A New Identity Emerges

“Leave,” I replied. “I don’t need either of you anymore. What I feel coursing through my body has opened my eyes to what was holding me back. It was the pair of you. I don’t have a desire to feel hate, rage, or jealousy. I have the only thing I’ve ever desired.”

I found myself frozen in my crouched position, staring at the detective. Her wounds were bad, and she, like me, was covered in blood. I could feel the blood run over my knuckles like thick syrup, my senses so heightened I could hear it hit the floor. 

The whole area smelled of blood, that metallic scent from all the iron in mortal’s bodies. I was transfixed, staring down at her wounds like they were something foreign to me. I was no stranger to blood, violence, and death, but for some reason, I didn’t know what to do.   

Fear gripped me tightly. I felt the powerful emotion clamp down on my heart and twist like the fear meant to wring my heart out and drain all the feeling out of me. I was no longer angry or hateful. There was no need to be jealous, so that felt to me like a fading memory. 

I forced myself to turn around, gazing at my two minions. Hatred gasped for air as it appeared difficult for her to breathe while she slumped in Jealousy’s arms. Jealousy scowled at me with contempt. My actions had angered him beyond what I had ever seen, and my powerful grip seemed to be too intense for Hatred to endure. 

I looked at the blood-soaked floor, littered with broken glass and bullet casings. The unrelenting smell of blood and gunpowder made me feel nauseated. What is happening to me? 

“Dinlas,” the detective croaked. “I need you…Please.” 

I shook my head to shake off any and all unwanted feelings. I looked her in the eyes and cracked a smile across my face to suggest that everything would be fine. The knot in my stomach loosened as I placed my hands over her wounds. Every ounce of me and my focus went into healing her. 

The palms of my hands grew warmer, pulsing and vibrating wildly as I felt the holes close. She passed out from what I assumed to be extreme blood loss, and she collapsed onto the floor. My hands worked quickly, moving from wound to wound, mending all that had been wrong on her body. The poor detective was shot just under a dozen times and surely would have died if I weren’t there to heal her. 

When I finished, her breathing stabilized, and she appeared to be asleep. I scooped her up in my arms, carefully carrying her from the room into the open area that used to be the police station. I stepped over Jealousy and Hatred, moving to a leather couch that was undisturbed by blood, glass, or bullet casings. I gently laid her down before I stood and faced my minions. 

“Hatred needs you,” Jealousy growled. “Will you heal her like you did that pathetic mortal?” 

“She doesn’t need healing,” I replied. “She needs hate. So, continue what you’re doing, and she will be fine.” 

“She will heal quicker with your hatred,” he pointed out. 

“I have nothing to hate,” I said. “Everything has been done, and all wrongs have been reversed.” 

“Listen to you,” he snapped. “All wrongs have been reversed? What does that mean? What is wrong with you? And what is that disgusting feeling I feel permeating your body?” 

“I don’t know, and for the first time in my existence, I don’t care,” I said. “What I feel now, how I feel, is something unfamiliar, but it’s something I’ve needed my whole life. I’ve always been looking over the fence at everyone and everything, yearning or desiring something more. Now I think I’ve actually found it…with her.” 

“Forget her!” Jealousy yelled, allowing Hatred to slump onto the floor. He made sure her head didn’t fall onto the hard surface. He stood and squared his shoulders to face me. “We need to go back to where we belong. I enjoyed what we were doing before her and before her.” He pointed at both Hatred and the detective. 

“Leave,” I replied. “I don’t need either of you anymore. What I feel coursing through my body has opened my eyes to what was holding me back. It was the pair of you. I don’t have a desire to feel hate, rage, or jealousy. I have the only thing I’ve ever desired.” 

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snapped. 

I grinned at him. The truth was, I admired him for standing up to me the way he did. He had always been in the shadows, following me around, while Hatred stood at the forefront and alongside me. She had been the one to speak her mind, remain strong in her convictions, and challenge me at every turn. I hated her for that, but I also admired her. I was glad to see him stand so strong in my presence. Maybe it was time to separate and set out on my own. 

Glass popped and hissed from across the room, interrupting our argument. I glanced over at the elevator, where we came up, to find the officer crawling out. Blood oozed and poured from his open mouth as he struggled to pull his body along the floor. 

“Are you going to fix him, too?” Jealousy groaned. 

I remember I promised the officer I would, but I didn’t really intend to keep my word. The detective was my first and only priority. All I cared about was getting to her and ensuring her safety. But in light of my current situation, arguing with my most loyal minion, I decided to do it in spite of him. 

“Why not?” I answered, smiling at his glaring face. 

I strolled to the cop, but it was too late. The man had collapsed just outside of the elevator. His feet remained over the threshold of the sliding doors. I snorted, staring down at his back. It didn’t really matter to me, and I would have kept my word, which was all that mattered now. 

“Pity,” Jealousy scoffed sarcastically. “What a shame. You couldn’t save another one of your pets. That’s what they are, aren’t they?”

“Why are you still here, and why are you still talking?” I asked, scowling at him. “If you don’t want to be here with me and you two are content with being free from this journey, then go. I won’t stand in your way. To be honest, it will be nice not having to hear your voices bickering in my head all the time.”

“Who are you talking to?” the detective asked, sitting up on the couch with an expression of concern painted across her face.

Dinlas (Justin Brimhall)
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