A steady breeze drags cool air across my huddled form, and I breathe in deeply, checking the wind for any sign that I'm not alone. There's nothing. Not even the smell of wildlife. Despite that small comfort, my back remains defensively pressed against the side of the house, my knees pulled against my chest. Staring down at the leaf covered driveway, I habitually twist a wrinkled tee shirt between my hands. The barest scent clings to the fabric. Just enough to clench at my heart when I bring the shirt to my face, pressing it gently to my cheek. I look to the spot where Tommy's Lincoln is usually parked. The panic that normally comes when he's not home is faint tonight, but I keep the link between our minds open and clear. Just in case.
The night sky is blocked out by the copse of trees and splintered roof. I glance up, seeing nothing but spider webs and wood. It's safer to stay on the porch, out of sight. Just in case.
My broken down Jetta sits in the same spot it's been for the past decade. The memory of Alex's fruitless labor to get it up and running for me is so strong that I can almost see him bent over the engine. I call out his name before I can help myself, the two syllables hanging in the air, unanswered. Sighing, I stretch my legs out in front of me, spreading the tee shirt across my lap. Reaching into the top of my boot, I pull out an iPod. A new model, sleeker and more modern than my own. My thumb grazes the screen, but I can bring myself to turn the device on. I want so badly to hear his voice again, even if only through the ramblings he recorded. But it won't be enough. I need to see Alex. Need to touch him. Need to talk to him.
My lip trembles and I make a mental note of how long I managed to go without crying tonight. I'd place it at at least an hour. Shame and sorrow run neck and neck in the battle of my emotions. I absently wipe a tear off of the iPod, smearing a streak of red across the screen. Holding the device with a gentle touch bordering on reverence, my voice is quiet as I speak down into my lap.
"I miss you, Alex. It's almost been a month..."
Trailing off, I glance around, paranoid. Satisfied that no one is looking or listening, I continue talking with no audience.
"It hasn't gotten any easier. Sailix said it will...one day. I don't think so. How can it? Every night it feels like my chest is being torn open. Every night when I realize you're never coming back..."
My right hand creeps up to claw lightly at my chest, I push the appendage back into my lap with my left hand, holding it still.
"It's so hard to keep trying. To keep living. If it wasn't for...I don't think I could do it. I don't want to live, but I don't want to die. I just don't want to be."
I wipe more tears from the iPod screen, using my fingers to make a barrier to further protect it.
"I know you'd want me to try. That's the only reason I am. I'm not living for me, anymore. I'm living for you. And Tommy. And Sailix. And Pyotr. And MacAllister." I give a watery chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm doing such a shitty job of it. I know I should try harder. I need to. I need to take care of everyone. I can't...I can't lose. I can't lose anyone else. I won't."
Raising my head, I look around the woods again. Part of me expects to see Alex approaching, perhaps summoned by my very words. Or maybe Tybalt, with some harsh but true brotherly advice. Hell, I'd even take Mongrel with his new no nonsense attitude. I remain alone.
"It's not like...it's not like I expected a fairy tale ending. I knew there wouldn't be white picket fences and grandchildren. I just thought I'd have more time. Wished for it, I guess." Shaking my head, I ramble on. "Stupid of me. I never deserved you. So, I sure as hell didn't deserve to keep you."
I know I should get up. Put my stuff away and take care of myself. Stop talking to ghosts and memories. I feel wasted. Used up. Like the small trip from the bedroom to the porch and my subsequent speech to no one exhausted every reservoir of strength I have.
"Gosh, I miss you Alex. I wish I..."
I hear a car approaching. I pull my knees back to my chest, claws growing in brief terror. A second passes and I recognize the sound of the Lincoln's engine. Sheathing my claws, I stow away the iPod and use the shirt to clear my face of tears. I stand, hanging the shirt over the railing and making an attempt at a welcoming smile as headlights illuminate the front yard. The muscles in my face begin to ache before Tommy is even out of the car. Regardless, I try to look calm and sane. Something to make him proud. I try to look...better.
Better. Heh.
https://youtu.be/GVP5gJBmRtA
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Sunday, September 25, 2016
If I could end this waking dream, escape through a scream and feel I'd won some way.
For the first time in over a week, I venture from the confines of my bedroom. My bare feet make little noise in the hallway as I creep down the stairs, following the sound of light orchestral music. Tommy is in the den, humming along with the stereo. His expression is one of pleased surprise as he sets eyes on me. He beckons me to him with open arms. "It's good to see you on your feet, little one." I glance nervously towards the shuttered windows, before crossing the room to embrace him. He kisses the top of my head and asks if I'm hungry. I say no, only slightly lying to him. If he disbelieves my reply, he doesn't let on to it as he releases me and moves into the kitchen.
I watch him for a moment, before turning my attention towards the door. Last time I walked through it, I was dying. Ignoring the shudder that passes through my body, I swing the front door open and step out onto the porch. The night is quiet, and so are the surrounding woods. The air is significantly cooler than even a week ago. Tentatively, I settle onto the splintered top step and stare up at the sky, my head feeling fractionally clearer. My heart still aches for Alex, and even as I think his name my hand creeps to my chest, picking lightly. I force my hands to my sides, pressing them flat on the step. No amount of pain, no suffering or wallowing will bring him back. Ignoring the tinge of red in my vision and the tremble in my lips, I think to my family, likely worrying themselves sick without word from me. Making up my mind to go over to the fort, I pause as I'm turning to call through the door to Tommy.
I hear a dull buzzing sound, and stiffen in panic, my mouth snapping shut like a trap. Turning my head to the side, I pray it was just my overactive imagination. The buzzing continues, and my fear grows at the faint sound of engines approaching. I smell them. I'd never forget their scent. It still seems to cling to long since healed wounds. My throat doesn't seem to work as I attempt to call out to Tommy, to warn him, to tell him to run. I reach my thoughts to his, sending a stream of pure terror as I see the headlights from the convoy bouncing between the trees. Tommy rushes out onto the porch. "Madelyn, what is it? What's the matter?"
With a shaking hand, I point towards the path, at the oncoming vehicles. "It's the hunters. Tommy...they've come back for me. You have to run..." I stand and push at his chest. "You have to run! They'll kill you...like Alex...Tommy, please!"
He stands his ground, his hands gesturing in the air. "I won't leave your side, little one." He begins chanting in Italian, and I shudder as several wraiths manifest in the yard. Tommy stands stalwart as the drone buzzes high about the roof and the cars approach.
Just by my heightened senses, I can tell there are many more of them than last time. My instincts tell me to flee with Tommy at my side, but instead I square my shoulders, grow my claws, and face the enemy with courage I don't feel. The cars pull into plain sight, and from my spot on the porch I hear a gruff voice from behind the dark windows of an SUV. "Kill the man. Capture the monster."
For a moment, all is silent and still. Then the doors begin to open and the bullets begin to fly. I leap in front of Tommy, taking a burning round of ammo in my shoulder. He shouts something at his wraiths, and they converge on the nearest group of hunters. Over the sound of screaming, I hear a shouted prayer. I clench my jaw, resisting an urge to run. The wraiths seem to shrink away from the praying individual, fleeing in separate directions. Tommy growls under his breath, and gestures towards the man. His body drops unconscious. More bullets fly out, and I let out an cry of rage as Tommy is hit. He pulls out his own gun, as I run full force off the porch, leaping onto one of the men and knocking the shotgun from his hands. My claws rip and tear, and I barely notice the several shots that hit their mark as the man's cohorts attempt to defend him. I hear Tommy's gun going off from his spot on the porch, and hear the thump as a body hits the dirt.
More blood is shed, and the offensive numbers don't seem to be thinning. Feeling my strength waning, I rip my teeth from a throat and push my thoughts to Tommy, imploring once more that he save himself. There's no response, and I turn towards the porch, my movement freezing. Tommy lay prone and torpid, two of the hunters training their rifles on him and watching me silently. "No!" I release the corpse in my grasp, panic overcoming me. As if by unspoken command, the men that are still standing step back, and I hear the gruff voice from inside one of the cars again.
"Stop fighting us, and we will not kill him. Let us take you, and the priest can live."
I keep my eyes on Tommy's unresponsive face, wanting his guidance and receiving none. I ache, both body and mind. I know that fighting further will just end up with the both of us as piles of ash. As if confirming my fears, one of the hunters cocks his gun. "Tick tock, vampire." Ignoring the hateful tear that traces down my cheek, I lower my hands, my claws retracting back into my fingertips. Several of the men surround me, guns at the ready. Two take my arms and without a moment's hesitation, a wooden stake is jammed into my chest. I'm frozen, subdued, and unable to do anything but scream inside my own head as the hunters on the porch fire at Tommy, reducing his body to dust. There's no fight or struggle as they throw me into the back of one of the SUVs. Facedown, I see nothing but the immaculately clean floor mats as the car begins moving. Unable to face the horror I've seen, and the horror that likely awaits me, I force myself into a defensive unconsciousness.
When I awaken, my expectations of a dark bedroom and Tommy's comfort are quickly quashed. The room reeks of antiseptic and sterility, the lights are painfully bright. I'm no longer staked or paralyzed, but I feel weak and low on blood. Moving gingerly, I touch the wall that my body is propped up against. It's solid, impossibly so. I get a vision of the rooms construction, and know that it was built to be inescapable, even by supernatural means. Through the chemical stink, I catch the scent of other Kindred. The north wall has a translucent stretch of thick glass. I strike my fist against it, and am greeting by nothing but pain. Through the glass, I see a corridor with similar rooms. In the one directly across from mine is a vampire with dusty, almost gray skin. Hairless and wide eyed, his thin lips pull back from his teeth in a fixed grimace. He meets my gaze with little interest, staring up at the wall of his own prison. In a cell next to the gray skinned man, a muscular, red haired woman lay face down on the tile. Her face is obscured, but I can see thick black claws and light scaling on one of her splayed out hands.
I back away from the glass with a whimper, settling into one of the room's corners and curling my knees to my chest. The feel of terror and desperation pull at me, and I fight to keep myself from floundering into a fugue. For the first time in a week, I reach out to Sailix's mind. Nothing. No denial. No response. It's just dead air. Whimpering, I clench my arms tight around my knees and try to reach Pyotr. Again, there's nothing. I face similar failure when I try to reach MacAllister, Troy...even Noah. It's as if my mind has been blocked off from any and all familiar links. I'm alone. Pressing my face down and rocking slightly, I wait, whispering to myself. "Oh god, please someone help me.." I wait. Either for death, for release, or for the end of another nightmare.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5dVy4ikcbA
I watch him for a moment, before turning my attention towards the door. Last time I walked through it, I was dying. Ignoring the shudder that passes through my body, I swing the front door open and step out onto the porch. The night is quiet, and so are the surrounding woods. The air is significantly cooler than even a week ago. Tentatively, I settle onto the splintered top step and stare up at the sky, my head feeling fractionally clearer. My heart still aches for Alex, and even as I think his name my hand creeps to my chest, picking lightly. I force my hands to my sides, pressing them flat on the step. No amount of pain, no suffering or wallowing will bring him back. Ignoring the tinge of red in my vision and the tremble in my lips, I think to my family, likely worrying themselves sick without word from me. Making up my mind to go over to the fort, I pause as I'm turning to call through the door to Tommy.
I hear a dull buzzing sound, and stiffen in panic, my mouth snapping shut like a trap. Turning my head to the side, I pray it was just my overactive imagination. The buzzing continues, and my fear grows at the faint sound of engines approaching. I smell them. I'd never forget their scent. It still seems to cling to long since healed wounds. My throat doesn't seem to work as I attempt to call out to Tommy, to warn him, to tell him to run. I reach my thoughts to his, sending a stream of pure terror as I see the headlights from the convoy bouncing between the trees. Tommy rushes out onto the porch. "Madelyn, what is it? What's the matter?"
With a shaking hand, I point towards the path, at the oncoming vehicles. "It's the hunters. Tommy...they've come back for me. You have to run..." I stand and push at his chest. "You have to run! They'll kill you...like Alex...Tommy, please!"
He stands his ground, his hands gesturing in the air. "I won't leave your side, little one." He begins chanting in Italian, and I shudder as several wraiths manifest in the yard. Tommy stands stalwart as the drone buzzes high about the roof and the cars approach.
Just by my heightened senses, I can tell there are many more of them than last time. My instincts tell me to flee with Tommy at my side, but instead I square my shoulders, grow my claws, and face the enemy with courage I don't feel. The cars pull into plain sight, and from my spot on the porch I hear a gruff voice from behind the dark windows of an SUV. "Kill the man. Capture the monster."
For a moment, all is silent and still. Then the doors begin to open and the bullets begin to fly. I leap in front of Tommy, taking a burning round of ammo in my shoulder. He shouts something at his wraiths, and they converge on the nearest group of hunters. Over the sound of screaming, I hear a shouted prayer. I clench my jaw, resisting an urge to run. The wraiths seem to shrink away from the praying individual, fleeing in separate directions. Tommy growls under his breath, and gestures towards the man. His body drops unconscious. More bullets fly out, and I let out an cry of rage as Tommy is hit. He pulls out his own gun, as I run full force off the porch, leaping onto one of the men and knocking the shotgun from his hands. My claws rip and tear, and I barely notice the several shots that hit their mark as the man's cohorts attempt to defend him. I hear Tommy's gun going off from his spot on the porch, and hear the thump as a body hits the dirt.
More blood is shed, and the offensive numbers don't seem to be thinning. Feeling my strength waning, I rip my teeth from a throat and push my thoughts to Tommy, imploring once more that he save himself. There's no response, and I turn towards the porch, my movement freezing. Tommy lay prone and torpid, two of the hunters training their rifles on him and watching me silently. "No!" I release the corpse in my grasp, panic overcoming me. As if by unspoken command, the men that are still standing step back, and I hear the gruff voice from inside one of the cars again.
"Stop fighting us, and we will not kill him. Let us take you, and the priest can live."
I keep my eyes on Tommy's unresponsive face, wanting his guidance and receiving none. I ache, both body and mind. I know that fighting further will just end up with the both of us as piles of ash. As if confirming my fears, one of the hunters cocks his gun. "Tick tock, vampire." Ignoring the hateful tear that traces down my cheek, I lower my hands, my claws retracting back into my fingertips. Several of the men surround me, guns at the ready. Two take my arms and without a moment's hesitation, a wooden stake is jammed into my chest. I'm frozen, subdued, and unable to do anything but scream inside my own head as the hunters on the porch fire at Tommy, reducing his body to dust. There's no fight or struggle as they throw me into the back of one of the SUVs. Facedown, I see nothing but the immaculately clean floor mats as the car begins moving. Unable to face the horror I've seen, and the horror that likely awaits me, I force myself into a defensive unconsciousness.
When I awaken, my expectations of a dark bedroom and Tommy's comfort are quickly quashed. The room reeks of antiseptic and sterility, the lights are painfully bright. I'm no longer staked or paralyzed, but I feel weak and low on blood. Moving gingerly, I touch the wall that my body is propped up against. It's solid, impossibly so. I get a vision of the rooms construction, and know that it was built to be inescapable, even by supernatural means. Through the chemical stink, I catch the scent of other Kindred. The north wall has a translucent stretch of thick glass. I strike my fist against it, and am greeting by nothing but pain. Through the glass, I see a corridor with similar rooms. In the one directly across from mine is a vampire with dusty, almost gray skin. Hairless and wide eyed, his thin lips pull back from his teeth in a fixed grimace. He meets my gaze with little interest, staring up at the wall of his own prison. In a cell next to the gray skinned man, a muscular, red haired woman lay face down on the tile. Her face is obscured, but I can see thick black claws and light scaling on one of her splayed out hands.
I back away from the glass with a whimper, settling into one of the room's corners and curling my knees to my chest. The feel of terror and desperation pull at me, and I fight to keep myself from floundering into a fugue. For the first time in a week, I reach out to Sailix's mind. Nothing. No denial. No response. It's just dead air. Whimpering, I clench my arms tight around my knees and try to reach Pyotr. Again, there's nothing. I face similar failure when I try to reach MacAllister, Troy...even Noah. It's as if my mind has been blocked off from any and all familiar links. I'm alone. Pressing my face down and rocking slightly, I wait, whispering to myself. "Oh god, please someone help me.." I wait. Either for death, for release, or for the end of another nightmare.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5dVy4ikcbA
Friday, September 23, 2016
I can't keep going I feel my mind slowing, my heart's torn apart.
The bed springs creak as someone sits on the side of the mattress. I turn, roughly grabbing the hand that reaches for my shoulder. Warm skin and a familiar scent loosens my grip, and I gently intertwine my fingers with those of the reaching hand. "Ugh. Sorry. I was dreaming and...well, y'know how I am."
Alex smiles down at me, pulling our clasped hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. "No, it's my fault. I just wanted to check on you."
I sit up slightly, stretching, testing my muscles for soreness. "I think I'm all healed up, finally. Everything feels normal." Pulling down the neckline of my shirt, I glance down at my chest. The skin is smooth, unmarred by wounds or holes.
Alex peers down my shirt, curiously. "Can I see?"
I move the fabric down further, before catching his smirk. "Yeah, see it's all...hey!" I push him away, scowling and fixing my neckline. "...perv." Alex snickers, and I pull him onto the bed with me, resting my head against his shoulder. "Have ya talked to Troy and them yet?"
