In the Beat of a Wing {boyxboy}

Chapter Twenty-Four

~Monday 11th March 2013~

"Are you going to beat yourself up over this forever? I'm bored, and you're acting pathetic. I don't expect to be summoned for you to whine at me, I would prefer more interesting conversation," Malcolm scowled at his mirror image sitting across from him, those soulless eyes looking at apathetic as usual.

"I can't help being disappointed with-"

"Malcolm, he didn't even receive the full sentence. He's serving two years solely for the possession of a dagger with intent to cause bodily harm. He got off lucky, get over it, move on. I know this isn't why you summoned me," Malcolm sighed, knowing the fake was correct. He had to forget cases once they were over, whether they were a win or a loss. He couldn't let it weigh on him or he wouldn't be able to cope.

"What do I do about Kit?" Malcolm's voice was soft, that familiar sting in his eyes of tears forming. He bit them back, refusing to cry even in front of himself, he hadn't shed a tear for a long time.

"You find the fuckers that did that to her and you return the favour, Malcolm. In fact, let me. Give me control, Malcolm, I'll keep the memories for myself, you won't need to feel a thing," tempting as it was, Malcolm didn't trust the fake. Ironic, that he didn't even trust himself.

"And then what? You'll just relinquish control back to me and allow me to lock you up again?" Malcolm wasn't stupid, he knew that the minute he gave the fake any sense of control he would never get it back. He would no longer be known as a lawyer, no longer enforce the laws of justice, nor would he be able to hold down a stable relationship with Eden. He would be a killer. He would submit to the sadistic, sociopath that resided within him. He would be forever changed.

"I might, should you agree to my terms," Malcolm had no intention of making any sort of deal with the fake, but it amused him to indulge the fantasies his other side had.

"And those would be?"

"I would want to share consciousness. I would give you the control if you let me talk for once in a while. Do you realise how frustrating it can be when I watch you making the incorrect decisions, screaming for you to do the opposite, or to take action when you merely speak? You may think I'm some savage beast but I share in your intelligence, Malcolm, I simply use it from a different perspective," cryptic, as usual.

"So for the low price of your irritating interference in my mind every minute of every day, you would return control to me? That's all it would take?" admittedly, Malcolm was expecting something more outrageous.

"And I would want control long enough to fuck Eden," and there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Not a chance," the fake cocked an eyebrow, a sly smirk lazily tugging at the corners of his lips, "you'd hurt him, you're too rough for him."

"It does amuse me when you lie to yourself, Malcolm. I'm not stupid. You wouldn't ever let me get my hands on him because you're afraid he'd actually enjoy being with me more. You're afraid he would long for what you're physically incapable of providing. Isn't that right?" Malcolm remained silent, scowling once again at the fake.

"We seem to have digressed," Malcolm muttered, seething quietly when the fake chuckled lowly, sometimes it was better to just let it win, "since giving you control is out of the question, what do you suggest I do about Kit?"

"Make the hunters pay. Don't target them, target their families, their children. Do it slow, prolong every second. Start with the eldest, electrocute them, let Leon do it, I'm sure he'd enjoy it. Any other children, the younger ones, make them scream. Take their eyes first, like they did with Kit, take a sense one by one. Mail the pieces to their families one by one. Fingers, then ears, tongue, nose and finally eyes. Dismember the bodies and dissolve the remains in acid. Leave a video, have it circulate the internet as a warning that if hunters want to get children involved, we can be just as ruthless."