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Silence, Movement, and Thinking

By Rainbow

Mystery / Thriller

Silence and Thinking

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Silence.

It was the only thing contained in the room. Or for at least my comfort. No lights were turned on, leaving it pitch black. Also to my comfort. Normally someone would want some noise going and the lights on to get rid of any tension, but it was quite unnecessary, if you ask me. Sometimes a little silence is required for thoughts.

Thinking was good, yes. It's like a little conversation with your mind, only you're talking mainly to yourself, or your conscience. Either is rather disturbing and you'll find yourself answering towards things you lie to. Would it count as a lie to lie to a lie? Honesty and truth showing no prevail towards hatred and anger?

Those were just of the few things silence can make you think about. A lot of others, too. Confusing, yes. Understanding, not quite. You're constantly focused on more of your surroundings than of your inner thoughts. When silence comes, you're nothing but a victim towards the ideas you can get.

Thinking was good, indeed. Ideas were good, yes. Doing strange things was good...

Yes?

Being in a cornered room in a straight jacket was good, yes? Quite comfortable. Quite settling. It's just like feeling at home, except you're far from there anymore. In fact, I don't quite remember my home. And neither does anyone in this world, for that matter.

I remember their reactions when they first saw me. Is it human? Is it alive? Does it have feelings?

It.
It.
It.

They are so stupid. When you first see me, I'm just like you, only on the inside. But they're all far to naïve to believe that. What I am supports them. What I used to be is them. I'm only as human as they are.

And they are far from human.

Sadly, they carry the same traits as any "normal" human. They're curious, they choose their beliefs over facts, they're selfish, cruel, greedy, stubborn, etc. All can be proved, and I have gathered enough information to provide so.

Through the silence, I learned that humans tend to be naturally selfish. If they fall in love with something or someone, they want them all to themselves, and if they see someone else have them, they're protective. But what really makes them selfish is their fears.

Fear.

I learned that the top fear of humans is death. It's rather silly, yes. It's all expected the moment they can walk. They're born, they live, and they die. It's all a repeated pattern that everyone is used to and expects. So what in the world would make them afraid of something they expect?

It's unexpected. That's what they expect.

That a meteor would come out of nowhere and kill them, that they'd be shot, all the unexpected. Anything can happen at any time. Most humans choose to believe that they will die of the aging process. That's expected, but yet they choose to be afraid when the time comes and they expect it.

They really cannot change their minds. Unexpected or expected? If it's unexpected, they are unafraid because it is not expected. If it is expected, they're dead afraid of being, well, dead. They become selfish and would do anything to prevent it. Hell, they'd even turn on their own brother just to save their skin.

I smirked at that word. Skin. It was one thing I didn't have and they did. They all took it for granted, using it every day without even knowing. It's the one thing that protects them and keeps them alive, but yet they take it for granted, acting as if everyone had it.

And, well, they all did.

Except for me. I used to have it, but that's a different story. It was truly a shame, seeing how everyone was oblivious to the fact that what they unconsciously use should not be taken for granted. It was silly, yes. Quite presumptuous.

Great, now I'm using long words. A few more years in here and I'll be going mad. Oh, wait, apparently I already have, just like everyone else. I could leave if I wanted to, just like how I came here. It's easy. Just a little flick with my cape and-

Oh, wait, that's gone, too.

Hell, even they took my signature top hat. No one will recognize me in a straight-

Wait, yes they would. It's where I belonged to them. Locked away and hidden from humanity. Of course, I couldn't blame them. Humanity was boring. I'd rather prefer a land where people would scream bloody murder and the air would be hidden by the mist of blood.

Now, THAT was where I belonged.

But, nooo, I was "deranged." I was "insane." What I did and still do isn't "proper," or, "normal."

I rolled my eyes, their words flashing in my mind. Darkness was still in my vision, and I rather enjoyed it. Peaceful, yes. They were ignorant, knowing other people did the same thing I did.

Skinning people alive is common, yes?

Apparently not to them. It's abnormal, it's "sick."

I don't know about them, but I feel perfectly fine, far from sick. Hell, I couldn't even GET sick anymore. What they worried about were hookers, murderers, child molesters, etc. But people who skin other people for satisfaction seemed to surprise them.

I scoffed, wishing I can close my eyes. They all saw it in horror movies, therefore it shouldn't be so surprising. Apparently it was too hard to believe such an action. I'm not the first, even though I wish I was.

