The Voice.

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee sucks in his breath, blinks, and once again awakens in a pitch black room, the only source of light coming from a spotlight that shined down on him.

Man, this schtick was getting old.

"Ahahaha! Weakling! Once again brought low by some smarmy asshole that thinks themselves all high and mighty. What a pathetic excuse for a High-Blood!"

Oh. Oh god no. Please no. Why? Why now? Why at this moment?

"Becuase you're about to fucking bite the big one, sorry ass motherfucker."

This voice. It was him. He knew it was him. Him as in Gamzee, the voice was literally Gamzee's. But his mouth wasn't moving, so it couldn't be him.

Then, from behind him: "Boo!"

The Violet-Blood jumps about two feet backwards, almost stumbling and falling on his ass. He twirls around to stare at-

himself. Again.

Man, this shitck was getting old.

"Looks like you're in a jam, jelly blood. Need some help with that?!" The copycat smiles a vicious smile, revealing his dagger like teeth.

No, no I fucking don't, Gamzee thinks to himself.

"Yes. You do. You really, really do!" The voice alternated, speaking menacingly low one sentence, terrifyingly shouty the next. But not Karkat shouty - shit was just plain demonic.

Fuck off!

And why can't I talk? he wonders.

"Because you already gave me control, motherfucker. So you might as well just sit back and watch this motherfuckin' performance! I'm sure you'll love my act."

Gamzee feels of his face, his fingertips brushing along where his lips should be. He finds them sewn together, stitched shut with black twine. Periwinkle tears stream down the boy's cheeks as his muffled screams of agony once again mix with his own wretched laughter.

I don't want this! I don't want it! he cries, almost hysterical.

"Oh but you do, motherfucker. You do! You really gonna let dear old Straz go down fighting, alone? Gonna let him die?! Scared? Ripped to shreds?!" the voice takes a moment to savor Gamzee's misery before continuing, "are you really going to let down your friend?"

Fuck you! He ain't gonna die, motherfucker. He ain't.

"That so, motherfucker?! If he isn't...then you are. Damn straight, you idiot! If he doesn't, then you will. Die alone! Separated. A failure! You need me, brother. Us! You are us. We are you!"

Gamzee shudders, dropping down and hugging his knees to his chin.

"Think of it this way, you motherfuckin' joke. You won't be a waste! You can take this false god with you. Murder him! Destroy him. Kill 'em! Save Strazio."

Silence, for a while. The Voice stands there, orange eyes each embers in the black backdrop of this hellish void. He stares at Gamzee for what seems like centuries.

That last one. That last phrase.

That was the only reason Gamzee relinquished control.