Alex runs a hand through his hair, looking bothered. "Not yet. I got rid of the chip, but until I can clear everything up, I think it's better to lay low. Keep the Barony out of it."
I nod, his worry rubbing off on me. "This cut too close, Alex. Way too fucking close. You barely got away, and if it hadn't been for you and Tommy, I'd be..."
He kisses me, cutting off my words. "Don't even think like that. I'd never let anything happen to you. We're safe here." He sighs a little. "I still think Tommy is a fucking bastard, but...he really put his neck on the line for you. For us." His words bring me a sense of peace, and I snuggle closer to Alex with a pleased whimper, basking in his affection.
"I was so worried..." I confess, breaking the silence. "I thought I'd lost you, and...I don't know what I would have done. Things went badly enough as it is, but knowing you were here...that you ARE here, helping me through it." Pausing, I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I just...I love you Alex. You know that, right?"
There's no immediate reply. My brow furrows, and I turn towards his side of the bed. My hand touches nothing but a bare expanse of mattress. "Alex?" Sitting up, I push the comforter aside. Nothing. Looking around the room, it's empty, and I begin to panic. "Alex! Where did you go? Alex!"
To my relief, the door swings open. My vision blurs slightly, not recognizing the dark haired figure in the hallway. I blink, and after a moment things make sense again. Alex approaches me, and takes me in his arms. Smiling, I rise on my toes to kiss him. "Sorry I freaked out. That shit on Saturday really has me on edge, heh." He grasps my hips and leads me over to a chair, pushing me gently into a sitting position. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night?" He retrieves a brush and begins pulling it carefully through my hair. My eyes close, and I revel in the blissful feeling of his hands smoothing and brushing. "Mm...we could play Sonic again. I know you're probably tired of it, but it's the only game I can actually beat you in." I fall silent as Alex's hands separate my hair into strands and begin braiding it down my back, tying a small bow at the bottom of the braid.
"Thank you for taking care of me..." I turn in the chair, opening my eyes and looking up. Tommy stares down at me, an expression of benevolence on his face. Confused, my hand creeps up, picking at the fabric of my shirt. "..Tommy?" A sharp sting of pain in my chest, as my nails grow to claws, working into the skin above my heart. "What is..." my words trail off, as I drop my gaze from Tommy's and turn back around in the chair. I stare at a spot on the wall until my eyes grow tired, barely noticing when Tommy picks me up and puts me back into the bed to sleep again.
https://youtu.be/N7akVgW52bQ
Alex smiles down at me, pulling our clasped hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. "No, it's my fault. I just wanted to check on you."
I sit up slightly, stretching, testing my muscles for soreness. "I think I'm all healed up, finally. Everything feels normal." Pulling down the neckline of my shirt, I glance down at my chest. The skin is smooth, unmarred by wounds or holes.
Alex peers down my shirt, curiously. "Can I see?"
I move the fabric down further, before catching his smirk. "Yeah, see it's all...hey!" I push him away, scowling and fixing my neckline. "...perv." Alex snickers, and I pull him onto the bed with me, resting my head against his shoulder. "Have ya talked to Troy and them yet?"
Alex runs a hand through his hair, looking bothered. "Not yet. I got rid of the chip, but until I can clear everything up, I think it's better to lay low. Keep the Barony out of it."
I nod, his worry rubbing off on me. "This cut too close, Alex. Way too fucking close. You barely got away, and if it hadn't been for you and Tommy, I'd be..."
He kisses me, cutting off my words. "Don't even think like that. I'd never let anything happen to you. We're safe here." He sighs a little. "I still think Tommy is a fucking bastard, but...he really put his neck on the line for you. For us." His words bring me a sense of peace, and I snuggle closer to Alex with a pleased whimper, basking in his affection.
"I was so worried..." I confess, breaking the silence. "I thought I'd lost you, and...I don't know what I would have done. Things went badly enough as it is, but knowing you were here...that you ARE here, helping me through it." Pausing, I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I just...I love you Alex. You know that, right?"
There's no immediate reply. My brow furrows, and I turn towards his side of the bed. My hand touches nothing but a bare expanse of mattress. "Alex?" Sitting up, I push the comforter aside. Nothing. Looking around the room, it's empty, and I begin to panic. "Alex! Where did you go? Alex!"
To my relief, the door swings open. My vision blurs slightly, not recognizing the dark haired figure in the hallway. I blink, and after a moment things make sense again. Alex approaches me, and takes me in his arms. Smiling, I rise on my toes to kiss him. "Sorry I freaked out. That shit on Saturday really has me on edge, heh." He grasps my hips and leads me over to a chair, pushing me gently into a sitting position. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night?" He retrieves a brush and begins pulling it carefully through my hair. My eyes close, and I revel in the blissful feeling of his hands smoothing and brushing. "Mm...we could play Sonic again. I know you're probably tired of it, but it's the only game I can actually beat you in." I fall silent as Alex's hands separate my hair into strands and begin braiding it down my back, tying a small bow at the bottom of the braid.
"Thank you for taking care of me..." I turn in the chair, opening my eyes and looking up. Tommy stares down at me, an expression of benevolence on his face. Confused, my hand creeps up, picking at the fabric of my shirt. "..Tommy?" A sharp sting of pain in my chest, as my nails grow to claws, working into the skin above my heart. "What is..." my words trail off, as I drop my gaze from Tommy's and turn back around in the chair. I stare at a spot on the wall until my eyes grow tired, barely noticing when Tommy picks me up and puts me back into the bed to sleep again.
https://youtu.be/N7akVgW52bQ
Nothing ever grows and the sun doesn't shine all day. Tried to save myself but myself keeps slipping away.
A slight whimpering comes from in between the folds of the blood smeared towel. The sound matches similar whining coming from a rectangular, wooden box on the hay strewn ground. I continue rubbing the struggling lump under the towel, until the whimpering seems to grow stronger. Parting the fabric, I grin as a small sable face pokes out, eyes and ears still closed. "Oh my gosh Dad, they're perfect!" I briskly bend down to the whelping box, placing the last puppy against his brothers and sisters who are already nursing from Kerrie. She seems to be grinning herself, panting lightly as she nudges her muzzle against my hand. I pet her before joining dad at the sink, taking the bar of Lava soap and scrubbing my hands.
He nudges me with his shoulder, smiling. "You really seem to have a knack for this, Maddie. Couple years in school, we'll be callin' you Dr. DeWittier."
Cleaning under my nails, I blush slightly and roll my eyes. "Nah. Not me. I'll probably take some typing classes, something to help me along until my dream husband comes along."
Dad frowns at me, grabbing a towel and drying his hands. "Typing? Well, gosh. If I had known that, I wouldn't have been saving up for your veterinary schooling."
My mouth drops open, almost comically. The water runs into the sink as I gawp. "No way! You're pulling my leg. Mom already got me into that prep school, I thought..."
He shuts off the water and tosses his towel at me. "Your momma has a lot of notions about young women and their womanly duties." He puts an arm around my shoulders. "I know this is what you want to do, Maddie. I want you to do what makes -you- happy. Not your mom, not me, not that cute guy in your Home Ecs class."
"Daaaad," I grouse at his last comment. After a moment, I turn and hug him tightly. "This is really awesome. Truly." I stare over to Kerrie and her puppies. "I wish I could start classes now."
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. "How about you get through prom and graduation first, kiddo. Deal?"
"Dad? Daddy? The dogs are running from me. They don't like me anymore."
The wood floor is cold, even to my frigid skin. I reach up, touching my hair where my dad kissed. Crawling over to the nightstand, I open up the single drawer and pull out a folded up newspaper clipping. It's old and creased, and I try my hardest not to let my tears spill onto the paper. I touch the faded picture of my family, the only tangible memory I have of them.
"I should have protected you better. I'm sorry. It's my fault, daddy."
My mourning is interrupted by yet another invasive prodding at my thoughts. I let out a keening wail, dropping my picture and pressing at my temples. I quickly climb back onto the bed, cocooning myself in the covers, rocking slightly in attempt to comfort myself. I think of my family. The yearning for Sailix, Pyotr and MacAllister's company not outweighing my terror at putting them in danger. "I'm sorry guys. OK? I'm not gonna let them get you. You're safe. You're all safe from me."
I swear I can hear the buzzing sound of the drone, and I fight to keep from slipping into hysterics. The engine of the ATV seems to rev in my mind. I ball up the sheets, biting down on the fabric to keep from screaming. I hear the gunshots ring out. Over and over. Alex goes down, but I pick him up. Over and over. I shield his body with mine, taking the bullets meant for him. He falls to ash. Over and over and over. I see the hunters storming the fort during the day. My brother, my father and my friend, prone and helpless as they're executed in their own haven. No. Please. My claws shred at the mattress. I know it's not real. It's not. None of it. And yet...and yet...
I spit the fabric from my mouth and scream.
"TOMMY! Tommy, please!"
Another day. Another night.
https://youtu.be/Q8LEheSUTGE
He nudges me with his shoulder, smiling. "You really seem to have a knack for this, Maddie. Couple years in school, we'll be callin' you Dr. DeWittier."
Cleaning under my nails, I blush slightly and roll my eyes. "Nah. Not me. I'll probably take some typing classes, something to help me along until my dream husband comes along."
Dad frowns at me, grabbing a towel and drying his hands. "Typing? Well, gosh. If I had known that, I wouldn't have been saving up for your veterinary schooling."
My mouth drops open, almost comically. The water runs into the sink as I gawp. "No way! You're pulling my leg. Mom already got me into that prep school, I thought..."
He shuts off the water and tosses his towel at me. "Your momma has a lot of notions about young women and their womanly duties." He puts an arm around my shoulders. "I know this is what you want to do, Maddie. I want you to do what makes -you- happy. Not your mom, not me, not that cute guy in your Home Ecs class."
"Daaaad," I grouse at his last comment. After a moment, I turn and hug him tightly. "This is really awesome. Truly." I stare over to Kerrie and her puppies. "I wish I could start classes now."
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. "How about you get through prom and graduation first, kiddo. Deal?"
"Dad? Daddy? The dogs are running from me. They don't like me anymore."
The wood floor is cold, even to my frigid skin. I reach up, touching my hair where my dad kissed. Crawling over to the nightstand, I open up the single drawer and pull out a folded up newspaper clipping. It's old and creased, and I try my hardest not to let my tears spill onto the paper. I touch the faded picture of my family, the only tangible memory I have of them.
"I should have protected you better. I'm sorry. It's my fault, daddy."
My mourning is interrupted by yet another invasive prodding at my thoughts. I let out a keening wail, dropping my picture and pressing at my temples. I quickly climb back onto the bed, cocooning myself in the covers, rocking slightly in attempt to comfort myself. I think of my family. The yearning for Sailix, Pyotr and MacAllister's company not outweighing my terror at putting them in danger. "I'm sorry guys. OK? I'm not gonna let them get you. You're safe. You're all safe from me."
I swear I can hear the buzzing sound of the drone, and I fight to keep from slipping into hysterics. The engine of the ATV seems to rev in my mind. I ball up the sheets, biting down on the fabric to keep from screaming. I hear the gunshots ring out. Over and over. Alex goes down, but I pick him up. Over and over. I shield his body with mine, taking the bullets meant for him. He falls to ash. Over and over and over. I see the hunters storming the fort during the day. My brother, my father and my friend, prone and helpless as they're executed in their own haven. No. Please. My claws shred at the mattress. I know it's not real. It's not. None of it. And yet...and yet...
I spit the fabric from my mouth and scream.
"TOMMY! Tommy, please!"
Another day. Another night.
https://youtu.be/Q8LEheSUTGE
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
The news that truly shocks is the empty, empty page, while the final rattle rocks its empty, empty cage.
"If something happened to you..."
"I couldn't survive that."
I jolt awake, a moan escaping my lips. It's dark and I'm alone, my chest still throbbing dully from the healing wounds. Clenching the covers closer to my body, I ignore the pain and the hunger gnawing at my gut and attempt to fall back into unconsciousness. There's a sharp jab in my head, at my thoughts. The feeling of someone trying to reach me. Having barely enough energy to fight off the feeling, I turn my face into the pillow, crying out as I paw at my skull like a bee-stung dog. "Get out, please. Leave me alone." My words are quiet and muffled. I turn my ear to the door, hoping Tommy didn't hear me stirring from down the stairs. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel around on the mattress. There's nothing but rumpled sheets and a comforter. Growing panicked, I resist the urge to call out for help. I reach carefully over the side of the bed, hesitant, as if something from underneath could grab at my searching hand. My fingers scrabble at the wooden floor until they touch soft fabric. I sigh in relief as I bring the shirt up onto the bed with me, rubbing it against my cheek and breathing in the faint scent from the cloth. Smiling slightly, I turn to face the wall and squeeze my eyes shut against the flow of tears.
"You know, the more I love you, the more I grow terrified of when you actually leave me."
A phone rings in the dark room, unheard by the restless figure tangled in the sheets. Madelyn's hand stretches out to grasp at thin air, and she sobs aloud in her slumber. As the phone reaches its last ring, the bedroom door opens and a block of light illuminates the room. Thomas enters, his eyes showing concern in an otherwise stoic visage. He reaches down to carefully adjust the tangled blankets, disregarding the Malkavian's pained moan at his touch. Madelyn remains asleep, face pressed into a pillow already stained red with her tears. Thomas retrieves her cell phone from the nightstand, turning off the device and stowing it in his pocket. He leaves the room with one last pitying glance at his ward.
"I will always be here for you, for as long as I am in existence...please always know that, Madelyn. I will never willingly leave you forever. Death is the only thing that's going to keep me away.."
For the fourth, fifth, or possibly only the first time this week, I'm awoken by the sound of my own shrieks. I feel a slight sting as a bullet hole in my shoulder knits itself closed, and my mouth grows parched with hunger. Clawing at the sheets, I howl Alex's name, over and over. I hear the door open, and Tommy speaking in a calming tone, even over my own screams. I swipe at the priest, pushing him away as he draws near my bed. Tommy holds his stance, even as I fight him like a wild animal. With a long suffering expression, he pulls out a small pocket knife and slices a gash into his own flesh. Desperate and starved, I grab at his arm and latch onto the wound, drawing his sustenance into myself. As I drink, he seats himself on the mattress and I crawl into his lap. Refusing to look into his eyes, I sate my hunger, curling against him and staring blankly at the wall. Alex's face stares back at me, everywhere I look.
"I wish so badly that we could be normal...somewhat normal. Normal for us...like, if I thought we wouldn't burn the white pickets down, I'd love to live that stupid suburb life with you."
The lights twinkle in the trees and laughter trails over from one of the tables. Alex and I spin under the stars, and I can't help but giggle as he trips on the train of my dress. I kiss him lightly, "Just let me lead, k?" He scowls at me, "Ugh. Dancing, suits...can't we just spend the wedding reception playing Sonic?" My giggle turns into a full laugh, and his returned smile spreads warmth throughout my chest.
The lights twinkle in the trees and laughter trails over from one of the tables. Alex and I spin under the stars, and I can't help but giggle as he trips on the train of my dress. I kiss him lightly, "Just let me lead, k?" He scowls at me, "Ugh. Dancing, suits...can't we just spend the wedding reception playing Sonic?" My giggle turns into a full laugh, and his returned smile spreads warmth throughout my chest.
Another night, and my chest is on fire, even after Tommy pulls my hand away. My claws are dripping with gore, the color matching the furrows in my flesh. He alerts me that it's time for another bath, ignoring my steady weeping and half-hearted struggles as he lifts me into his arms. He takes me to the bathroom, setting me on the toilet as he fills the tub, just like the night he called me home. Removing my dirty and torn clothing, Tommy places me in the water, retrieving a washcloth and cleaning me as I cry. The routine brings me little comfort. My fingers creep back up to my chest, scratching at the flesh, attempting to reach the root of my pain. He swats my hand away, almost absently, and I stare up him with begging eyes.
"Tommy. You can bring him back, right? Like you did with me? You can bring Alex back like you brought me back...."
Pressing my hands against my temples, I don't hear his answer, the agony from speaking of Alex's demise aloud forcing my thoughts far away, to a quieter place.
https://youtu.be/gYJwYjanCRQ
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Death is no dream, for in death I'm caressing you.
Boots slamming into the dirt, my knees buckle slightly as I leap from the tree. I don't hesitate, even as more shots fly past me. Even as another bullet lodges itself in my shoulder. Even as my fists clench around the remains of my love, my heart. My Alex.
No. Can't break down. Can't do it now. Please. Let me be strong enough.
I drop into Obfuscate and run for my life. The buzzing whine of the drone continues, still above me, but falling back. The sound of the ATV seems to be heading in the opposite direction. Concentrating only enough to reach to Tommy's thoughts, I speak a name and quickly cut off the connection. Weak from pain and blood loss, I push myself to keep running, unconsciously keeping far from my own haven, making enough distance between myself, the Hunters and anyone I love who could get caught in the crossfire. I clench my jaw against the howl of agony that threatens to immolate me from the inside out. The woods are now far behind me, and I head towards a populated neighborhood, sniffing the air to find an unoccupied house.
