There were many screams that echoed through the darkness. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel an exhilaration mixed with the copper scent in the air. Joey could hear each cry for help loud and clear. His mind could not wrap around the thrill, and somewhere in his heart that fact terrified him.

"No! My daughter!" a woman's voice screeched desperately. There were various half crunching half squishing noises that filled the air, followed by the painful screams of a small child. Joey inhaled the blood scent deeply, his body craving more like a drug.

Yes, the smell was his drug and the sounds were his hype. Each scream...each bone crushing sound...each gush of blood was an urge to continue. It was as if the awful things wanted him to continue destroying blindly. There was no stopping this feeling.

There was no stopping him.

"Please, I beg of you!" a male's voice whimpered, "Spare me! Please!"

"No," was the simple answer. Some part of Joey found contact with the man's skull and smashed it. The sound pleased him, the scent filled him, and the adrenaline pumped through his veins like electricity.

It was fun.

...and that scared him. Somewhere almost the chaos, Joey was afraid. He wasn't afraid that he was brutally and mercilessly killing; he was afraid because he liked it. It must have been the fear that pulled him back from the darkness.

Things started to drift into the light, the perspective of everything he should have been seeing. Corpses floated lifelessly around his legs in a river of blood. Though the river was still warm, Joey felt the frozen hand of guilt wrap around his body. What had he done?

One of the corpses caught his eye as it drifted by. It was a female, slender in build and average in height. Her short, light brown hair was knotted and caked to her head and face with the crimson liquid. Her blue eyes stared up at him with shock and disbelief.

"Tea..." Joey said in a feint voice. He looked to a few of the other faces as they drifted closer to him, recognizing the faces of his friends and loved ones. Yugi, Tristan, Serenity...even Duke and some others. Neighbors, class mates, people he passed everyday...all dead by his hands.

Terrified and shivering, he backed away from the bodies. Tears welled in his eyes as he waded away, trying not to look at the faces around him. His head pounded painfully against his skull and he told himself over and over the hard truth. "I enjoyed slaughtering them...all of them..."

It was no longer fun.

It was not long until Joey came upon a heap of bodies too large to be carried by the crimson river. Something flickered brightly for a second on the mountain of the dead. He wasn't curious, but it drew him. He climbed the heap, hardly able to keep the tears from streaming down his face. His head continued to pound and his ears still heard screaming from the onslaught.

There was a mirror. It flickered light from somewhere Joey could not see. It's black frame was carved with sleek patterns of dragons. Rubies were imbedded in the dragons' eyes. He approached it recklessly, stumbling over someone he did not wish to look at.

His reflection stared at him...or some version of him he did not recognize. Blood was splattered and drench all over his body. Some had gotten on his face and hair. His eyes glowed a dim red around the irises. Black, leathery wings had ripped through his shirt. He reached helplessly towards the mirror with a clawed hand.

Anger flared in Joey's mind. Who the hell was this? What had he become? He hadn't noticed the screams growing louder until he looked to his own expression. The tears and shame were there, along with a pleased grin and smug eyes. Adrenaline kicked in again as the darkness rolled over his eyes in grand return. He couldn't hear his own infuriated cry as he drew a fist back and attacked.

Then there was silence.

--------------

Joey was awakened by the sound of glass shattering against the kitchen floor. His heart beat at an accelerated rate and his entire body ached. Sweat traveled down his spine, causing him to shiver.

There was no screaming, no crushing or gushing noises, no blood, no bodies of friends or family, and certainly no mirror. Instead, there were a few broken glass cups, knives, and other miscellaneous things you would find in a kitchen, all strewn about the floor. Everything that was once on the counters and table seemed to have been cleared off onto the floor. There Joey stood in the middle of it, knowing exactly what had happened.

It had happened before. In fact, it had been happening most of his life. He would get that same exact dream, and then go through some sort of sleepwalking nightmare. It started when his mother and father separated, and his mother had taken Serenity away from him. Joey didn't even know his friends then, but there they were in his dream. He didn't feel any need to share this nightmare with anyone. After all, it only happened a few times out of the year.

"It's been more frequent though," Joey said to himself, recalling the three nights in a row where he had destroyed a part of his apartment in his sleep.

The microwave clock read 3:49 in the morning. He stood silent a few moments, half expecting one of his neighbors, or the people living in the apartment below, to bang on the door, angry at him for awakening them. Nothing happened.

