under his eyes and hair unkempt, his clothes unchanged for days. Or perhaps they recalled how cruel he had been to them.
Oh gods, he had done so many things. What wretched things he had said to Sherry, to Ace, and he had even hurt people. Joy, Melvin, he was never so glad in his life to be restricted in power but still, his other half... He had wanted to harm others, he had wanted to...even Solia-
It was too much. He couldn't breathe, everything was spinning as he dashed awkwardly to the safety of his dorm room. But the world didn't stop moving and he clutched his chest, breath coming in short rapid gasps. Everything felt wrong and he couldn't focus. Why had he sent Zanthvos away, he needed him...
He was afraid. Gods, what if the other half came back to take him over? He had received help from Alice the last time, but what if she didn't come to help him again? He would be stuck forever, forced to watch this fake version destroy everything he ever loved and care about.
Even Solia...
He was crying again, sobbing uncontrollably and reaching out for something to help him. The dresser next to his bed was opened and he pulled out random items, socks, old reports he hadn't filled out, more clothing -
His hand closed upon the handle of a blade. A old Runic dagger he had accidentally picked up but forgot to turn. The item had laid forgotten in his drawers, up until now.
He stared at the item in a haze of despair and fear. How would he face all his friends now? He had hurt them so badly, how could they ever forgive him? Of course they couldn't, they wouldn't understand what had transpired. No one would believe him...
His thoughts were jumping around, coming to a final conclusion. He couldn't let that thing return. It would hurt everyone.
He couldn't let the copy hurt everyone again...he had to protect everyone.
He had to make it up to everyone he had hurt.
His hands shook, vision blurry as he raised the knife above himself, above his abdominal area.
Hesitation. He stalled. Was he too weak to even do this much?
It would be better for Zanthvos. He wouldn't be confined in the cage that was a hunters mind.
He was so sorry. Everyone was hurt because of him. He was sorry. He was sorry, he was-
He didn't quite remember bringing it down upon himself. But he felt it. There was no shield to protect his human body.
It hurts. It hurts so much. Why did everything have to hurt him.
The hunter hunches over. Already there was blood. What had he struck again, he couldn't tell but it was hurting and he couldn't stop it and someone please help him.
It was leaking everywhere. He couldn't breathe. He coughed, more liquid seeping out. He was choking now, everything was dizzy.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It hurts. It hurts. Zanth where are you, I need you.....
Oh gods....someone...anyone...
He lays on the ground, soaked, reaching out as his mind goes blank.