"Insane" is rather an odd word to describe me. Where I come from, there is no such thing as "sanity." It's a line broken a long time ago, and everyone is free to cross it. It divides what's real with what's fun, and that border needed to broken in this place. It was all too formal and boring.

Is this really where Janice comes from? I felt my smile return on my imaginative face. Janice. Was she in this world at this moment or back at home? I was probably all over the news by now. I hoped she would hear my name and coward by the mention of it, just like that kid in the Laughingstock Crew.

What his name again? Patch?

Ooh, wait, Percy. Yeah, that's it. They would be dead by now from me if it weren't for that old man. My smile vanished at the thought of him. Pure hatred was what I felt for the man. Why couldn't he just let me have their skin like all my other victims? He never stopped me from trying them, but why couldn't he let his own crew go?

It was all that little girl's fault. The man barely cared for Percy. Why was he so overprotective of the girl? She was such a scared type. Just like everyone else where she comes from.

I shook the thoughts off of them. What I should be focusing on is to get my damn accessories back. The so-called "doctors" wouldn't give it back until I addressed them who I was.

During my little "conversations" with them, I never had talked. They acted friendly towards me. Saying: "We just want to talk, we can become friends."

I laughed at the thought. How many times was THAT repeated? I wasn't stupid. Talking is no ounce of affection towards such a relationship. Not even as "friends." I had no friends. I wanted no friends. I needed no friends. Being alone is much more better than having someone care for you.

Alone is good, yes. Independent is good, yes. Not having "friends." The only person that was even close to get me to caring was probably no one. Not even Horace got me to care, no matter how many times he may get me to think otherwise.

The "doctors" would ask: "Where are you from?" "Who are you?" "Do you still have your voice?" "Are you uncomfortable?"

I remain silent, just like the room. Who are they to ask so many questions when they don't even know my name? No one knows my name. I go by what people know me for. What makes me known.

Of course, I have a million of restraints on me and guards by my side whenever I'm in a room. When they leave me alone without restraints, someone dies. I don't know where they get the idea of me doing it, since they always see them without skin.

So, I'm always forced to hear their stupid questions that are left unanswered. I want to rip their flesh straight off their bones, but that'd be unnecessary. THEY have MY suit, where I PUT it all on, so I would be left with nothing but skin that would fall onto the floor. Pathetic.

The only time they'd get a single pipe out of me is when they ask a recurring question I've heard so many times before. "Why does your jaw move back and forth like that?"

And I just grin before replying, "TO GRIND YOUR SKIN!"

Then the guards would have to hold me from jumping up or breaking from the restraints, which HAS happened before. The doctors would show no expression but write something down.

See? Friends show no betrayal, and they show lots of it. It's why I show no care for anyone nor trust. That'd be too easy to break.

And I am NOT easy to break. It's why I enjoy breaking others. It's much more fun.

I see other members like me in this "prison." It's rare for them to see me without a straight jacket, but I always tend to slip it off. I'm already thin to a bone, and I rather prefer no excess clothing on me. It's unnecessary if I have nothing to show, so I never wear a shirt nor pants. And the clothing they stuck on me goes right against that.

It's not like I can't rip it off, I just don't want to drive any more suspicions than I already have. I want to leave the place, but yet it's more comforting than facing an old man with a 7-year old and a coward on his crew.

Whenever I see these other fellow "members," they always tend to judge me. They call me scrawny, big-eyed, almost anything to piss me off. They don't know what I'm there for because no one knows who I am, so I'm only to just smile.

Well, I can only tell you this, they weren't able to save their skin, which is why I'm separated from all them. The guards tend to relate me to this "Joker" person. And, honestly, he sounds normal compared to this place.

I slowly rocked back and forth, staring right back into the darkness. Movement is comforting, no matter what situation you're in. Silence, thinking, and movement. Very comforting, yes.

I slipped off the straightjacket as I then stretched, hearing the crack of my bones in doing so. If they really think they can keep the Skin Taker cornered, they have another thing coming. But, for now, I think I'll just play the waiting game until they recognize the different DNA stored inside each skin sewn onto my cape and/or top hat.

Then I'll make my action.

But, for now: Silence, thinking, and movement.

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Chapters
1. Silence and Thinking
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