My old wardrobe had been taken away. My home was burned to the ground. All these things, I couldn't blame him for. I did this to myself; all he did was suggest what would be a "good idea." I still can hear his lizard like voice say cheap one liners like that.
Living on the street had done a number on my physical appearance. My hair had grown out and my face was burried in a bushy red beard. I still had the clothing that I gained when I was a teen, and they were growing too short for me. If I were to fight this demon version of myself, I needed to shape up.
Although I hate the idea of stealing, I had some comfort in stealing items that existed in my own mind. This city that had grown in my brain was just a bone yard of retail stores and grocery stores. All were created for some story that I created, which meant I was familiar to them.
The particular store I stumbled upon existed in my story of Club Red. Ironically, it was the first story he and I wrote together. By wrote together, I mean I wrote it and he took the credit. It was just another spare thought of a store that I left behind.
I broke the glass to the store and entered.
Everything in the store was covered in a thick layer of dust. The clothing was half molded and the items in the store were nameless because I did not feel the need to create names for products in a store who was just a background layout.
I got to work immediatly. I grabbed some razors and shaved. I shaved my head and my face, saving a little room on my lip and chin for a goatee. Then, I pulled my dirt covered child clothing off. I took a little quick bath in the bathroom sink. For a moment, I glanced in the mirror and studied the appearance. Unlike the other, I was human looking. He looked more pale and colder, where as I was more pink and warm.
There were always subtle differences between us. Naturally, he posed my likeness to avoid attention in my mind, but he could not look entirely like me. I was larger, more stocky. He was thin and perfect in the way media believes in perfection. I had dark brown eyes and had odd shaped teeth. He had yellow eyes and white teeth that would make any celebrity cry. Other than the obvious, he and I looked almost exactly the same. That was the idea. He had to look like me to trust him and for others that inhabited my mind to trust him.
After my glance into the broken mirror, I studied myself for a moment. Something had changed, other than my adult face. Something was different in my expression. I was stronger looking. I seemed less weak than I did when this first started.
I took advantage of the empty store, taking clothing like black slacks, a blue button up shirt and a black tie. I found a pair of eighties glasses and a black fedora. The last touch to my outfit was the red and black feather that would sit in my band on my hat, which I gained from a feather duster. I put these items on and stood in front of the mirror to make sure everything was on right. Again, there were differences. My hat was slightly dirty and old; my tie was cheap and my shirt held some pats of dust, however I looked the part. I slowly slipped on the glasses and stared into the mirror.
If he dared to take my look, I shall take his. I will mimic him to stroll through my mind, which held many characters hunting me down.
As I walked out of the store, I grabbed two other things that would aid me in my war against him. A black duster that ran down to my ankles. Finally, an electronic cigarette. Granted, I knew he smoked real cigarettes, but I had come to like the taste and feeling of the vapor in electronic cigarettes.
I slipped on my sneakers and walked out into the world, not as my old self, but as a new being.
My shaded eyes turned to the cloud covered skies. The large masses of grey and black morphed and changed. I closed my eyes tightly.
"Hear me, Father, I go into war with my mind! I am ready to come into being! I will rage war with those that turned me into this monster you see before you! I will save the city called my brain and clean it up! As it will be in here, it will be in the real world! This city will stand for purity and for you! It will serve only one master, you! I will only serve one master, you!" I lifted my hands to the sky. "Abba! All I ask is enough power to fight him back! All I ask is enough strength to stand against him! All I ask is for you to grant me one last chance to set things right!"
A thunder rolled through the clouds. Something was stirring. The wind grew harsher and pushed the clouds. As I opened my eyes, I saw a thick streak of yellow lightening cross the sky, followed by another. Another yellow streak of lightening struck and flew down towards me. I closed my eyes and smiled. He had answered my prayers. I was suddenly filled with a flood of emotion and memories. My body felt stronger and my mind felt wiser. I opened my eyes and held out my arms. My body took flight, first in a fast float and then into a fast stream through the air, towards the upper portion of the city in my mind.
Time was about to change, because the original was going to strike like lightening and his voice will sound like the thunder. No longer will I fall ill to the suggestions of a demon. No longer will this city stand in the bold memory of the torture I put it through. It was time for The Night Author to fall by the hands of Ray Homan, the true Night Author. Yet, before I could rage war with him, I needed to gain more power and needed to gain aid.
I knew that he had silenced them for all these years to make me numb to the world on the outside. In someway, many said that they were dead. However, I knew that if I still existed, then they still lived. The ego's capitol had been shut down years prior to the present. If I knew anything about him, he would remain in his building of knowledge, continuing to straighten what had been disfigured. The super-ego was rumored to be dead and I lacked any knowledge of his where abouts. If I were to find the super-ego, I would need to gain aid in the logic department from the ego.
The id, as I knew him in the past, would have chased the coat tail of the demon that looked like me. I knew what he had to offer was exactly what the id wanted for many years: fame, glory, sex, food and other primal instincts. Yet, I also knew the id knew better than to trust a man like The Night Author.
The id would have hid in the back corners of my mind. His flamboyant personality was something I needed, but not yet.
I needed knowledge. I need wisedom. I needed control. I needed the ego and he was my first target.
--Night
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