I crawl through a broken window, choking down the smell of mildew and stagnant air. Making a beeline for the bathroom, I slam the door behind me, turning the thumb lock. A pathetic effort of security. Collapsing into the bathtub, I curl into a ball, gasping and cowering against the tub floor. Terrified, despite the lack of pursuit. The smell of blood and ash and death clings to the scraps of my clothing. With clenched fists, I pull the shower curtain from its rings and ball it up, burying my face in the fabric. My shrieks are muffled, but barely. Pounding my fists, I feel the porcelain begin to shatter under my body. I press my lips together hard, forcing the scream back down my throat. Unable to control the needless gasping, I pull my battered form into a sitting position. My hands lay clenched in my lap, and I muster my last force of will to open them.
The sound of skateboard bearings were loud enough to hear even over my blaring iPod. The momentum of the wheels slow as they approach me. My right hand falls to my side, fingers pointed towards the knife in my boot, just in case. I slip my headphones from my ears, sniffing and turning cautiously towards the stranger at my side. He's tan, dark haired, and probably around my age. His scent is a weird mix of human and vampire. My hands relax, stowing into my hoodie pockets. We make casual small talk, and when he makes a flirtatious joke, my easy smile grows almost embarrassed. I rub at my cheek, at the blush that doesn't grow there, with an open palm.
My palms lay open in my lap, and in each is a small mound of ash. All that is left of my Alex. I move my hands so that the influx of tears don't splash into them. I still feel the phantom weight of his body in my arms, and the unburdening as the last bullet tore through him. My mind feels hollow without the comfort of his thoughts. I need him. I need him. Alex, please. I need you.
With the utmost care, I gently pour his ashes onto the jutting soap dish. My hands shake and I pull off the shreds of my shirt and the obliterated vest underneath. My flesh is riddled with holes. Gritting my teeth, I grow my claws and dig them into a hole in the middle of my chest. Under the damaged muscle, I feel a small fissure in my sternum. Staring ahead, tears still trailing down my cheeks, I snap several ribs. My pained moan echoes in the tiled room. Shaking my head slightly, I pull my knife from my boot, and without hesitation, dig the tip into my unbeating heart. More blood spills, as I carve a small pocket in the useless organ, and drop the knife into my lap. Wiping my hands on the shower curtain, I retrieve the pile of ashes from the soap dish. I curl my fingers closed, speaking aloud in a watery tone.
"I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I should have...I should have tried harder...done more to save you. I should have died in your place..."
My words dissolve into brief sobbing, and I concentrate on the throb of pain in my chest to stem my tears. "I love you. All my life, I've never loved anything more."
I take the handful of ashes, and with the precision of a surgeon, place them in the wounded pocket of my heart. Willing the scant bit of blood in my system to the area, I heal the organ and surrounding bone. My head falls back against the tile, the tears drying on my face. I feel the pull of unconsciousness, and struggle to fight it off. I can't fall asleep here. They could find me. Anyone could find me. I'd yearn for the bliss of death such a situation would bring, but I know there's no peace. Not even then. Not ever.
Weakened and agonized, I muster enough energy to stumble from the tub and the house. I peer through the dark back yard, and drag myself to a small crop of bushes and trees. Forcing my bloody hands into the dirt, I dig steadily until the hole is sufficient. Dropping into the ground, I pull the dirt back in around me and settle into the earth. The silence, the pain and the loss bring about a sense of nostalgia. Before the decade old memory can fully resurface, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
https://youtu.be/KUCyjDOlnPU
No. Can't break down. Can't do it now. Please. Let me be strong enough.
I drop into Obfuscate and run for my life. The buzzing whine of the drone continues, still above me, but falling back. The sound of the ATV seems to be heading in the opposite direction. Concentrating only enough to reach to Tommy's thoughts, I speak a name and quickly cut off the connection. Weak from pain and blood loss, I push myself to keep running, unconsciously keeping far from my own haven, making enough distance between myself, the Hunters and anyone I love who could get caught in the crossfire. I clench my jaw against the howl of agony that threatens to immolate me from the inside out. The woods are now far behind me, and I head towards a populated neighborhood, sniffing the air to find an unoccupied house.
I crawl through a broken window, choking down the smell of mildew and stagnant air. Making a beeline for the bathroom, I slam the door behind me, turning the thumb lock. A pathetic effort of security. Collapsing into the bathtub, I curl into a ball, gasping and cowering against the tub floor. Terrified, despite the lack of pursuit. The smell of blood and ash and death clings to the scraps of my clothing. With clenched fists, I pull the shower curtain from its rings and ball it up, burying my face in the fabric. My shrieks are muffled, but barely. Pounding my fists, I feel the porcelain begin to shatter under my body. I press my lips together hard, forcing the scream back down my throat. Unable to control the needless gasping, I pull my battered form into a sitting position. My hands lay clenched in my lap, and I muster my last force of will to open them.
The sound of skateboard bearings were loud enough to hear even over my blaring iPod. The momentum of the wheels slow as they approach me. My right hand falls to my side, fingers pointed towards the knife in my boot, just in case. I slip my headphones from my ears, sniffing and turning cautiously towards the stranger at my side. He's tan, dark haired, and probably around my age. His scent is a weird mix of human and vampire. My hands relax, stowing into my hoodie pockets. We make casual small talk, and when he makes a flirtatious joke, my easy smile grows almost embarrassed. I rub at my cheek, at the blush that doesn't grow there, with an open palm.
My palms lay open in my lap, and in each is a small mound of ash. All that is left of my Alex. I move my hands so that the influx of tears don't splash into them. I still feel the phantom weight of his body in my arms, and the unburdening as the last bullet tore through him. My mind feels hollow without the comfort of his thoughts. I need him. I need him. Alex, please. I need you.
With the utmost care, I gently pour his ashes onto the jutting soap dish. My hands shake and I pull off the shreds of my shirt and the obliterated vest underneath. My flesh is riddled with holes. Gritting my teeth, I grow my claws and dig them into a hole in the middle of my chest. Under the damaged muscle, I feel a small fissure in my sternum. Staring ahead, tears still trailing down my cheeks, I snap several ribs. My pained moan echoes in the tiled room. Shaking my head slightly, I pull my knife from my boot, and without hesitation, dig the tip into my unbeating heart. More blood spills, as I carve a small pocket in the useless organ, and drop the knife into my lap. Wiping my hands on the shower curtain, I retrieve the pile of ashes from the soap dish. I curl my fingers closed, speaking aloud in a watery tone.
"I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I should have...I should have tried harder...done more to save you. I should have died in your place..."
My words dissolve into brief sobbing, and I concentrate on the throb of pain in my chest to stem my tears. "I love you. All my life, I've never loved anything more."
I take the handful of ashes, and with the precision of a surgeon, place them in the wounded pocket of my heart. Willing the scant bit of blood in my system to the area, I heal the organ and surrounding bone. My head falls back against the tile, the tears drying on my face. I feel the pull of unconsciousness, and struggle to fight it off. I can't fall asleep here. They could find me. Anyone could find me. I'd yearn for the bliss of death such a situation would bring, but I know there's no peace. Not even then. Not ever.
Weakened and agonized, I muster enough energy to stumble from the tub and the house. I peer through the dark back yard, and drag myself to a small crop of bushes and trees. Forcing my bloody hands into the dirt, I dig steadily until the hole is sufficient. Dropping into the ground, I pull the dirt back in around me and settle into the earth. The silence, the pain and the loss bring about a sense of nostalgia. Before the decade old memory can fully resurface, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
https://youtu.be/KUCyjDOlnPU
Friday, September 2, 2016
Now you're in my world, did you dream it be so small? My little box was perfect, 'till you destroyed it all.
As is too often lately, my quest to feed turns into mindless wandering. Headphones tucked into my ears, I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up and meander deep into the woods. There's no movement or sound among the trees, and I almost feel guilty for disturbing the wildlife. I'm grateful that the only voice in my head is my own, and eventually I begin to hum along with the music, staring down at my feet as I walk. Lost in my thoughts, it's not too long before I get the distinct feeling of being watched. More curious than concerned, I glance up and see nothing amiss. My gaze turns to the sky, and I notice small flock of crows roosting in the highest branches of a pine. Over the sound of music and my own humming, I hear a gasp, then a disturbingly familiar voice spitting out a curse. After a second, I hear the voice again and my heart drops into my gut.
"... M-Mad... that you?"
I jump as if the voice shouted, and pull my headphones out, letting them dangle towards the ground. Blinking a few times, my emotions churn from hostile, to sad, and seem to settled on resigned. I rub at my forehead, knowing I'm in for a mentally exhausting episode. I look towards the direction of the voice, and reply in a subdued tone.
"OK. Guess I should have expected something like this..."
Yellow eyes, blonde hair, tan coat...everything is the same as Mongrel drops his Obfuscate and takes a tentative step out from behind a tree. Even the Desert Eagle is the same, pointed directly at my chest. His teeth are bared in an angry smile, "I could say the same. I don't know who you are but either you're a figment of my fucked up imagination, or you're at the wrong end of a sick joke... and I'm going to enjoy peeling your skin off in strips." His voice becomes more of a bestial growl as his claws began to sprout.
Sighing lightly, I absently retrieve my headphones, wrapping the cord around my iPod and safety stowing it in my pocket. Pulling my hood down, I shrug and avoid the illusion's eyes. "If that's what I need. I just wish...could you not look like him? It's too.." I breathe in through my nose, my head cocked to the side as I'm assaulted with the smell of clove and cinnamon. "..too fucking realistic."
He snarls, "Too realistic? Too realistic for -you-? Oh, this is fucking real alright, GHOST BITCH! C'mon, let's go! If you're gonna wear her face at least try to act like her! I've had about enough of you." He slips the pistol into its holster at and shrugs off his coat, the joints in his arms and neck clicking and groaning as his physical frame expands slowly. He becomes steadily covered in thick coarse fur, eyes glowing a bright yellow. His voice is vastly deeper, distorted and monstrous, "Throw another tree at me if you have to. I've learned some new tricks. This ends tonight. My Maddie is dead."
I breathe in again as he says the words "my Maddie". My eyes wide and confused under a furrowed brow. "Throw a tree?" A sort of recognition crosses my mind, and I bring my hand to my mouth, remembering my actions during the steady slide of insanity less than a year ago. "Nooo...no, this can't be.." I step closer, unconcerned by his monstrous transformation. Sniffing deeply I let out a pained moan. "...Mongrel?"
He watches me, hesitating, something like doubt in his furious glowing yellow eyes but he howls up at the sky, "HOW DARE YOOOOOOOOUUUUU!" Drool slides from his elongating jaw as he scrutinizes my smaller form. His arm pulls back as if to claw at me, but instead scrapes deep furrows off a nearby tree trunk. I flinch away, more from the echo of his raised voice, than his actions. Undaunted, I move forward, reaching my fingers towards his heaving chest. He growls, pulling away slightly. My gaze tics back and forth manically, taking in his transformation. Despite the underlying fear, I'm almost hurt by his reaction to my approach. Nevertheless I meet his eyes, pressing my palm flat against his skin.
"Fuck...oh...fuck.." My voice is agonized, and I blink rapidly, struggling to keep my vision clear as I remember every painful detail. Following Mongrel. Torturing him. Tormenting him. Mad with grief and delusion, trying to push him enough so that he'd feel even a fraction of the pain I felt when he abandoned me. My hand trembles as the truth sinks in.
Mongrel shudders at my touch and his eyes instantly soften, painfully so. His garbled bestial voice tries to sound out my name, "MRRAA--MAARRGGG. MAAAD--". Jerking in pain, his form reverts suddenly, my hand now pressing against a loose torn tank-top and his chest as he fights to maintain balance after the change, "....oh just kill me already," he laments as he slumps to his knees. I watch him fall, bringing the hand that was on his chest to my nose. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the scent on my fingertips, my expression almost blissful. Just as quickly, I shake my head in attempt to clear it, and carefully kneel in front of him. Pressing my lips together, I place my hands on my knees and try to catch his eyes. He returns the gaze and manages a decent glare, "Yannoh, for a hallucination, you're pretty darn stubborn." I frown slightly, and he quirks a brow, "Are you... smelling me?"
Nodding my head, almost guiltily, my words come out in a ramble. "I keep some of those essential oil things so I can always recognize your scent.." I trail off, embarrassed, feeling confused again. "Are you really real?"
He groans, the sound seems to cut into me like a blade. "Unfortunately. Are...you?" He watches me closely.
I roll the question around in my thoughts, unable to keep the unsureness from my answer. "Yeah?" I have to be real, and if I'm real, and he's real. "Oh god...if this is.." My hand reaches out, as if to touch him again. I pull it away instead, and cover my face. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
My apologies continue unabated, my face still hidden behind my hands.
I feel his arm slide around my shoulders, rubbing my arm gently. "Hey... hey... it's alright. I'm not gonna peel your skin off or anything, that was mostly bravado. We're good here... um..." The feel of his touch, and his voice so close to me...I drag my hands away and stare up at him in disbelief. "How can you...after all I..." I place just the tips of my fingers on his cheek, struggling to formulate a full sentence. "If you wanted to hurt me, for revenge...I would understand."
He tilts his head and regards me, something of a smile forming on his lips, "If you were her, you would know precisely why I could never do that."
His continued denial of my identity gnaws at me, and I halfheartedly snap at him. "God damn it, I am her! Me. I'm me. Stop being all sensible and...Mongrely."
He shakes his head in wonder, "You even sound like her now. I really am losing it." He sighs and draws his knees up, releasing his hold on me to prop himself up, "You spend too much time around Malks they start rubbing off on you... that's what they said. Now look at me." He chuckles to himself sadly, "This is a nice change of pace though. I get to talk to her for a minute before you start hitting me with things. Thanks, I guess."
I huff out a needless breath, just as exasperated with his words as I am with the void I feel our lack of contact. "I'm not going to hurt you. I never should have in the first place." Staying down on my knees, I drop my gaze to the dirt. "I was hoping. I was really hoping that out of anything...that part wasn't real. 'Cause if I actually did all that stuff, actually hurt you..." Wrapping my arms around myself, my next words are just louder than a whisper. "I really am a fucking monster."
He seems unconcerned by my response, idly brushing dirt from his pants."This has been a great chat and everything but last I checked, you're dead and I'm insane so this has to give, one way or another. Maddie is dead." I flinch again as he stands up, his eyes losing their light and his voice growing solemn. "Sasa will find me eventually. I'm not big on vengeance but that's his whole shebang so if you dust me now, be prepared to have an OCD Assamite on your ass all the way into the next century. Let me tell you--one time I used the towels in the bathroom and didn't put them back the 'right' way, the lad nearly had a fit."
I snort laughter at his comment, despite my distress. Putting my hands at my sides, palms up, I simply gaze up at Mongrel. "I'd try to prove I'm real, but I left my notebook at the Barony. I get kind of fuzzy about stuff without it."
He chuckles with my laughter, before his palm slams into my throat, lifting me from the ground and securing me in a crushing grip. I don't struggle or fight, even as his lips twist into a maddening smile. "I wasn't kidding around about the 'insane' bit. I'm not exactly 'all there' anymore. You wanna see something scary? Take someone and systematically destroy everything they love... -twist- it a little. You wanna see scary, take me. I'm not entirely myself these days but I won't let anyone else on, now will I? No. You show anyone enough of what I've seen and tell them to carry on, most will seek cool metal against the temple but not me... I... can't. You took a perfectly good Gangrel and you BROKE IT. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" He shakes me a bit, like a limp rag dog, before dropping back to the dirt. I cower there, subdued and submissive. My chest hitches, and I try and fail to hold back a sob. "I know. I know." I swipe the back of her hand against the welling moisture in my eyes, almost angrily. "...I told you. I always told you and everyone that I'm poison and..and bad...and and..."
My voice is wavering and unsteady, and the words I've repeated so many times to so many loved ones seem to burn as they pass my lips. "I tried, Mongrel. I tried so hard.."
His voice is loud, and over his words I hear the crows chatter and ruffle their wings in the tree above us. "YOU BROKE IT. YOU BROKE... me." He kneels before me, eyes rimmed with red tears, "There was a point, Maddie, when you were everything I loved. I... I know that wasn't really you in the woods before. If it was, I know it wasn't your choice. I forgive you. What I can't forgive is you not letting me know you were alive. Were you ever dead? Explain. Explain to me this HELL you put me through. Please. You owe me that much at least."
His words wound, and I hiss my pain through clenched teeth. "You broke me too, god damn it!" My voice sounds petulant, almost sulky. "Even when I stopped being your everything, you were still mine. Whatever happened to me that night with the Sabbat..." I pause, clenching my fists and refusing to look at him. "...obviously being dead was more preferable to living without you." As many times as I spoke them to myself, the words sound ten times more pathetic spoken aloud.
His brow wrinkles in fury, "How.... how could you even think that?"
"Gosh. I dunno. It's almost like I'm fucking crazy." Despite the flippancy of my response, a tear courses down my cheek. I wrap my arms around myself, desperate for comfort.
"Mad, " he whispers, "I didn't know you... felt like that."
A little voice whispers in my mind...liar liar, he knew all along. He didn't care... I speak over the dissent of my thoughts."I love..." my voice catches, "..ed you. You were that one fucking tether...the one constant that I had. I've always been weak, Mongrel." I wipe at my face again, angered by the traitorous tears. "And in my defense, I only realized I wasn't dead-dead about four months ago.."
"I was rather convenient for you, wasn't I?" My eyes meet his, and his smirk is cruel, "I was always there for you, every fuck up I was ready to cover you. Naive little Mongrel groveling after you." He snorts, "So... you've been alive this entire time? Makes sense why none of our hedgewitch charms worked... you weren't a spirit."
