Insanity and Knowledge

Fandom: 9
Characters: Scientist and 6
Word Count: 1,026
Warnings: None

I can take this chaos no longer! The clatter of machinery and the sounds of pathetic, pleading, starving, dying humans have driven me mad! Several times I have begun to throw myself from my roof, but in the end, the need to make amends for the sin I have thrust upon this world has won out over my own misery. In order to maintain my sanity, I have attempted to create a new savior, but he has come out quite odd in comparison to his predecessors. The mechanics of his brain are somewhat jumbled, for I hadn't the mind to properly format them as I did the others. The acceptance of a soul into these cogs is certain, of course, but the effects it will have on such a different circuitry is questionable at best. He will be unstable, I think, turning him over and over in my hand as his black stripes roll into a hypnotizing pattern, yes, but he will know. He will know. I stand suddenly, knocking over a table filled with dusty books I have not touched in years. He will most certainly know! This one will be needed, by god! I will make this one worthy, useful, essential. I will not let this one be a failure. As I stand before my device once more, I concentrate on the most important thing my children must know for the protection of life. He will not forget this important component even if all else within him fails. This image will remain firmly imbedded in his mind, and easily retrieved by 3 and 4 if necessary. This one will not be a failure. He. Will. KNOW! I command it with my entire being as the device rips away another part of my soul, throwing flashing blue lights across the wall once more. Out of the corner of my eye I see my shadow and wonder, briefly, how much further it will be able to stretch this way. When will it shatter against that agonizing backdrop – that tattered, hideous wallpaper that is my self-inflicted prison – or will it even make it through this time? Can I last much longer?

6 frantically sketched the same symbols he had been trying to recall for as long as he could remember across a series of papers he had laid out before him this morning. He had hundreds of sketches by now, he was sure, but this image would not leave his mind. It was maddening! What did it do? What was it for? How could he find it? If he could only find it, he was sure that he could get it out of his mind for good. He knew 2 was interested in the drawings, and he depended on him to find the subject of his insane art for a long time, but the news of his passing floated down to him from above as 8 escorted 5 and the newcomer known as 9 to 1's throne room. Sad, the loss of 2, sad. So sad, so sad, so sad. 5 was not brave enough to help him find the symbols in his mind. No, no, no. 5 was too frightened of 1. 7 was gone. She could not help him either. 3 and 4, 4 and 3, the twins were gone, gone, gone. Their keen eyes were lost to him. Lost. Lost. Lost. His mind would forever be plagued with the images of these symbols, and only 1 would remain to ridicule him in the end.

He stopped his sketching momentarily to clutch at his head, inky fingers drawing lines down his scalp as he gripped it tightly. Oh, the ridicule, the humiliation, the pain, pain, pain. He would beat the images out of his mind if he thought that would work, but no. 6 was crazy, not stupid. He knew how his mind worked, and he knew what went on around this place, as much as 1 would like to think otherwise. It was only…this crippling mental block kept him in place! The same, same place for always, always, always. It was simply maddening, but he knew. For the love of all that was good in this world, he knew! But, what did he know? That was the question. What was it he knew so deeply in the very pit of his being?

It was important, so very important. So important. He scratched his fingers across the paper he had just sketched, creating an x on what he assumed to be an incorrect drawing of the symbols in his mind. This symbol would drive him to insanity, if it hadn't already done the job so well. He would admit there was a certain degree of madness to his actions and sometimes his thought patterns, but there yet remained an intelligence that only 2 found difficult to deny. There was still logic, though no one else would acknowledge it. He was still a living, sentient being, wasn't he? Wasn't he, wasn't he, wasn't he? These thoughts did not make him different in the end, and yet he was treated as such. All because of these images in his mind!

Maddening! He swiped the papers before him aside and began again on the wood beneath him. He must still be drawing it wrong! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. If he drew it right, it would be as good as having it there, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it? Wouldn't it? His inky fingers scratched across the splintered boards, creating new grooves and cracks. It would fix him, fix him, it had to fix him. If he only kept trying, it would work someday. He did not look up, but he knew the others had long since passed. No one remained to watch his frantic search for a truth only he knew. He was truly alone with his madness now that 2 had gone. Alone, alone, alone, alone. Would no one else save him from himself? Would no one else try? His fingers attacked the wooden surface with a ferocity he had never shown before, and he felt he would not stop this time. Not this time, no, no, no.