The Death of Reason

Victor silently examined the door, his body motionless except for the darting of his gray eyes and a slight twitching of his left index finger.

What am I doing here, he silently thought to himself. I should go home and go to bed. I should go down the street to the tiny diner that still serves cups of coffee for fifty cents. I should go anywhere but here.

Despite the urgings in his mind, Victor's legs did not move. His eyes finally settled on the old, brass doorknob. His finger continued to twitch violently.

This is bad. Nothing good can come of this. This is the stupidest thing you've ever done. Move! Stop standing there! Move! Get out of here!

Nothing Victor said to himself did any good. His willpower was eroding. His conscience was slowly being beaten down by his id. What was left of his reason, bloody and bruised, was using its last reserves to try and keep Victor from opening the door, but it was a losing battle. His conscience knew it. His id knew it. Victor knew it.

Why now? Why, when everything was finally starting to come together? Everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever dreamed of possessing, I have. There's nothing else that I want, nothing else that I need. If I turn around right now, if I go anywhere else, I'll be happy. I'll live happily for the rest of my life. This is idiotic! This is insane! There is nothing else that I need to make myself feel complete. Nothing!

Nothing.

Except this.

The words had barely finished forming in his mind when Victor felt it. The final blow. The id finally bringing the dagger down upon his conscience. He heard a tiny scream in the back of his being, then nothing. All of his worrying, all of the nervousness was gone. The id stood victorious, grinning and slowly cleaning the blood off the blade. His last chance at saving himself from himself was finally dead.

With the death of his conscience, Victor Mordant was free. Free to pursue his darkest impulses. Free to build himself into anything he wanted to be. Free to tear himself down. Free to destroy everything that he had ever held close to his heart.

A dark, foreboding, reptilian silence filled the air. The twitching in his finger ceased. His eyes glowed brightly with a newfound sense of confidence.

There was no turning back. The minute he went through the doorway, his life would be forever changed.

Victor lifted his left hand and gripped the doorknob. He let it sit for a minute, basking in the cool, metallic sensation that coursed through his hand. Slowly, methodically, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Victor entered the house.