I flinch, squeezing my arms tighter around myself, only managing two whispered words. "...I'm sorry."
His voice grows cold, "You know what?... You should be." Gathering his coat around his shoulders, he shrugs it back on, starting to walk away, "Stop using me as an excuse. Stop being weak. It is counter-intuitive to your survival. Madelyn, grow the fuck up. ...I forgive you." And with that he walks back towards the gravel driveway. I remain on the ground, in the dirt, without replying. My hand steals to my pocket, clutching around the iPod like it was a talisman. I can't force myself to look at Mongrel as he walks away. He footsteps stop, and after a moment I hear his voice again, tentative."Hey, um... I'm sure being dead and all you might need a refresher in, yannoh, not being dead-dead so.... Thursdays we do karaoke at The Post."
Still not looking up at him, I reply: "You don't have to...make niceties or whatever. I know my place. I'm not gonna force my way back into your life." My voice sounds hollow, deadened in my own ears. Full exhaustion, both mind and body, begins to take hold of me.
"Mad, " Mongrel chides, almost genially, "you smacked me with a tree... among other things. You kinda owe me. Besides, it'll be good for ya." He chuckles and tosses something in my direction. "Hey, I'm glad you're probably not a hallucination. I've missed you." He footsteps move away again.
I hear the door slam and the engine start up, just like over a decade ago when he left me the house and left me alone. There's a weird gasping sound coming from somewhere, and it takes me a minute to realize that I'm still drawing in deep breaths of air, trying to keep Mongrel's scent from leaving my senses. My hands are idly clawing furrows in the dirt, and with the deep set ache in my chest and gut, I'm surprised when it's not bits of my insides that I'm pulling from the ground. My legs give no sign of wanting to support me enough to stand. Cursing aloud, I fight the urge to call for help from Tommy or Sailix or Alex.
Alex.
Summoning his face into my thoughts, I force myself to my feet. Pausing to grab the printed card Mongrel tossed to me, I stow it in my pocket next to my iPod and make tracks back to Crownsville. The trip is a steady blur, and when I finally make it to the fairgrounds, the sky is lightening. I stare towards the horizon, where the sun has yet to cross. Exhausted, swaying on my feet, I make sure my face is clean of any residual tears before making my way to me and Alex's room. He speaks to me as I enter, concerned, possibly angry...I avoid his eyes and pull my sweatshirt off, ignoring the scent that lingers in the fabric. Crawling onto the futon, my voice is quiet and almost frightened as I raise my eyes to his.
"Hold me? Please?"
Much like the first night I asked him to stay with me, he climbs onto the mattress, pulling me to his chest. I close my eyes and bury my face against his warm skin. My thoughts are like a mantra, despite quickly approaching slumber.
Please don't ever leave me, Alex. Please don't ever leave me. I can't ever lose you. Please don't leave me.
It's only in the moment that I fall into my daily torpor, that I realize that I'm begging aloud.
https://youtu.be/HTzvwXJhxXw
"... M-Mad... that you?"
I jump as if the voice shouted, and pull my headphones out, letting them dangle towards the ground. Blinking a few times, my emotions churn from hostile, to sad, and seem to settled on resigned. I rub at my forehead, knowing I'm in for a mentally exhausting episode. I look towards the direction of the voice, and reply in a subdued tone.
"OK. Guess I should have expected something like this..."
Yellow eyes, blonde hair, tan coat...everything is the same as Mongrel drops his Obfuscate and takes a tentative step out from behind a tree. Even the Desert Eagle is the same, pointed directly at my chest. His teeth are bared in an angry smile, "I could say the same. I don't know who you are but either you're a figment of my fucked up imagination, or you're at the wrong end of a sick joke... and I'm going to enjoy peeling your skin off in strips." His voice becomes more of a bestial growl as his claws began to sprout.
Sighing lightly, I absently retrieve my headphones, wrapping the cord around my iPod and safety stowing it in my pocket. Pulling my hood down, I shrug and avoid the illusion's eyes. "If that's what I need. I just wish...could you not look like him? It's too.." I breathe in through my nose, my head cocked to the side as I'm assaulted with the smell of clove and cinnamon. "..too fucking realistic."
He snarls, "Too realistic? Too realistic for -you-? Oh, this is fucking real alright, GHOST BITCH! C'mon, let's go! If you're gonna wear her face at least try to act like her! I've had about enough of you." He slips the pistol into its holster at and shrugs off his coat, the joints in his arms and neck clicking and groaning as his physical frame expands slowly. He becomes steadily covered in thick coarse fur, eyes glowing a bright yellow. His voice is vastly deeper, distorted and monstrous, "Throw another tree at me if you have to. I've learned some new tricks. This ends tonight. My Maddie is dead."
I breathe in again as he says the words "my Maddie". My eyes wide and confused under a furrowed brow. "Throw a tree?" A sort of recognition crosses my mind, and I bring my hand to my mouth, remembering my actions during the steady slide of insanity less than a year ago. "Nooo...no, this can't be.." I step closer, unconcerned by his monstrous transformation. Sniffing deeply I let out a pained moan. "...Mongrel?"
He watches me, hesitating, something like doubt in his furious glowing yellow eyes but he howls up at the sky, "HOW DARE YOOOOOOOOUUUUU!" Drool slides from his elongating jaw as he scrutinizes my smaller form. His arm pulls back as if to claw at me, but instead scrapes deep furrows off a nearby tree trunk. I flinch away, more from the echo of his raised voice, than his actions. Undaunted, I move forward, reaching my fingers towards his heaving chest. He growls, pulling away slightly. My gaze tics back and forth manically, taking in his transformation. Despite the underlying fear, I'm almost hurt by his reaction to my approach. Nevertheless I meet his eyes, pressing my palm flat against his skin.
"Fuck...oh...fuck.." My voice is agonized, and I blink rapidly, struggling to keep my vision clear as I remember every painful detail. Following Mongrel. Torturing him. Tormenting him. Mad with grief and delusion, trying to push him enough so that he'd feel even a fraction of the pain I felt when he abandoned me. My hand trembles as the truth sinks in.
Mongrel shudders at my touch and his eyes instantly soften, painfully so. His garbled bestial voice tries to sound out my name, "MRRAA--MAARRGGG. MAAAD--". Jerking in pain, his form reverts suddenly, my hand now pressing against a loose torn tank-top and his chest as he fights to maintain balance after the change, "....oh just kill me already," he laments as he slumps to his knees. I watch him fall, bringing the hand that was on his chest to my nose. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the scent on my fingertips, my expression almost blissful. Just as quickly, I shake my head in attempt to clear it, and carefully kneel in front of him. Pressing my lips together, I place my hands on my knees and try to catch his eyes. He returns the gaze and manages a decent glare, "Yannoh, for a hallucination, you're pretty darn stubborn." I frown slightly, and he quirks a brow, "Are you... smelling me?"
Nodding my head, almost guiltily, my words come out in a ramble. "I keep some of those essential oil things so I can always recognize your scent.." I trail off, embarrassed, feeling confused again. "Are you really real?"
He groans, the sound seems to cut into me like a blade. "Unfortunately. Are...you?" He watches me closely.
I roll the question around in my thoughts, unable to keep the unsureness from my answer. "Yeah?" I have to be real, and if I'm real, and he's real. "Oh god...if this is.." My hand reaches out, as if to touch him again. I pull it away instead, and cover my face. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
My apologies continue unabated, my face still hidden behind my hands.
I feel his arm slide around my shoulders, rubbing my arm gently. "Hey... hey... it's alright. I'm not gonna peel your skin off or anything, that was mostly bravado. We're good here... um..." The feel of his touch, and his voice so close to me...I drag my hands away and stare up at him in disbelief. "How can you...after all I..." I place just the tips of my fingers on his cheek, struggling to formulate a full sentence. "If you wanted to hurt me, for revenge...I would understand."
He tilts his head and regards me, something of a smile forming on his lips, "If you were her, you would know precisely why I could never do that."
His continued denial of my identity gnaws at me, and I halfheartedly snap at him. "God damn it, I am her! Me. I'm me. Stop being all sensible and...Mongrely."
He shakes his head in wonder, "You even sound like her now. I really am losing it." He sighs and draws his knees up, releasing his hold on me to prop himself up, "You spend too much time around Malks they start rubbing off on you... that's what they said. Now look at me." He chuckles to himself sadly, "This is a nice change of pace though. I get to talk to her for a minute before you start hitting me with things. Thanks, I guess."
I huff out a needless breath, just as exasperated with his words as I am with the void I feel our lack of contact. "I'm not going to hurt you. I never should have in the first place." Staying down on my knees, I drop my gaze to the dirt. "I was hoping. I was really hoping that out of anything...that part wasn't real. 'Cause if I actually did all that stuff, actually hurt you..." Wrapping my arms around myself, my next words are just louder than a whisper. "I really am a fucking monster."
He seems unconcerned by my response, idly brushing dirt from his pants."This has been a great chat and everything but last I checked, you're dead and I'm insane so this has to give, one way or another. Maddie is dead." I flinch again as he stands up, his eyes losing their light and his voice growing solemn. "Sasa will find me eventually. I'm not big on vengeance but that's his whole shebang so if you dust me now, be prepared to have an OCD Assamite on your ass all the way into the next century. Let me tell you--one time I used the towels in the bathroom and didn't put them back the 'right' way, the lad nearly had a fit."
I snort laughter at his comment, despite my distress. Putting my hands at my sides, palms up, I simply gaze up at Mongrel. "I'd try to prove I'm real, but I left my notebook at the Barony. I get kind of fuzzy about stuff without it."
He chuckles with my laughter, before his palm slams into my throat, lifting me from the ground and securing me in a crushing grip. I don't struggle or fight, even as his lips twist into a maddening smile. "I wasn't kidding around about the 'insane' bit. I'm not exactly 'all there' anymore. You wanna see something scary? Take someone and systematically destroy everything they love... -twist- it a little. You wanna see scary, take me. I'm not entirely myself these days but I won't let anyone else on, now will I? No. You show anyone enough of what I've seen and tell them to carry on, most will seek cool metal against the temple but not me... I... can't. You took a perfectly good Gangrel and you BROKE IT. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?" He shakes me a bit, like a limp rag dog, before dropping back to the dirt. I cower there, subdued and submissive. My chest hitches, and I try and fail to hold back a sob. "I know. I know." I swipe the back of her hand against the welling moisture in my eyes, almost angrily. "...I told you. I always told you and everyone that I'm poison and..and bad...and and..."
My voice is wavering and unsteady, and the words I've repeated so many times to so many loved ones seem to burn as they pass my lips. "I tried, Mongrel. I tried so hard.."
His voice is loud, and over his words I hear the crows chatter and ruffle their wings in the tree above us. "YOU BROKE IT. YOU BROKE... me." He kneels before me, eyes rimmed with red tears, "There was a point, Maddie, when you were everything I loved. I... I know that wasn't really you in the woods before. If it was, I know it wasn't your choice. I forgive you. What I can't forgive is you not letting me know you were alive. Were you ever dead? Explain. Explain to me this HELL you put me through. Please. You owe me that much at least."
His words wound, and I hiss my pain through clenched teeth. "You broke me too, god damn it!" My voice sounds petulant, almost sulky. "Even when I stopped being your everything, you were still mine. Whatever happened to me that night with the Sabbat..." I pause, clenching my fists and refusing to look at him. "...obviously being dead was more preferable to living without you." As many times as I spoke them to myself, the words sound ten times more pathetic spoken aloud.
His brow wrinkles in fury, "How.... how could you even think that?"
"Gosh. I dunno. It's almost like I'm fucking crazy." Despite the flippancy of my response, a tear courses down my cheek. I wrap my arms around myself, desperate for comfort.
"Mad, " he whispers, "I didn't know you... felt like that."
A little voice whispers in my mind...liar liar, he knew all along. He didn't care... I speak over the dissent of my thoughts."I love..." my voice catches, "..ed you. You were that one fucking tether...the one constant that I had. I've always been weak, Mongrel." I wipe at my face again, angered by the traitorous tears. "And in my defense, I only realized I wasn't dead-dead about four months ago.."
"I was rather convenient for you, wasn't I?" My eyes meet his, and his smirk is cruel, "I was always there for you, every fuck up I was ready to cover you. Naive little Mongrel groveling after you." He snorts, "So... you've been alive this entire time? Makes sense why none of our hedgewitch charms worked... you weren't a spirit."
I flinch, squeezing my arms tighter around myself, only managing two whispered words. "...I'm sorry."
His voice grows cold, "You know what?... You should be." Gathering his coat around his shoulders, he shrugs it back on, starting to walk away, "Stop using me as an excuse. Stop being weak. It is counter-intuitive to your survival. Madelyn, grow the fuck up. ...I forgive you." And with that he walks back towards the gravel driveway. I remain on the ground, in the dirt, without replying. My hand steals to my pocket, clutching around the iPod like it was a talisman. I can't force myself to look at Mongrel as he walks away. He footsteps stop, and after a moment I hear his voice again, tentative."Hey, um... I'm sure being dead and all you might need a refresher in, yannoh, not being dead-dead so.... Thursdays we do karaoke at The Post."
Still not looking up at him, I reply: "You don't have to...make niceties or whatever. I know my place. I'm not gonna force my way back into your life." My voice sounds hollow, deadened in my own ears. Full exhaustion, both mind and body, begins to take hold of me.
"Mad, " Mongrel chides, almost genially, "you smacked me with a tree... among other things. You kinda owe me. Besides, it'll be good for ya." He chuckles and tosses something in my direction. "Hey, I'm glad you're probably not a hallucination. I've missed you." He footsteps move away again.
I hear the door slam and the engine start up, just like over a decade ago when he left me the house and left me alone. There's a weird gasping sound coming from somewhere, and it takes me a minute to realize that I'm still drawing in deep breaths of air, trying to keep Mongrel's scent from leaving my senses. My hands are idly clawing furrows in the dirt, and with the deep set ache in my chest and gut, I'm surprised when it's not bits of my insides that I'm pulling from the ground. My legs give no sign of wanting to support me enough to stand. Cursing aloud, I fight the urge to call for help from Tommy or Sailix or Alex.
Alex.
Summoning his face into my thoughts, I force myself to my feet. Pausing to grab the printed card Mongrel tossed to me, I stow it in my pocket next to my iPod and make tracks back to Crownsville. The trip is a steady blur, and when I finally make it to the fairgrounds, the sky is lightening. I stare towards the horizon, where the sun has yet to cross. Exhausted, swaying on my feet, I make sure my face is clean of any residual tears before making my way to me and Alex's room. He speaks to me as I enter, concerned, possibly angry...I avoid his eyes and pull my sweatshirt off, ignoring the scent that lingers in the fabric. Crawling onto the futon, my voice is quiet and almost frightened as I raise my eyes to his.
"Hold me? Please?"
Much like the first night I asked him to stay with me, he climbs onto the mattress, pulling me to his chest. I close my eyes and bury my face against his warm skin. My thoughts are like a mantra, despite quickly approaching slumber.
Please don't ever leave me, Alex. Please don't ever leave me. I can't ever lose you. Please don't leave me.
It's only in the moment that I fall into my daily torpor, that I realize that I'm begging aloud.
https://youtu.be/HTzvwXJhxXw
Monday, August 22, 2016
Louder than ever, help me remember.
My face is buried in my hands, a wasted effort, because I still see Alex's lifeless body in Sailix's arms. The image seems burned into my retinas, haunting me without respite. From the other side of the car, I hear his voice, unsteady but existent as he speaks in a low tone to Troy. The sound should comfort me. Assuage me. He's alive. He's alive. But at what cost? Dragging my hands away from my eyes, I look over to Sailix leaning against the hood of Troy's car, his expression almost shell-shocked. The mauled side of his face is turned towards me, reminding me how close to losing it I came. Out loud, I laugh at my own use of past tense, the brief sound quickly turning to a quiet sob.
He saved Alex when you didn't. When you you couldn't. When you wouldn't.
Wouldn't?! He didn't want me to! He didn't want my blood. Didn't want me to turn him.
Haven't you proven that was the better choice on his part?
I clamp my hand over my mouth, fighting down the scream that wants to tear from my throat. A scream that seems to be echoed in my thoughts, the tone contrasted with my own. There was never a worse time to leave Alex, but I've never needed to more. There's too much, and I can't. I have to get this out of me, before I hurt someone else that I love. Sailix is still lost in his own thoughts, and I'm grateful for his distraction. Alex stands a distance away, bloodied, burned, but alive. Troy holds his attention and I make myself fade from sight before I grow too weak to walk away from them.
Walk away. Ha.
I move North, ignoring the smack and snap of branches against my skin as I run through the woods. I'm thankful that my feet know the way, as my eyes are too blurred with red to see clearly. My own home and its current inhabitant call to me as I pass near. I drag myself further, to a ramshackle home hidden in a grove of trees. Slowing my pace as I approach the building, I wipe my eyes and climb the stairs to the front door. There's no sound from within, even as I turn the tarnished handle and enter, breathing in deeply through my nose. His scent is still potent, so much like mine.
He saved Alex when you didn't. When you you couldn't. When you wouldn't.
Wouldn't?! He didn't want me to! He didn't want my blood. Didn't want me to turn him.