Joey groaned wearily as he stooped to pick up the things on the floor. His arms and legs throbbed. He could imagine that whatever he was doing in his dreams, his body mimicked in real life. It didn't totally explain the pain, but it was a good enough excuse to convince himself to ignore it.

After he got the kitchen back to a relatively normal appearance, he sauntered to the couch and flopped down on it. He couldn't go back to sleep. Instead, he stared dumbly at the ceiling until sunrise. He still didn't want to move; he was too worn.

Ring ring...ring ring...

"Fuck," Joey murmured, burying his face into the couch cushion. He didn't want to deal with anyone today.

Ring ring...ring ring... The phone continued annoyingly. He swore again, noting that his phone had the most aggravating ring in the world. It was loud and unpleasantly high pitched.

Ring ring...ring ring...beep- "Yo! This is Joey. You know what to do," His recorded voice said on the answering machine. Whoever had called hung up without leaving a message, which was just as well as far as he was concerned.

Then the phone started ringing again. This time Joey reached for it off of the stand next to the couch, nearly dropping it onto the floor.

"Hello?" He answered, voice muffled by the couch cushion.

"Joey?" Yugi's voice sounded over the receiver.

"Hey Yug," Joey replied, rolling onto his back, "What's up?"

"Do you want to hang out with us today? Tea, Tristan, and I were going to go to the arcade."

Joey considered it lightly, deciding that his body couldn't handle arcade games. Besides, he was really tired. "Sorry...not today. I don't feel good."

"You said that yesterday and the day before," Yugi said, sounding worried. Joey felt bad. He hated to make his friends worry about him. Yugi asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he lied, "You know what? I'll meet you guys there in thirty minutes. K?"

"Sure. See you there!" Yugi said before hanging up.

Joey laid on the couch a while longer. Most of his energy was drained, just like it had been the past few days. Because of that, he hadn't seen any of his friends. They deserved better. Summoning all the strength that was left, he managed to move off the couch and get dressed. Within 25 minutes, he was standing in the arcade, waiting for the others to show.

Various lights bounced and flickered around the otherwise dim building. The games made random noises. Banging, clanging, blinging, and beeping filled the air, mixing with many voices. They clashed together in a sort of horrid symphony, where none of the instruments complimented each other in sound. It felt hot from all the running machines and people.

Joey's head thumped lightly. He leaned against the wall by the entrance and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew this was going to be a bad idea. He didn't know how bad, but it would be terrible.

A hand slapped his shoulder, jarring him to attention. Tristan grinned stupidly, "Hey man! We missed you!"

Joey put away any evidence that he was feeling miserable and smiled at his three best friends, "Hey guys! Who's ready to get pounded by the great Joey Wheeler at some games?"

"You're looking well," Tea commented, looking at him with teasing eyes, "For someone who isn't feeling well, that is."

"Yeah, well, I'm doing better. Got a problem with that?" He crossed his arms smugly.

Yugi smiled, "It's great to have you back."

"Let's go already!" Tristan exclaimed. He was already heading to a shooting game.

Pretty soon they were all emerged in a game. Joey trounced Tristan in a few games, got trounced by Yugi in another few, and was picked on and cheered by Tea. He pretended that he was having the time of his life, but he could feel himself getting worse. His vision blurred every so often and his head pounded harder. He snuck off to the bathroom when everyone else was distracted.

The bathroom was quieter than the game room. There was a low murmur from outside the door and the buzz of the lights. The stench was really bad, but he tried not to notice. His head was bothering him more.

He leaned over a sink and slashed cool water on his face. It dripped timidly off of his nose and bangs, some snaking down his neck and in his shirt. Joey closed his eyes for a couple seconds, getting dizzy. He grabbed the sides of the sink to keep from toppling over. The action made his arms tremble in protest. They were sore.

"Get a hold of yourself, damnit," Joey grumbled to himself.

Suddenly, it felt like a railroad spike had been hammered into his brain. His knees made a hard thud as they hit the floor. He opened his eyes, but everything was black. Soon, he was no longer gripping the sides of the sink; he was writhing on the floor in pain, gripping his sides as if to keep himself together.

It felt like acid was running through his veins, laced with the same adrenaline thrill he felt in his dreams. Joey was in pain, but at the same time he enjoyed it. His senses were craving blood that, what was left of his conscious mind would not let them have.

His breath was caught in his throat. There was no crying for help, partly because he was trying to endure the searing pain and partly because he didn't want to.

After all, there was no saving him.

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Hope you liked it! Read and reveiw!
-BV

P.S. - I own nothing. DISCLAIMED!