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[doctorize]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, DOCTORIZE FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** DOCTORIZE has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN01. <USER> LISTEN01 AUDIO MESSAGE PLAYING... <doctorize> This is the line for Dr. Daniel Dickens. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so here. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!

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oh boy are you ready for AoD spoilers (tw: suicide, eye trauma, other acts of violence, etc.) 1/2

[doctorize]

[If Aunamee is seeing them from most recent to earliest, then the one he's going to first come in contact with are the events that led up to Danny's death, actually.

Rachel, turning on him. Choosing Zack over Danny despite all of the things he had offered and done for her because of some stupid promise she had made with that killer. She shoots him in the gut, watches impassively as his body is kicked a few times by Zack to make sure he stays down, and then turns and walks away.

Except, Danny does get back up. He manages to somehow stumble and crawl out of the room, make it up the stairs to the exit once he's started a fire to set the building ablaze to take everyone left with him. And yet, somehow, from where he's dropped down onto the floor behind a wall here, he sees that Rachel and Zack have somehow made it past the flames and are approaching the exit. There's no choice left... he has to keep going, he hasn't taken care of them yet. Danny raises a gun, points it at Rachel's back...

It all spirals quickly out of control from there.

It's a long, terrible story that led up to such events, but the further Aunamee dives in those memories, there are certainly glimpses of the things that could lead up to such an ending: Cathy and Eddie, his only other associates dead because of--Rachel, appearing on his floor with no memory of him, Zack attacking him just as Danny had started to make her remember him, the arguments and pleading with the Reverend to not do this, don't make Rachel a sacrifice, she's my last chance, don't take this away from me--

The monotony. The dull, soul-crushing emptiness, like a void opening wide and somehow spilling out to consume his entire being--no matter how many eyes he tears out and examines, over and over and over and over again, it's not enough. They don't keep that beautiful gleam of despair forever, they don't look like hers anymore--

"Your eyes are empty. There's nothing there. You're not satisfied, and you're looking for something to fill that hole--but that void is never going to go away. You're gonna walk around with those empty eyes forever."

A man--a convict, from the clothing, leans in far too close to Danny here, disgusting, I hate this man, I hate his eyes--grins, showing yellowing teeth.

"You already know, don't you? Someone with an inferiority complex like you can't be fulfilled by this warped, malicious world. All you can do is pretend you're fine, while on the inside, you're suffering 'cause of that bottomless void!

So I'm going to teach you a lesson, okay?"

He strikes Danny hard across the head, hard enough to draw blood and send him to the floor as he reaches out with filthy fingers to grab him by the back of his hair and force his attention back on the other man--"Your mere existence isn't wanted by anyone in this world."--and Danny just... sags, tired, he's not even being told something he doesn't already know. I've known that since the day I was born, since the day my mother--

"Oh, Danny, what happened! How did you get hurt? Don't tell me the other kids in the neighborhood did this again..."

A woman with long blond hair, hands gripping the shoulders of a much younger Danny, covered in bruises and dirt as he looks away and at the floor rather than at her. He brings his hand up to the eye-patch on his face, pulls it down and exposes the void burrowing into the right side of his face as he meekly asks about his missing eye, winces as the grip on his shoulders tighten...

His father, neighbors, other children--they argue, they whisper, they laugh, they question his mere existence and suggest he shouldn't have been born right in front of his own mother--he simply stays quiet, lets them say whatever they want as talking only makes them say worse--until his mother suddenly starts crying and screaming, breaking dishes, falling apart until she refuses to eat, refuses to even look at him most days. It's just the two of them, alone in that house now that Father has gotten sick of them and left, and he thinks This is all my fault. It's because of this eye. If only I had both of my eyes, but--it's okay, because Mother, her eyes are so much more beautiful than mine, so it's okay, I can keep going, as long as she's here, I can look at them forever--"

He pushes the door open, sees the tipped over step-ladder, and slowly looks up, his eyes meeting with hers; empty, lifeless, as if somehow she's staring right at him despite the noose around her neck and the sway of her feet that no longer touch the floor--]