Haven't you proven that was the better choice on his part?
I clamp my hand over my mouth, fighting down the scream that wants to tear from my throat. A scream that seems to be echoed in my thoughts, the tone contrasted with my own. There was never a worse time to leave Alex, but I've never needed to more. There's too much, and I can't. I have to get this out of me, before I hurt someone else that I love. Sailix is still lost in his own thoughts, and I'm grateful for his distraction. Alex stands a distance away, bloodied, burned, but alive. Troy holds his attention and I make myself fade from sight before I grow too weak to walk away from them.
Walk away. Ha.
I move North, ignoring the smack and snap of branches against my skin as I run through the woods. I'm thankful that my feet know the way, as my eyes are too blurred with red to see clearly. My own home and its current inhabitant call to me as I pass near. I drag myself further, to a ramshackle home hidden in a grove of trees. Slowing my pace as I approach the building, I wipe my eyes and climb the stairs to the front door. There's no sound from within, even as I turn the tarnished handle and enter, breathing in deeply through my nose. His scent is still potent, so much like mine.
He's still here. Well, of course! Where is he gonna go? He's young, and fresh, and nowhere near as strong as his Sire.
I shiver slightly, covering my mouth as if I said the words aloud. I make my way through the kitchen, down into the black, damp basement. The gun safe is still there, untouched and unopened. Standing in front of it, my eyes are wide, mouth still covered by my fingertips. My mind goes blank, and for a moment I'm unable to remember the young man's name. I recall leaving Alex before Elysium last night, him not even questioning my plans to go feed. Stealing a car. Driving to the nearest shopping mall. It was late enough so that the stores were closing, but not so late that employees weren't taking a quick smoke break in an empty service entrance. He was outside, alone, looking barely old enough to buy cigarettes. All spikes and piercings and a half shaved head. Almost pretty. If I wasn't about to be breaking my own moral code, I'd laugh at the cliche of it. Now, what was his name? Something biblical...
"Noah. That's it, right?"
There's no reply from the other side of the door. I frown slightly, wondering if I didn't mess this up somehow, if I'm going to open the safe door to a pile of ash or a corpse. I lightly rap my knuckles on the steel and hear a shuffle of movement from inside. My frown grows deeper, and I speak directly towards the thin crack of the door. "Are you purposely ignoring me? That's so...do you have any idea the kind of night I've been having?!" Punching a number into the keypad, I spin the handle and swing the door open. I can't help but let out an expectant laugh as the day old vampire comes careening out of the safe. His fist catches my jaw, following a glancing blow across my cheek. I quickly catch him by the scruff of the neck, holding him steady like a misbehaving puppy. He struggles, but his strength can't compare to mine. After a moment he stills, staring at me, his expression terrified. I feel a conflicting mixture of shame and pride, holding the boy before me. "Hey, sorry about laughing. It's rude, but I really didn't expect you to take after me this much." His lip quivers, and I feel his emotions as deeply as my own. I release my grip on his neck, holding both my hands out, palms forward, in a sign of pacifism. "It's ok, Noah. You can talk."
His voice is deep, mismatching his pretty looks. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" He rubs at his face in yet another familiar gesture. "I'm so hungry, and my head is so...noisy."
I smile in what I think is a comforting way, ignoring how he flinches away from me. Again, his fear and confusion are almost palpable."That's a thing. Comes with the territory....could you stop that?" He starts to speak, but the overwhelming emotion coming from him seems to fill both my thoughts and my ears. "...stop.." I mumble, my hand lashing out and knocking Noah to the ground. He cowers, which makes me more angry. "Stop! You're supposed to be strong! Like me!" I swing my foot into his ribs. To my astonishment, he chuckles through what sounds like a punctured lung.
"You're not strong. Didn't you come here because.." I feel him rifling through my thoughts. "..because you're worried about your boyfriend?!"
I cut off the link between our minds, stomping my boot down on his gut. His laughter turns into a groan of pain as he rolls onto his side. "You were supposed to fix this! You were supposed to fix him! That was the plan...I'd make you and hand you over and Alex could be OK again."
Covering my face, I almost miss Noah as he lurches to his feet and attempts to escape me. My fingers grip into his shoulder, nails digging in as I push him towards the safe. He glances into it's depths, before turning to me and begging. "No...please don't make me...please don't put me back in there!" I look away from him, hiding the guilt in my expression as I shove him back into his personal prison.
"Noah. That's it, right?"
There's no reply from the other side of the door. I frown slightly, wondering if I didn't mess this up somehow, if I'm going to open the safe door to a pile of ash or a corpse. I lightly rap my knuckles on the steel and hear a shuffle of movement from inside. My frown grows deeper, and I speak directly towards the thin crack of the door. "Are you purposely ignoring me? That's so...do you have any idea the kind of night I've been having?!" Punching a number into the keypad, I spin the handle and swing the door open. I can't help but let out an expectant laugh as the day old vampire comes careening out of the safe. His fist catches my jaw, following a glancing blow across my cheek. I quickly catch him by the scruff of the neck, holding him steady like a misbehaving puppy. He struggles, but his strength can't compare to mine. After a moment he stills, staring at me, his expression terrified. I feel a conflicting mixture of shame and pride, holding the boy before me. "Hey, sorry about laughing. It's rude, but I really didn't expect you to take after me this much." His lip quivers, and I feel his emotions as deeply as my own. I release my grip on his neck, holding both my hands out, palms forward, in a sign of pacifism. "It's ok, Noah. You can talk."
His voice is deep, mismatching his pretty looks. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" He rubs at his face in yet another familiar gesture. "I'm so hungry, and my head is so...noisy."
I smile in what I think is a comforting way, ignoring how he flinches away from me. Again, his fear and confusion are almost palpable."That's a thing. Comes with the territory....could you stop that?" He starts to speak, but the overwhelming emotion coming from him seems to fill both my thoughts and my ears. "...stop.." I mumble, my hand lashing out and knocking Noah to the ground. He cowers, which makes me more angry. "Stop! You're supposed to be strong! Like me!" I swing my foot into his ribs. To my astonishment, he chuckles through what sounds like a punctured lung.
"You're not strong. Didn't you come here because.." I feel him rifling through my thoughts. "..because you're worried about your boyfriend?!"
I cut off the link between our minds, stomping my boot down on his gut. His laughter turns into a groan of pain as he rolls onto his side. "You were supposed to fix this! You were supposed to fix him! That was the plan...I'd make you and hand you over and Alex could be OK again."
Covering my face, I almost miss Noah as he lurches to his feet and attempts to escape me. My fingers grip into his shoulder, nails digging in as I push him towards the safe. He glances into it's depths, before turning to me and begging. "No...please don't make me...please don't put me back in there!" I look away from him, hiding the guilt in my expression as I shove him back into his personal prison.
The slam of the safe door muffles Noah's pained shrieks, but only fractionally. I press my forehead against the cold steel, squeezing my eyes shut. "Shhh. Shhh. It's OK. It'll get better. It gets better."
My palms hit the door, shaking the safe. I hear the boy hit the inside wall, desperate for escape. But his screams are no comfort to me. "No! No! It doesn't...it doesn't get better. Why didn't it? Why didn't it help me, Noah? I can't...I can't.." There's no reply other than muffled sobbing that echoes my own. I fall to the ground, curled in a ball in front of the safe. There's nothing. No comfort. I led the people I loved into danger. I attacked my best friend. Alex almost died. Alex did die. Alex is alive, and breathing, and living, and I can't...
My thoughts reach out to a close and familiar mind. The one I've wanted most, and avoided just as much."Please. Please, Tommy. I need you. I need you now. Please."
Waiting for either Tommy's response or refusal, I remain curled, groveling on the ground, my own cries drowning out those of my childer locked in the safe.
https://youtu.be/qnEFQ5r1nBM
My palms hit the door, shaking the safe. I hear the boy hit the inside wall, desperate for escape. But his screams are no comfort to me. "No! No! It doesn't...it doesn't get better. Why didn't it? Why didn't it help me, Noah? I can't...I can't.." There's no reply other than muffled sobbing that echoes my own. I fall to the ground, curled in a ball in front of the safe. There's nothing. No comfort. I led the people I loved into danger. I attacked my best friend. Alex almost died. Alex did die. Alex is alive, and breathing, and living, and I can't...
My thoughts reach out to a close and familiar mind. The one I've wanted most, and avoided just as much."Please. Please, Tommy. I need you. I need you now. Please."
Waiting for either Tommy's response or refusal, I remain curled, groveling on the ground, my own cries drowning out those of my childer locked in the safe.
https://youtu.be/qnEFQ5r1nBM
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Waking up good morning to you, my dear. I'm waking up enduring my biggest fear.
The clatter of something hitting the ground jars me out of whatever fugue I fell into. On the floor next to me is the fallen X-Box controller. On the tv screen some armored up cat creature is getting mauled by a walrus looking thing. I glance behind me at Alex. He's sprawled out, eyes closed, hand dangling off the edge of the futon. Rubbing my own eyes, I check the time on one of the lit up computer screens in the room. It's about an hour until dawn, and he's already fast asleep. Grabbing the controller, I rise to my feet, placing it on a table and turning the console and tv off. As gently as I can manage, I move Alex's hand, so it's resting next to him. He rolls onto his back, mumbling something about tacos, and I smile. Staring down at him, the small smile on my lips fades as I notice his deep, steady breathing. A pulse beats against the the fragile skin of his throat, seeming to permeate the bedroom with the sweet, warm smell of his blood. Glancing at the clock again, I breathe in lightly, swallowing hard and moving quickly and silently from the room.
My head clears slightly as I creep outside. A full moon hangs fat and bright in the sky, illuminating the sprawling fairgrounds. Catching a stray whiff of cigarette smoke and overbearing cologne, I briskly make my way to the other side of the building, not wanting to run into the french boy. Almost shamed at my own cowardice, I take refuge by one of the outhouses, ignoring the chemical stink and plunking down to sit against the splintered wood. The ground is still soft from the previous night's storms, and I idly poke my fingers into the damp soil. A patch of clouds pass over the moon, darkening the grounds. My thoughts seem to take a similar turn, as a swirl of voices echo in my ears.
They're going to come after you...
...you'll be the death of him...
....nothing but a monster.
...wrong to trust you...
He doesn't care...
Squeezing my temples between my palms, I bite down a sob.
I can't break down again. It was too close last night, too dangerous. I have to be strong for them. Alex, Tommy, Sailix, Pyotr. Hell, even Snack Pack. They're mine. They're my responsibility. But they're safe right now. They are.
Exhaling shakily, I turn my gaze out to the woods, feeling a soft pull in my blood that urges me North towards my own home. Struggling to ignore the sudden yearning, I rise to my feet and shake my head in a vain attempt to unmuddle it. The sky is lightening just enough for a keen eye to notice, and I follow Lumiere's trail of odor back into the building. Reentering Alex and I's room, I'm relieved that the scent of Alex's blood is no longer as overwhelming. He's still in the same position, but his sleeping expression seems uneasy, as if even in slumber he noticed my absence. Pausing only long enough to kick my boots off, I climb onto the mattress next to him and curl against his body.
"I love you Alex, by never in my life will I ever deserve you."
Resting my head on his chest, I close my eyes and let the rise and fall of his chest lull me to sleep.
https://youtu.be/kHg_XwPuY2E
My head clears slightly as I creep outside. A full moon hangs fat and bright in the sky, illuminating the sprawling fairgrounds. Catching a stray whiff of cigarette smoke and overbearing cologne, I briskly make my way to the other side of the building, not wanting to run into the french boy. Almost shamed at my own cowardice, I take refuge by one of the outhouses, ignoring the chemical stink and plunking down to sit against the splintered wood. The ground is still soft from the previous night's storms, and I idly poke my fingers into the damp soil. A patch of clouds pass over the moon, darkening the grounds. My thoughts seem to take a similar turn, as a swirl of voices echo in my ears.
They're going to come after you...
...you'll be the death of him...
....nothing but a monster.
...wrong to trust you...
He doesn't care...
Squeezing my temples between my palms, I bite down a sob.
I can't break down again. It was too close last night, too dangerous. I have to be strong for them. Alex, Tommy, Sailix, Pyotr. Hell, even Snack Pack. They're mine. They're my responsibility. But they're safe right now. They are.
Exhaling shakily, I turn my gaze out to the woods, feeling a soft pull in my blood that urges me North towards my own home. Struggling to ignore the sudden yearning, I rise to my feet and shake my head in a vain attempt to unmuddle it. The sky is lightening just enough for a keen eye to notice, and I follow Lumiere's trail of odor back into the building. Reentering Alex and I's room, I'm relieved that the scent of Alex's blood is no longer as overwhelming. He's still in the same position, but his sleeping expression seems uneasy, as if even in slumber he noticed my absence. Pausing only long enough to kick my boots off, I climb onto the mattress next to him and curl against his body.
"I love you Alex, by never in my life will I ever deserve you."
Resting my head on his chest, I close my eyes and let the rise and fall of his chest lull me to sleep.
https://youtu.be/kHg_XwPuY2E
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Wear the grudge like a crown, desperate to control. Unable to forgive and sinking deper.
I curse loudly, as another bobby pin falls from the stylishly messy pile of pink curls crowing my head. The small metal pin bounces out of sight, and a stray strand of hair falls over my face. Without use of a mirror, this whole attempt is going nowhere, fast. My vision blurs a faint red, and I fight back the tears of frustration.
It's supposed to be a happy night, and I'm supposed to be glowy, and excited, and oh fuck I can't mess up my makeup.
A few deep and needless breaths calm me enough to make another effort at my hair. Overwhelming relief fills me, as a familiar scent and a pair of velvet gloved hands come into my view. "Let me help you, dear. Your impatience has gotten the best of you." The Toreador's fingers work deftly in my hair, with a finesse that I could never grasp.
"Thanks, Miss Lucy. I was trying to...y'know. Just trying to do something for myself."
Lucy comes around into my view, hands still in my hair. She smiles, her expression kind. "Of course, but don't you worry about that. It's your big day, and you don't want to miss your big entrance." She finishes with my hair, and gives me a scrupulous once over, adjusting my jewelry, the hem of my dress, wiping at the corner of my eye with her thumb. I watch her inspection until my nerves get the best of me. Glancing down, I barely recognize myself. My body is swathed in white silk and lace, the train of the dress belled out behind me. A simple diamond pendant hangs from my throat, between my breasts. It's uncomfortably different from the black, plaid and fishnet I'm usually adorned in. I look back up to Lucy, anxious for her opinion.
"Well, how do I look? I can't really look for myself..."
Before she can answer, a deep rumble of a voice answers, the tone thick with accent.
"You are beautiful, my daughter." Pyotr, in his penguin suit, bends down to kiss Lucy on the cheek. The Russian towers over me, taking both of my hands in his. I rise up on my toes, as he bends once more, to kiss my forehead. "I could not be more proud to give you away, Madelyn."
I rub at my face, before a bouquet of pink flowers are pressed in my hands. The shades are all different, either matching or accenting my hair. I give a tentative smile, squeezing the flower stems as Lucy pats my shoulder and exits the room. Shortly after, I hear a tune start up from down the hall. Familiar enough, to be heard in every corny romance movie I've ever seen. "Oh. Oh god. Is that...is that our cue? Is it time? Oh god."
Chucking under his breath, Pyotr places my right hand in the crook of his left arm, the height difference almost comical. "Relax, child." he states simply, leading me out of the room. He's tactful enough to ignore my trembling, and the death grip I have on his arm. The music grows louder as we approach a set of intricately carved wooden doors, and when they are pulled open into the night air.
There must be hundreds of faces staring at us. Pale as the moonlight, paler still under the twinkling string lights that are hanging from what looks like every immobile object in the vicinity. The warm air smells of Kindred, of woods, and of fragrant flora. The path cut between the seats is littered with pink petals, and my feet drag nervously as Pyotr leads me through the crowd. I glance back and forth at the familiar faces between steps down the aisle. The Gangrel are packed together to my left: Troy, Munin, Mason, Sutherland, Ylva, Magnus, Siobhan. My brittle smile seems more natural as fanged grins and glowing eyes set on me. I spot other faces dotted among the crowd. Grendel, Franco, Blair, Cyrus, Testament, Rictus. At the far end of one of the rows, a figure stands apart, seemingly unnoticed. His long, black hair is pulled back, exposing dark eyes and Spanish features. Tybalt. I glance up at Pyotr, knowing the Brujah sees him, too. Tybalt's expression is one of pride, and his smile is genuine as he bows his head to me, giving me his blessing. I press my hand to my lips briefly, and ignoring the few perplexed faces, blow a kiss to my dearest, departed friend. He disappears from view, and only now, my attention draws to the altar and people around it that Pyotr and I are quickly approaching.
On one side of the altar, is a surly looking dhampir, clutching a small bouquet. Fate catches my eye, gesturing to the pale pink bridesmaid gown she's wearing, and makes a disgusted face. I grin widely, and she rolls her eyes, quickly returning the grin. At the opposite side is Sailix, looking dapper in a tuxedo. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and winks as I shake my head, snickering quietly. From behind the altar, stands Tommy, adorned in solid black suit and his Roman collar. He smiles, but his hazel eyes meet mine in an almost somber manner. Some of my joy seems to plateau, as I see the unmistakable sign of sorrow and sadness churning in his aura. He clutches a small bible to his chest, and for the first time since meeting him over a decade ago, the priest drops his gaze from my own, staring out into the crowd with the forced smile on his face. I have no time for pity, as my momentum is halted by Pyotr's lack of movement.
I realize we've reached our destination, and feel Pyotr taking my hand and placing it in another. The other hand is soft, and warm, and wholly familiar. I step forward, turning my full attention to the man before me. My love. My Alex. My soon to be husband. He is polished and handsome in his suit, his dark hair smoothed back from his face. We stand there, almost awkwardly, absorbing the situation, the surroundings, and each other. My smile returns, natural and practically ecstatic. He stares at me with a sense of awe, and neither of us are truly attentive as Tommy's voice begins droning on with a speech, and vows we repeat with eyes only for each other. Fate's shadow arms present us with our wedding rings. Alex slips the band around my finger, his voice quiet, but likely heard among supernaturally acute ears. "...you look really cute, tonight."
In a bland, yet purposeful tone, Tommy states:
"If anyone here objects to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
In what seems to be deafening silence, I feel a pull inside of me, as if in my blood, itself. I know that if I take my eyes from Alex, in that moment, I will ruin something wonderful. I hold his hand a little tighter, remembering meeting Alex in Tybalt's neighborhood for the first time. Remembering our sly escape to the roof, during the mini Cam party. Remembering our first kiss. I don't wait for Tommy's conclusion of the ceremony. I lean forward eagerly, pressing my lips to Alex's, wrapping my arms around him and sealing my bond to him for the rest of eternity. The surrounding crowd of our peers hoot and holler, wolf whistling as Alex and I are intertwined in each others arms and lips. Pulling apart, I hear Pyotr clearing his throat purposefully, and I grin as Alex's cheeks turn pink. Holding hands, we pass together through the aisle, absorbed in each other's affection as Kindred around us clap and cheer.
The reception is a blur of music and revelry. My head spins as I'm passed from person to person, spinning and twirling and dancing. Fate requests a Good Charlotte song, and we collapse on each other, cackling madly. Catching a moment alone, I hang back to the edge of the dance floor, surveying the scene. Alex is chatting with Troy and Lumiere, his cheeks flushed, his expression relaxed. The dance floor is still full, and I chuckle to myself as Sailix spills his beer, spreading it across the floor as he shuffles to the music. The song changes to something slow and soulful, and a pair of strong hands turn me and pull me close. I look up at Tommy, unsurprised, as he sways us to the beat. "Was wondering when you would cut in..." He ignores my comment, one hand resting familiarly on my hip, the other at the back of my neck. Despite his calm demeanor, his posture is possessive, even as he expertly glides us across the floor. My brow furrows as I stare up at him. "Are you upset with me, Tommy?"
He strokes his thumb along the back of my neck affectionately, but his response is somewhat curt.
"Of course not, little one." I frown, my expression still displeased. He sighs lightly, and pulls me closer. "I worry for you and the boy. I know how my little girl can be, and I fear that you will quickly derail your storybook ending."
My chance to reply is cut short, as I'm roughly pulled from Tommy's arms. I turn to stare into Alex's angered expression. "Really, Madelyn? At our wedding?" I try to take Alex's hand, but he slaps mine away. "I'm tired of this shit. I'm tired of this bastard sticking himself between us all the time." Tommy stands before us, seemingly unconcerned, even as Alex pulls a Desert Eagle from the inside of his suit coat.
"Alex, no! What the hell are you doing!?" I reach to grab the gun from him, but pull my hand away as he points it at the priest. Tommy raises his hands, palms out in supplication. Before I can act, Alex pulls the trigger, shooting Tommy point blank in the chest. The smell of singed fabric and blood stings my nose, and I cry out as Alex continues to shoot. Tommy falls to the ground, bleeding and burning, and his hazel eyes meet mine as Alex's final shot turns him to ash. I stare at the pile, my hands covering my mouth and my widened eyes filling with tears. Turning to Alex, my voice is high pitched and frantic. "You killed him! How could you...oh god...Tommy." I make a move towards him, but fall back as Alex whips the gun across my jaw, opening a gash on my cheek. Blood pours from the wound, trailing down my neck and spreading a red stain along the bodice of my dress. Holding my hand to my jaw, I stare, incredulous, as he reloads the weapon and points it directly at me. Anger and pain are prominent in his expression, and I can't help but drop my gaze. Sparing a glance to the pile of Tommy's ashes, I spread my arms, offering my chest as a bare and unprotected target. I don't look up, and barely even notice as Alex's bullets tear into me, finally ending the tumultuous excuse of my life.
This is what I've deserved, all along.
As is almost habit by now, I jerk out of the nightmare, my muscles tense and my face sticky with tears. Alex remains asleep, his chest rising and falling as he lightly snores. His body is warm and inviting, but the dream lingers in my subconscious, filling my thoughts with his expression of fury. His raised voice and the angry words his spat at me earlier in the night echoes in my ears. Despite my overwhelming need for comfort, I move away from him, closer to the edge of the futon. Rolling over onto my side, I pull my knees up, hugging them lightly, and wait for my return to sleep and whatever dreams may come.
https://youtu.be/EiR1hmpk-x4
It's supposed to be a happy night, and I'm supposed to be glowy, and excited, and oh fuck I can't mess up my makeup.
A few deep and needless breaths calm me enough to make another effort at my hair. Overwhelming relief fills me, as a familiar scent and a pair of velvet gloved hands come into my view. "Let me help you, dear. Your impatience has gotten the best of you." The Toreador's fingers work deftly in my hair, with a finesse that I could never grasp.
"Thanks, Miss Lucy. I was trying to...y'know. Just trying to do something for myself."
Lucy comes around into my view, hands still in my hair. She smiles, her expression kind. "Of course, but don't you worry about that. It's your big day, and you don't want to miss your big entrance." She finishes with my hair, and gives me a scrupulous once over, adjusting my jewelry, the hem of my dress, wiping at the corner of my eye with her thumb. I watch her inspection until my nerves get the best of me. Glancing down, I barely recognize myself. My body is swathed in white silk and lace, the train of the dress belled out behind me. A simple diamond pendant hangs from my throat, between my breasts. It's uncomfortably different from the black, plaid and fishnet I'm usually adorned in. I look back up to Lucy, anxious for her opinion.
"Well, how do I look? I can't really look for myself..."
Before she can answer, a deep rumble of a voice answers, the tone thick with accent.
"You are beautiful, my daughter." Pyotr, in his penguin suit, bends down to kiss Lucy on the cheek. The Russian towers over me, taking both of my hands in his. I rise up on my toes, as he bends once more, to kiss my forehead. "I could not be more proud to give you away, Madelyn."
I rub at my face, before a bouquet of pink flowers are pressed in my hands. The shades are all different, either matching or accenting my hair. I give a tentative smile, squeezing the flower stems as Lucy pats my shoulder and exits the room. Shortly after, I hear a tune start up from down the hall. Familiar enough, to be heard in every corny romance movie I've ever seen. "Oh. Oh god. Is that...is that our cue? Is it time? Oh god."
Chucking under his breath, Pyotr places my right hand in the crook of his left arm, the height difference almost comical. "Relax, child." he states simply, leading me out of the room. He's tactful enough to ignore my trembling, and the death grip I have on his arm. The music grows louder as we approach a set of intricately carved wooden doors, and when they are pulled open into the night air.
There must be hundreds of faces staring at us. Pale as the moonlight, paler still under the twinkling string lights that are hanging from what looks like every immobile object in the vicinity. The warm air smells of Kindred, of woods, and of fragrant flora. The path cut between the seats is littered with pink petals, and my feet drag nervously as Pyotr leads me through the crowd. I glance back and forth at the familiar faces between steps down the aisle. The Gangrel are packed together to my left: Troy, Munin, Mason, Sutherland, Ylva, Magnus, Siobhan. My brittle smile seems more natural as fanged grins and glowing eyes set on me. I spot other faces dotted among the crowd. Grendel, Franco, Blair, Cyrus, Testament, Rictus. At the far end of one of the rows, a figure stands apart, seemingly unnoticed. His long, black hair is pulled back, exposing dark eyes and Spanish features. Tybalt. I glance up at Pyotr, knowing the Brujah sees him, too. Tybalt's expression is one of pride, and his smile is genuine as he bows his head to me, giving me his blessing. I press my hand to my lips briefly, and ignoring the few perplexed faces, blow a kiss to my dearest, departed friend. He disappears from view, and only now, my attention draws to the altar and people around it that Pyotr and I are quickly approaching.
On one side of the altar, is a surly looking dhampir, clutching a small bouquet. Fate catches my eye, gesturing to the pale pink bridesmaid gown she's wearing, and makes a disgusted face. I grin widely, and she rolls her eyes, quickly returning the grin. At the opposite side is Sailix, looking dapper in a tuxedo. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and winks as I shake my head, snickering quietly. From behind the altar, stands Tommy, adorned in solid black suit and his Roman collar. He smiles, but his hazel eyes meet mine in an almost somber manner. Some of my joy seems to plateau, as I see the unmistakable sign of sorrow and sadness churning in his aura. He clutches a small bible to his chest, and for the first time since meeting him over a decade ago, the priest drops his gaze from my own, staring out into the crowd with the forced smile on his face. I have no time for pity, as my momentum is halted by Pyotr's lack of movement.
I realize we've reached our destination, and feel Pyotr taking my hand and placing it in another. The other hand is soft, and warm, and wholly familiar. I step forward, turning my full attention to the man before me. My love. My Alex. My soon to be husband. He is polished and handsome in his suit, his dark hair smoothed back from his face. We stand there, almost awkwardly, absorbing the situation, the surroundings, and each other. My smile returns, natural and practically ecstatic. He stares at me with a sense of awe, and neither of us are truly attentive as Tommy's voice begins droning on with a speech, and vows we repeat with eyes only for each other. Fate's shadow arms present us with our wedding rings. Alex slips the band around my finger, his voice quiet, but likely heard among supernaturally acute ears. "...you look really cute, tonight."
In a bland, yet purposeful tone, Tommy states:
"If anyone here objects to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
In what seems to be deafening silence, I feel a pull inside of me, as if in my blood, itself. I know that if I take my eyes from Alex, in that moment, I will ruin something wonderful. I hold his hand a little tighter, remembering meeting Alex in Tybalt's neighborhood for the first time. Remembering our sly escape to the roof, during the mini Cam party. Remembering our first kiss. I don't wait for Tommy's conclusion of the ceremony. I lean forward eagerly, pressing my lips to Alex's, wrapping my arms around him and sealing my bond to him for the rest of eternity. The surrounding crowd of our peers hoot and holler, wolf whistling as Alex and I are intertwined in each others arms and lips. Pulling apart, I hear Pyotr clearing his throat purposefully, and I grin as Alex's cheeks turn pink. Holding hands, we pass together through the aisle, absorbed in each other's affection as Kindred around us clap and cheer.
The reception is a blur of music and revelry. My head spins as I'm passed from person to person, spinning and twirling and dancing. Fate requests a Good Charlotte song, and we collapse on each other, cackling madly. Catching a moment alone, I hang back to the edge of the dance floor, surveying the scene. Alex is chatting with Troy and Lumiere, his cheeks flushed, his expression relaxed. The dance floor is still full, and I chuckle to myself as Sailix spills his beer, spreading it across the floor as he shuffles to the music. The song changes to something slow and soulful, and a pair of strong hands turn me and pull me close. I look up at Tommy, unsurprised, as he sways us to the beat. "Was wondering when you would cut in..." He ignores my comment, one hand resting familiarly on my hip, the other at the back of my neck. Despite his calm demeanor, his posture is possessive, even as he expertly glides us across the floor. My brow furrows as I stare up at him. "Are you upset with me, Tommy?"
He strokes his thumb along the back of my neck affectionately, but his response is somewhat curt.
"Of course not, little one." I frown, my expression still displeased. He sighs lightly, and pulls me closer. "I worry for you and the boy. I know how my little girl can be, and I fear that you will quickly derail your storybook ending."
My chance to reply is cut short, as I'm roughly pulled from Tommy's arms. I turn to stare into Alex's angered expression. "Really, Madelyn? At our wedding?" I try to take Alex's hand, but he slaps mine away. "I'm tired of this shit. I'm tired of this bastard sticking himself between us all the time." Tommy stands before us, seemingly unconcerned, even as Alex pulls a Desert Eagle from the inside of his suit coat.
"Alex, no! What the hell are you doing!?" I reach to grab the gun from him, but pull my hand away as he points it at the priest. Tommy raises his hands, palms out in supplication. Before I can act, Alex pulls the trigger, shooting Tommy point blank in the chest. The smell of singed fabric and blood stings my nose, and I cry out as Alex continues to shoot. Tommy falls to the ground, bleeding and burning, and his hazel eyes meet mine as Alex's final shot turns him to ash. I stare at the pile, my hands covering my mouth and my widened eyes filling with tears. Turning to Alex, my voice is high pitched and frantic. "You killed him! How could you...oh god...Tommy." I make a move towards him, but fall back as Alex whips the gun across my jaw, opening a gash on my cheek. Blood pours from the wound, trailing down my neck and spreading a red stain along the bodice of my dress. Holding my hand to my jaw, I stare, incredulous, as he reloads the weapon and points it directly at me. Anger and pain are prominent in his expression, and I can't help but drop my gaze. Sparing a glance to the pile of Tommy's ashes, I spread my arms, offering my chest as a bare and unprotected target. I don't look up, and barely even notice as Alex's bullets tear into me, finally ending the tumultuous excuse of my life.
This is what I've deserved, all along.
As is almost habit by now, I jerk out of the nightmare, my muscles tense and my face sticky with tears. Alex remains asleep, his chest rising and falling as he lightly snores. His body is warm and inviting, but the dream lingers in my subconscious, filling my thoughts with his expression of fury. His raised voice and the angry words his spat at me earlier in the night echoes in my ears. Despite my overwhelming need for comfort, I move away from him, closer to the edge of the futon. Rolling over onto my side, I pull my knees up, hugging them lightly, and wait for my return to sleep and whatever dreams may come.
https://youtu.be/EiR1hmpk-x4
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Losing the battle I've waged on myself. Lock me up and toss the key.
This is hell. I must be in hell.
There's a spring sticking out of the couch, poking into my back, but I lack the energy, ability or desire to adjust my position. The smell of my own blood is cloying, rising from my clothes and body like a tangible mist. Like Pigpen, from the Peanuts comic. I snicker, a diseased and unsettling sound in the silence of the house. There's a pain in my wrist, and I look down at my own hand, digging nails into the still open wounds from earlier. With effort, I pull my hand away and lay it flat on the couch cushion.
Stop procrastinating. Talk to him.Before my cowardice can get the better of me, I reach out to Alex's mind. I know my desperate attempt to keep the tone of my thoughts clear and calm is obvious. "I'm at my house. I didn't know if you'd still want me in yours. You can come here, unless you don't want to."
It's quiet in my head. Too quiet, until Alex's voice echoes in my thoughts. His tone is manic, almost crazed. "Busy. Dealing with shit. Need to work, will contact you later." My lip trembles, as he adds, "Love you."
For awhile, I can't reply. I'm trembling, terrified, wincing as each tremble sends a shock wave of pain through my abused body. I fruitlessly hope the pain doesn't register to Alex as I respond, "I love you."
Alone. I'm going to be alone. My eyes well up and spill over. Blood I can't afford to expend, but it's my fault. My fault that he doesn't want to be with me. My fault that Sailix is a hairsbreadth away from losing it completely. My fault. My fault. Blood is once more leaking down my palm, and I don't bother pulling my fingers from the wound. I need pain. I need to be hurt and punished. I can't feel this any more. Tybalt. Tybalt. Tybalt. I attempt to rise from the couch, but my legs won't support me. Abrading my skin on the threadbare carpet, I crawl into my bedroom. The only room with any semblance of comfort.
But none. What comfort is in solitude? OH GOD HE'S DEAD. Covering my mouth, the sobs that escape my lips are muffled. I reach into my own brain, searching for Tybalt's thoughts, searching for his familiar mental tone and flavor. "Please Tybalt. Please answer me. Please." There's nothing. No reply, same as before. I crawl to my open closet, unable and unwilling to seek refuge anywhere else. I push aside stray clothing and random weapons on the closet floor. My hand touches a small jar. I know what it is without looking. Clear jar, black lid. About a quarter of the way full of dark blue Manic Panic hair dye. I see Tybalt, banished from his city, stowed away in my house in the woods. The blue dye dripping slightly down his forehead. His 'how the hell did I let you talk me into this' look as I slather on more of the dye, manically giggling.
My scream is deafening in the small space. This can't be real. None of it.
I died. I died, and this is hell.
Of course. It all makes sense. I was so stupid, so careless after Mongrel left me. Not brave enough to stay in the sun, I antagonized the Sabbat. Dared them to act. Dared them to come after me. And they did. And they killed me. It took a group of them, but they did it. And since then...
I curl into a ball, my hand still clenched around the jar of dye. It all makes sense. Tommy was the last one to take me in before I died. He was the one who warned me against instigating the Sabbat. Of course I'd believe that he brought me back. Of course I'd believe that I owe him my life. I don't know any better. And being dead...that's why my Sire is so quiet. That's why I let Tommy do these horrible things to me. Someone has to. Someone has to beat the monster out of me. Into me. Whatever. That's why Pyotr is back. I'm so selfish, of course I wouldn't let him be dead. That's why I feel the need to help Sailix. I'd have to think up someone to replace Fate. Let me feel like I'm more than just a burden to people. I need someone just as crazy as me to befriend and take care of. Like Sailix. It all makes sense. That's why I lost Tybalt. My friend, my brother. This is hell, after all. The devil giveth, and the devil taketh away.
My fist comes to my mouth, my teeth biting down on the skin. It brings me the pain I understand. Something in the action is almost pacifying, and the wounded animal cries that filled the closet begin to subside. I want so badly to reach out to Pyotr or Sailix, but fear of the disappointment and disgust in their eyes is enough to dissuade me. I want to call Tommy back. He said he'd be whatever I needed. The nurturing, loving Thomas that holds me and tries so hard to patch up my wounds.
I want my Alex. The cruelest aspect of this hell. It'd be too easy if I loved him and he hurt me. No. I'm used to that. That's old news. Instead, I'm the one to hurt him. To destroy the person I love, over and over and over again. To wear him down until there's nothing left but pain and regret. The look in Alex's eyes when Tommy took my arm and led me away from him is worse than every strike, slice, burn or beating that I've felt.
This is the hell that I've made. I pull my mangled hand from my mouth and wipe and my lips. I need to see him. I need to at least see Alex. I need to know that he's... Another wail of pain. I know he's not OK. He's not, and it's because of me. I could crawl on my hands and knees back to him. Maybe I'd beat the dawn, maybe I wouldn't. No. No. I can see him. I can go. I'm safe in here. He wouldn't even have to know.
Without a second thought, I'm looking down at my torpid body. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was a corpse. Beaten and bloodied. Inhuman. Just some forgotten trash heaped into an abandoned old house. After a moment, my consciousness moves through the house and out into the woods, heading towards Crownsville.
Selfish.
https://youtu.be/_BiweD9b0tc
There's a spring sticking out of the couch, poking into my back, but I lack the energy, ability or desire to adjust my position. The smell of my own blood is cloying, rising from my clothes and body like a tangible mist. Like Pigpen, from the Peanuts comic. I snicker, a diseased and unsettling sound in the silence of the house. There's a pain in my wrist, and I look down at my own hand, digging nails into the still open wounds from earlier. With effort, I pull my hand away and lay it flat on the couch cushion.
Stop procrastinating. Talk to him.Before my cowardice can get the better of me, I reach out to Alex's mind. I know my desperate attempt to keep the tone of my thoughts clear and calm is obvious. "I'm at my house. I didn't know if you'd still want me in yours. You can come here, unless you don't want to."
It's quiet in my head. Too quiet, until Alex's voice echoes in my thoughts. His tone is manic, almost crazed. "Busy. Dealing with shit. Need to work, will contact you later." My lip trembles, as he adds, "Love you."
For awhile, I can't reply. I'm trembling, terrified, wincing as each tremble sends a shock wave of pain through my abused body. I fruitlessly hope the pain doesn't register to Alex as I respond, "I love you."
Alone. I'm going to be alone. My eyes well up and spill over. Blood I can't afford to expend, but it's my fault. My fault that he doesn't want to be with me. My fault that Sailix is a hairsbreadth away from losing it completely. My fault. My fault. Blood is once more leaking down my palm, and I don't bother pulling my fingers from the wound. I need pain. I need to be hurt and punished. I can't feel this any more. Tybalt. Tybalt. Tybalt. I attempt to rise from the couch, but my legs won't support me. Abrading my skin on the threadbare carpet, I crawl into my bedroom. The only room with any semblance of comfort.
But none. What comfort is in solitude? OH GOD HE'S DEAD. Covering my mouth, the sobs that escape my lips are muffled. I reach into my own brain, searching for Tybalt's thoughts, searching for his familiar mental tone and flavor. "Please Tybalt. Please answer me. Please." There's nothing. No reply, same as before. I crawl to my open closet, unable and unwilling to seek refuge anywhere else. I push aside stray clothing and random weapons on the closet floor. My hand touches a small jar. I know what it is without looking. Clear jar, black lid. About a quarter of the way full of dark blue Manic Panic hair dye. I see Tybalt, banished from his city, stowed away in my house in the woods. The blue dye dripping slightly down his forehead. His 'how the hell did I let you talk me into this' look as I slather on more of the dye, manically giggling.
My scream is deafening in the small space. This can't be real. None of it.
I died. I died, and this is hell.
Of course. It all makes sense. I was so stupid, so careless after Mongrel left me. Not brave enough to stay in the sun, I antagonized the Sabbat. Dared them to act. Dared them to come after me. And they did. And they killed me. It took a group of them, but they did it. And since then...
I curl into a ball, my hand still clenched around the jar of dye. It all makes sense. Tommy was the last one to take me in before I died. He was the one who warned me against instigating the Sabbat. Of course I'd believe that he brought me back. Of course I'd believe that I owe him my life. I don't know any better. And being dead...that's why my Sire is so quiet. That's why I let Tommy do these horrible things to me. Someone has to. Someone has to beat the monster out of me. Into me. Whatever. That's why Pyotr is back. I'm so selfish, of course I wouldn't let him be dead. That's why I feel the need to help Sailix. I'd have to think up someone to replace Fate. Let me feel like I'm more than just a burden to people. I need someone just as crazy as me to befriend and take care of. Like Sailix. It all makes sense. That's why I lost Tybalt. My friend, my brother. This is hell, after all. The devil giveth, and the devil taketh away.
My fist comes to my mouth, my teeth biting down on the skin. It brings me the pain I understand. Something in the action is almost pacifying, and the wounded animal cries that filled the closet begin to subside. I want so badly to reach out to Pyotr or Sailix, but fear of the disappointment and disgust in their eyes is enough to dissuade me. I want to call Tommy back. He said he'd be whatever I needed. The nurturing, loving Thomas that holds me and tries so hard to patch up my wounds.
I want my Alex. The cruelest aspect of this hell. It'd be too easy if I loved him and he hurt me. No. I'm used to that. That's old news. Instead, I'm the one to hurt him. To destroy the person I love, over and over and over again. To wear him down until there's nothing left but pain and regret. The look in Alex's eyes when Tommy took my arm and led me away from him is worse than every strike, slice, burn or beating that I've felt.
This is the hell that I've made. I pull my mangled hand from my mouth and wipe and my lips. I need to see him. I need to at least see Alex. I need to know that he's... Another wail of pain. I know he's not OK. He's not, and it's because of me. I could crawl on my hands and knees back to him. Maybe I'd beat the dawn, maybe I wouldn't. No. No. I can see him. I can go. I'm safe in here. He wouldn't even have to know.
Without a second thought, I'm looking down at my torpid body. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was a corpse. Beaten and bloodied. Inhuman. Just some forgotten trash heaped into an abandoned old house. After a moment, my consciousness moves through the house and out into the woods, heading towards Crownsville.
Selfish.
https://youtu.be/_BiweD9b0tc
Thursday, July 14, 2016
I don't know what isn't real. But it's easy to beat me.
"I have a present for you, little one."
I turn towards the sound of Tommy's voice, but I'm halted by his firm grip on my shoulders. His hands move and come into my view, holding a strip of silky fabric between them. He draws the fabric over my eyes, tying the ends behind my head and blocking off my sight. My lips part to question him, but before I can speak, his hand lands on my buttocks in a sharp smack. I close my mouth with a quiet whimper.
"No defiance tonight, little one. Not when I've been kind enough to grant you a gift."
I press my lips together, and move forward with his prompting. Wherever he's leading me to is painfully quiet. I breathe in through my nose, picking up the odor of his cologne and a familiar scent that causes my stomach to drop.
I close my eyes under the blindfold, even as I feel Tommy's fingers loosen the knot and draw the fabric away from my face. A voice calls my name from somewhere in front of me, and I pry my eyelids apart to settle my gaze on Alex. He's reclining on the bed, covers pulled to his waist, chest bare. Tommy strokes my hair from behind me, preening me like a dog. I know my expression portrays fear. Terror, even, at the proximity of both of my lovers. I flinch as Tommy's hand clamps on the crook of my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. "I want you to show him what I've taught you. Show the boy what you've learned from our lessons."
I look to Alex, bewildered by the calm, natural smile on his face. My body yearns to go to him, to protect him, to hide myself in his arms. His voice is low and soothing as he meets my eyes and says, "It's ok, Madelyn. I love you, I trust you. I want you to share this with me."
Alex's words only bring the slightest sense of comfort, lessened when Tommy's voice comes from behind me, his tone commanding. "Strip." I drop my gaze to the floor, shoulders sagging. Something sharp presses into my back, not quite hard enough to draw blood. In a venomous whisper, Tommy once more speaks in my ear. "Do as I say, or I will tear the boy to shreds while you watch." His hands shove me forward, roughly. Still unable to bring my gaze from my feet, I lift the hem of my shirt, drawing it over my torso and breasts, pulling it over my head and tossing the garment onto the floor. I swipe my mussed hair from my face, and follow suit with removing my shorts. Before my hesitation even fully manifests, Tommy's words reach my ears. "All of it, little one." My underwear joins the shorts, and I'm almost proud at the minimal trembling in my hands as I unclasp and remove my bra. I risk a glance at the man behind me and the one before me, knowing a normal woman would bask in such attention. Instead, I avert my gaze, shamed by my nudity. In my peripheral vision, I see Alex beckon me forward.
From behind me, Tommy commands, "Go to him. Show him the fruits of our labor."
From ahead of me, Alex implores, "Please?"
I approach the bed, my gaze traveling upwards at the tented fabric covering Alex's waist. Gripping the bottom of the blanket, I pull it towards me, exposing his naked flesh as I ball the blanket up and shove it to the side. Staring into his eyes, I climb onto the bed at his feet and crawl over his body, my bare skin grazing his in a way that makes me shiver. I settle myself onto his hips, smiling tentatively as his warms hands grasp my waist. The heat of his body warms mine, and I find myself moving against him, surprised at the dim pleasure I feel. Bending down to kiss him, I whisper, "I love you, Alex."
His hands grasp tighter, as he adjusts himself under me. I feel his erection press against me, and his strained hesitation as he bites lightly at my lower lip. "I want you, Madelyn. Can...can I have you?" There is true and honest desire as I speak his name, taking one of his hands off my waist and kissing each finger tip. He enters me, and I moan slightly, my body leaning over as I rock my hips against his. Alex's hand moves to the back of my head, his fingers curling in my hair as his kisses trail from my lips, to my jaw, to the tender skin at the curve of my neck. I shiver, closing my eyes, feeling every touch throughout my body.
This must be what Tommy was trying to teach me...
As if summoned by my thoughts, the smell of Tommy's cologne grows stronger. My eyes open, as the bed creaks with the added weight of another body. I whimper slightly, and Alex strokes his hand against my face, his expression concerned. "Did I hurt you?"
I stutter a indiscernible reply, as Tommy chuckles from behind me. The priest's warm body draws close to mine, his skin now bare. His hands come around my chest, gripping tightly, painfully at my breasts. Alex's hips still move against mine, as I feel Tommy's erection pressed close between my buttocks. "Will you let us both fuck you, little one? Will you indulge in both your lovers and allow yourself to be pleasured?"
I'm denied the option to refuse, as Tommy forces himself into my anus. Skewered between both men, trapped between their bodies, I begin to panic. Tommy's nails dig into my flesh, as he grips tighter. His fangs graze the bare skin of my shoulder as he moans his pleasure. From underneath me, Alex pulls me into a soft kiss. Even as his lips caress mine, frightened tears sneak from my eyes. A red tinged drop falls onto his cheek, and he pulls back, wiping at his face. My voice is mewling, begging almost as I repeat, "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry."
He opens his mouth to reply, and with a hard thrust of his hips, Tommy reaches past me. Something glints in his hand, and in an instant, Alex's blood splashes onto me. His throat is a wide gash from ear to ear and I struggle to cover the wound as Tommy continues his assault on my body, tossing the bloody knife over the side of the bed. "You did this, little one. Remember, this is your fault. The moment allowed him to love you, you doomed him to this fate."
Alex's hands fall from my body, and I stare into his eyes, failing to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "No, Alex please! Please don't leave me! Please, I'm sorry..stay with me. Stay with me!"
All animation drains from his face, and I shriek as his body dissolves into ash under me. I struggle to escape the bed, but Tommy grabs at me, forcing my face into the mattress as he violates me. I choke and sputter as Alex's remains grind against my skin. My eyes burn with tears and ash. Tommy's hand twist into my hair, as he pounds into me without reprieve.
"This is your fault. Remember this is your fault. This is your fault."
Tommy's words force themselves into my ears as his body does. His voice changes. Sounding like Alex. Sounding like my Sire. Sounding like me.
~~~~~~~
I feel a sharp snap and struggle to keep my pained cry silent. Pulling the side of my hand from between my clenched fangs, I stare uncomprehending at the blood that trickles from the wounds on my battered extremity. I breathe in, forcing the clean, clear air through my lungs. Sitting up slightly, I turn my head, seeing Alex safe and tangled in his blankets. Fractionally comforted by his presence, I peel one of my socks from my foot and tie it around my bleeding hand. Moving to prop myself against the wall, I keep my eyes on Alex. He rolls over, his head coming to rest against my thigh. I place my hand on his shoulder, my bitten hand still throbbing with pain as I wait out the rest of the day.
https://youtu.be/xXXL8PADCDQ
I turn towards the sound of Tommy's voice, but I'm halted by his firm grip on my shoulders. His hands move and come into my view, holding a strip of silky fabric between them. He draws the fabric over my eyes, tying the ends behind my head and blocking off my sight. My lips part to question him, but before I can speak, his hand lands on my buttocks in a sharp smack. I close my mouth with a quiet whimper.
"No defiance tonight, little one. Not when I've been kind enough to grant you a gift."
I press my lips together, and move forward with his prompting. Wherever he's leading me to is painfully quiet. I breathe in through my nose, picking up the odor of his cologne and a familiar scent that causes my stomach to drop.
I close my eyes under the blindfold, even as I feel Tommy's fingers loosen the knot and draw the fabric away from my face. A voice calls my name from somewhere in front of me, and I pry my eyelids apart to settle my gaze on Alex. He's reclining on the bed, covers pulled to his waist, chest bare. Tommy strokes my hair from behind me, preening me like a dog. I know my expression portrays fear. Terror, even, at the proximity of both of my lovers. I flinch as Tommy's hand clamps on the crook of my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. "I want you to show him what I've taught you. Show the boy what you've learned from our lessons."
I look to Alex, bewildered by the calm, natural smile on his face. My body yearns to go to him, to protect him, to hide myself in his arms. His voice is low and soothing as he meets my eyes and says, "It's ok, Madelyn. I love you, I trust you. I want you to share this with me."
Alex's words only bring the slightest sense of comfort, lessened when Tommy's voice comes from behind me, his tone commanding. "Strip." I drop my gaze to the floor, shoulders sagging. Something sharp presses into my back, not quite hard enough to draw blood. In a venomous whisper, Tommy once more speaks in my ear. "Do as I say, or I will tear the boy to shreds while you watch." His hands shove me forward, roughly. Still unable to bring my gaze from my feet, I lift the hem of my shirt, drawing it over my torso and breasts, pulling it over my head and tossing the garment onto the floor. I swipe my mussed hair from my face, and follow suit with removing my shorts. Before my hesitation even fully manifests, Tommy's words reach my ears. "All of it, little one." My underwear joins the shorts, and I'm almost proud at the minimal trembling in my hands as I unclasp and remove my bra. I risk a glance at the man behind me and the one before me, knowing a normal woman would bask in such attention. Instead, I avert my gaze, shamed by my nudity. In my peripheral vision, I see Alex beckon me forward.
From behind me, Tommy commands, "Go to him. Show him the fruits of our labor."
From ahead of me, Alex implores, "Please?"
I approach the bed, my gaze traveling upwards at the tented fabric covering Alex's waist. Gripping the bottom of the blanket, I pull it towards me, exposing his naked flesh as I ball the blanket up and shove it to the side. Staring into his eyes, I climb onto the bed at his feet and crawl over his body, my bare skin grazing his in a way that makes me shiver. I settle myself onto his hips, smiling tentatively as his warms hands grasp my waist. The heat of his body warms mine, and I find myself moving against him, surprised at the dim pleasure I feel. Bending down to kiss him, I whisper, "I love you, Alex."
His hands grasp tighter, as he adjusts himself under me. I feel his erection press against me, and his strained hesitation as he bites lightly at my lower lip. "I want you, Madelyn. Can...can I have you?" There is true and honest desire as I speak his name, taking one of his hands off my waist and kissing each finger tip. He enters me, and I moan slightly, my body leaning over as I rock my hips against his. Alex's hand moves to the back of my head, his fingers curling in my hair as his kisses trail from my lips, to my jaw, to the tender skin at the curve of my neck. I shiver, closing my eyes, feeling every touch throughout my body.
This must be what Tommy was trying to teach me...
As if summoned by my thoughts, the smell of Tommy's cologne grows stronger. My eyes open, as the bed creaks with the added weight of another body. I whimper slightly, and Alex strokes his hand against my face, his expression concerned. "Did I hurt you?"
I stutter a indiscernible reply, as Tommy chuckles from behind me. The priest's warm body draws close to mine, his skin now bare. His hands come around my chest, gripping tightly, painfully at my breasts. Alex's hips still move against mine, as I feel Tommy's erection pressed close between my buttocks. "Will you let us both fuck you, little one? Will you indulge in both your lovers and allow yourself to be pleasured?"
I'm denied the option to refuse, as Tommy forces himself into my anus. Skewered between both men, trapped between their bodies, I begin to panic. Tommy's nails dig into my flesh, as he grips tighter. His fangs graze the bare skin of my shoulder as he moans his pleasure. From underneath me, Alex pulls me into a soft kiss. Even as his lips caress mine, frightened tears sneak from my eyes. A red tinged drop falls onto his cheek, and he pulls back, wiping at his face. My voice is mewling, begging almost as I repeat, "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry."
He opens his mouth to reply, and with a hard thrust of his hips, Tommy reaches past me. Something glints in his hand, and in an instant, Alex's blood splashes onto me. His throat is a wide gash from ear to ear and I struggle to cover the wound as Tommy continues his assault on my body, tossing the bloody knife over the side of the bed. "You did this, little one. Remember, this is your fault. The moment allowed him to love you, you doomed him to this fate."
Alex's hands fall from my body, and I stare into his eyes, failing to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "No, Alex please! Please don't leave me! Please, I'm sorry..stay with me. Stay with me!"
All animation drains from his face, and I shriek as his body dissolves into ash under me. I struggle to escape the bed, but Tommy grabs at me, forcing my face into the mattress as he violates me. I choke and sputter as Alex's remains grind against my skin. My eyes burn with tears and ash. Tommy's hand twist into my hair, as he pounds into me without reprieve.
"This is your fault. Remember this is your fault. This is your fault."
Tommy's words force themselves into my ears as his body does. His voice changes. Sounding like Alex. Sounding like my Sire. Sounding like me.
~~~~~~~
I feel a sharp snap and struggle to keep my pained cry silent. Pulling the side of my hand from between my clenched fangs, I stare uncomprehending at the blood that trickles from the wounds on my battered extremity. I breathe in, forcing the clean, clear air through my lungs. Sitting up slightly, I turn my head, seeing Alex safe and tangled in his blankets. Fractionally comforted by his presence, I peel one of my socks from my foot and tie it around my bleeding hand. Moving to prop myself against the wall, I keep my eyes on Alex. He rolls over, his head coming to rest against my thigh. I place my hand on his shoulder, my bitten hand still throbbing with pain as I wait out the rest of the day.
https://youtu.be/xXXL8PADCDQ
Monday, July 11, 2016
I'm dead, I see things clearly. I confess, I feel this pain.
I pull the comforters around my naked body, drawing the fabric to my face to breathe in Alex's scent. To breathe in both our scents, intermingled. Looking around the darkened room, I smile when I hear a small mumble come from behind me. The bed creaks as Alex rolls over in his sleep. His body cuddles up to mine under the covers, his chest to my back, his arm over mine. I tense slightly as his hand rests against my bare breast. Part of me is waiting for his fingers to clench down in a tight pinch, waiting for his nails to dig into the soft flesh and draw blood. But, no. Not my Alex. I relax, trying to keep still enough to not disturb him. The walls are peppered with Star Wars memorabilia and anime posters. Everything in the room is like a small glimpse into Alex's personality. My smile wilts slightly as I spot the long formal dress and ridiculously bourgeois undergarments lying in a wrinkled pile on his carpet. I can smell them from my spot on the bed. Soap and tulips and Tommy's cologne. I curl closer against Alex, but there's a pang in my chest as I do so. The priest has crept into my thoughts and drawn a cold, intangible shade over my bliss.
I carefully extract myself from Alex's embrace, gently kissing his hand as I place it on the mattress. Suddenly over aware of my nudity, I pick up one of Alex's shirts and pull it over my head and body, before quietly creeping from the bedroom. I pick up the small pile of wet and bloody paper towels, and with a moment of searching, find the trash can and drop them in. The strangely sweet smell of Alex's blood tickles my nostrils as I pace the kitchen.
He still hasn't told me why he went with Rook.
No. That's not true. He told me why, just not what he found out. My brow furrows, and I rub at my forehead, smoothing the skin there. Again, my thoughts steal to Tommy, alone in his church. My hands move to rub at my eyes, remember his hazel ones brimming with tears. The bouquet of flowers that I hastily hid before Alex picked me up.
Why does he do this to me?
The physical abuse is one thing. I can handle that. I -have- handled that. But the way he speaks to me, when he speaks to me like I'm equal to him. Doesn't he realize? He doesn't need to tell me he loves me. Doesn't need to say that he depends on me. I'll keep coming back. I can't not. I'm so weak. So dependent on anyone who will give me what I've deluded myself into thinking I need.
But why? Why do I need Tommy? Alex accepts me for who I am. For what I am. He loves me. He makes me smile.
I drop my eyes, watching my feet as I pace.
Why can't I just be happy? Am I not allowed?
The answer lingers in my thoughts and I stop my momentum.
I do deserve to be happy. I'm not a monster because I want to be, I'm a monster because I have to be. Every horrible thing I've done, I did it because I was hand crafted into beast. Over a year. I spent over a year in that bomb shelter. I was good, and pure, and kind. My maker cut that out of me. Burned it and beat it out of me.
My hand creeps under the collar of Alex's shirt, unconsciously rubbing at the scars on my shoulders. The scars that he lovingly caressed. Because he loves me, despite of everything. I am allowed to be happy. I can be happy. I -am- happy.
Then why aren't you asleep in your dead lover's arms?
Small drops of red splatter onto the linoleum floor, and I rub the crimson stains away with the toe of my sock. My body smells of Alex. It smells of Tommy. It smells of deep rooted shame and humiliation, like a misbehaving dog awaiting correction. I leave the kitchen, traveling back to the bedroom with the care of a stranger in an unknown house. My eyelids droop as I reenter the room, closing the door behind me. Alex is still in the same position, his arm and hand reaching out for his missing lover. Peeling his shirt from my back, I crawl back into the bed, facing him, pressing close against his cool skin. I kiss his bare chest, murmuring his name before drifting into unconsciousness.
https://youtu.be/bkcqyKaIwjo
I carefully extract myself from Alex's embrace, gently kissing his hand as I place it on the mattress. Suddenly over aware of my nudity, I pick up one of Alex's shirts and pull it over my head and body, before quietly creeping from the bedroom. I pick up the small pile of wet and bloody paper towels, and with a moment of searching, find the trash can and drop them in. The strangely sweet smell of Alex's blood tickles my nostrils as I pace the kitchen.
He still hasn't told me why he went with Rook.
No. That's not true. He told me why, just not what he found out. My brow furrows, and I rub at my forehead, smoothing the skin there. Again, my thoughts steal to Tommy, alone in his church. My hands move to rub at my eyes, remember his hazel ones brimming with tears. The bouquet of flowers that I hastily hid before Alex picked me up.
Why does he do this to me?
The physical abuse is one thing. I can handle that. I -have- handled that. But the way he speaks to me, when he speaks to me like I'm equal to him. Doesn't he realize? He doesn't need to tell me he loves me. Doesn't need to say that he depends on me. I'll keep coming back. I can't not. I'm so weak. So dependent on anyone who will give me what I've deluded myself into thinking I need.
But why? Why do I need Tommy? Alex accepts me for who I am. For what I am. He loves me. He makes me smile.
I drop my eyes, watching my feet as I pace.
Why can't I just be happy? Am I not allowed?
The answer lingers in my thoughts and I stop my momentum.
I do deserve to be happy. I'm not a monster because I want to be, I'm a monster because I have to be. Every horrible thing I've done, I did it because I was hand crafted into beast. Over a year. I spent over a year in that bomb shelter. I was good, and pure, and kind. My maker cut that out of me. Burned it and beat it out of me.
My hand creeps under the collar of Alex's shirt, unconsciously rubbing at the scars on my shoulders. The scars that he lovingly caressed. Because he loves me, despite of everything. I am allowed to be happy. I can be happy. I -am- happy.
Then why aren't you asleep in your dead lover's arms?
Small drops of red splatter onto the linoleum floor, and I rub the crimson stains away with the toe of my sock. My body smells of Alex. It smells of Tommy. It smells of deep rooted shame and humiliation, like a misbehaving dog awaiting correction. I leave the kitchen, traveling back to the bedroom with the care of a stranger in an unknown house. My eyelids droop as I reenter the room, closing the door behind me. Alex is still in the same position, his arm and hand reaching out for his missing lover. Peeling his shirt from my back, I crawl back into the bed, facing him, pressing close against his cool skin. I kiss his bare chest, murmuring his name before drifting into unconsciousness.
https://youtu.be/bkcqyKaIwjo
Sunday, July 10, 2016
I pulled you closer, tighter. Cause I knew you'd disappear.
It's about an hour after sundown, and I'm once more outside of St. Leo's in Little Italy. Brow furrowed, rolling my cell nervously between my hands, I stare up at the church. Light radiates from the stained glass windows, but no cars are parked in the gated lot. I give my cell one last squeeze, before pushing it down into the top of my boot. Climbing the stairs, I breathe in the almost oppressively strong scent of floor wax. The faint sound of music, and some sort of rhythmic scratching comes from the perimeter of the door. I grip the door handle, stroking my thumb over the cool metal before pulling the door open and stepping within the church.
I blink a few times, confused. The room is clear, the pews pushed to the side walls and the wooden floor is shining with wax. The Bee Gees croon Tragedy from large speakers on the altar. The strange scraping sound grows louder as Tommy glides out from the rear of the church on a pair of quad skates. My mouth drops open in shock, the distress and guilt melting away as I set eyes on this almost delightful sight. Covering my smile with one hand, I make my way to Tommy as he waves me over. He rolls up to meet me, kissing my cheek with cold lips as he passes. I drop my hand, wide eyed and smiling at Tommy. "I didn't know that you could skate."
Tommy spins to a stop, his wheels scraping against the floor. "I didn't know you were coming, or else I would have cleaned."
My smile falters a bit. "That's...you don't have to worry about stuff like that. I didn't mean to impose, or anything."
Tommy offers his own smile. "You're not imposing, my little love. Take a seat in the lounge, I'll be by in a moment."
"OK." Remembering why I came here, my gleeful expression dissipates. I blink a few times before heading towards the lounge as Tommy directed. The sound of wheels rolling across wood continues for a few minutes after I perch on a small love seat.
The sound stops, and Tommy enters the lounge in his socks, retrieving his loafers from under a chair. He places the shoes in my lap, before taking a seat next to me. "Untie these for me, little one." I begin picking the knots apart, loosening the laces as Tommy sets his right foot against my thigh. Without looking at him, I put the shoes to the side and slightly push his pant leg up to adjust his sock. Retrieving the right shoe, I slide it onto his foot, straightening the tongue and tying the laces snug against the top of his foot. Tommy, with an expression of pride and comfort on his countenance, replaces his right foot with the left. "Thank you, little one." I repeat the process, smoothing his pant leg down and meeting his eyes. His gaze is one of compassion and amusement as he retrieves his foot.
Rising to his feet, he snaps his fingers. "Come, little one. We have a trip to take."
My hand sneaks to my pocket, clenching obsessively around my cell phone. "A trip?"
"Yes, my dear. First, we need to get you changed into your traveling clothes. Come."
I hesitate, leaning forward slightly in my seat."Where are we going?" I fail to hide the worry in my tone.
"Come." Tommy repeats, reaching into his inner-coat pocket for a disc of dry cologne. "I will give you your medicine when we get back home."
I take my hand from my pocket, folding both of them into my lap. I unconsciously cringe from the flippancy in my voice. "Would it kill you to just answer a question?"
Tommy stares down at me, as if I were a vaguely interesting item or creature. Casually, he presses the glass pot of cologne hard against my forehead. I flinch, pulling my head away and dropping my eyes. He begins to walk away, his tone bland. "Come," he repeats.
I stand and follow him with dragging feet, ashamed of myself. Tommy whistles to himself as he pulls a bag from under the altar. I watch him, speaking more to myself than to Tommy. "...I can't be alone anymore."
He ignores my statement and motions towards the altar. "I believe you remember the moves to the dance, little one." Tired, weak and frightened, I silently beg Tommy with my eyes. He walks around me, smacking my behind hard enough to make me stumble. My hands move to remove my clothing, my eyes dropping to the ground. "No!" He smacks me again. "Bad!" His hand meets its mark a third time before he continues, "You will get up on the altar and I will remove your clothing. I will then dress you, if you are good enough to deserve clothing. Then we will go out."
"I'm sorry, Tommy.." I step away from him, and lifting myself onto the altar.
"It's alright, little one." He states, placing the bag on the ground.
After stretching, popping his joints and cracking his back, Tommy begins untying my boots. "I know that you don't know any better. We'll be working on that later tonight."I chew my lip, my hand stealing to the pocket in my skirt once more. "It's been a rough week." I reply, tentatively.
"I'm sorry, little one. You're alright now, my dear." His tone is paternal as he pulls the boot off my foot. He removes my other boot and looks to my hand as I remove the phone from my pocket, squeezing it compulsively. "Does my little one have a bauble?"
I open my hand, showing him the small, outdated flip phone. "I...I have to.." I look to the device and whisper, "Alex is away and I need to be able to.."
He reaches for the bottom of my shirt. "I don't think your new clothes have pockets."
I chew the inside of my cheek and meet Tommy's eyes. "Could you hold it for me? Please?" My voice is pleading and appeasing. "Please, sir?"
"Yes, little one." He holds his hand out for the phone, the other hand still gripping the bottom of my shirt. I place the phone into his hand and press a soft kiss on his mouth. Tommy smiles, "Arms up, little one." I comply immediately, raising my arms, my eyes following his movements as he tucks the phone into his suit pocket. I don't move or flinch as he pulls my shirt up and off my body. The neck of the shirt musses my hair, but I keep my arms up, eager to please. Tommy gives me a look of approval. "Very good girl." His finger presses against my stomach, tracing down to the hem of my skirt. "You can place your arms down, Madelyn."
I lower my arms and sweep my hair from my face. "Thank you, sir."
Tommy's eyes are on my bra as he comments, "I'm glad that you're preserving your modesty." His hands move to unzip my skirt. "Lift yourself, unless you don't know if you can, little one." I press my palms to the altar, lifting myself slightly as he pulls my skirt and underwear to my ankles. "Very good, my little dear."
I set myself back down, speaking in a quiet tone. "Tommy?"
He shushes me, directing me to turn as he pulls the garments from my ankles. Again, I comply, and he unclasps my bra, pulling it off my shoulders. I say his name again, my eyes on my feet. He places a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. "Yes, little one?"
"You...you love me?"
He tosses the bra to the side. "I do, my little dear."
My eyes are wide as I meet his gaze. "And...you won't ever leave me?" My lip trembles slightly.
Tommy's expression becomes one of pity and worry. "I never have, little one. I never will."
I swallow, hard in my throat, dropping my head so my face is obscured. "He said he'd come back. He said he'd be back the next night and it's now and I've been alone this whole time..."
Tommy reaches into his coat pocket briefly, before picking me up to his chest, wrapping my legs around his waist. "I'm here, little one. You're never alone."
Noticing his hand, my expression grows panicked. I cling to him, near tears. "Tommy...what did you? Please don't. I have to be able to know he's alright.."
Tommy makes a shushing sound, subtly pressing his groin against me. "It's still on, little one. I won't let you be alone."
I hold tightly to him, resting my head on his shoulder. My mouth brushes Tommy's neck as I whisper, "Do you promise?"
"I do, little one." He holds me, gently grasping my thighs with his hands, keeping me flush against him. "I don't like lying to my little girl."
"Not liking something, and not doing something, are two different things." I kiss his neck, gently. "I trust you." I fear my voice betrays my disbelief in my own words, but Tommy doesn't comment.
Tommy lightly drops me back on the altar, then retrieves the phone from his pocket. He places it next to my bare thighs, a small light proving it's active status. "Are you ready for our trip, little one?"
I glance at the device, pleased, before taking note of my nudity. "Are you going to dress me, first?"
Tommy pulls the bag up, setting it on the altar next to me. "Not, yet. Once again, I find myself needing to bathe you and otherwise alter your state of grooming." He chuckles, lightly placing his hand between my legs. "Will my little girl let me bathe her?"
I drop my eyes, shamed. "If...if you feel like I need to be more presentable." My hand rises to twist a hank of my hair between my fingers.
Tommy replies, in a reassuring tone, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, little one. You couldn't have know that I needed you clean for tonight." He places his arm under my knees, and the other arm behind me. "Are you ready?"
I drop my hand from my hair and reply, "Yes, sir."
Easily picking me up, Tommy carries me into his quarters, then into the restroom. He immediately lays me down into the cold porcelain of the tub. I look up at him warily, as he takes off his coat, his tie, and his shirt. Then, he turns on the hot water. "Would you like me to shave you, or does my little girl know how?"
I pull my feet up towards my body, hiding my nudity. "Shave? Do you want me to...everything?"
"Just your princess parts, little one." Tommy retrieves his own phone from his pocket.
At his childish reference, my eyebrow quirks up, and similarly, the corner of my mouth. I drop my eyes, a dull and tired humor in my response. "I can do that."
"Good girl." Thomas places his phone up to his face and begins playing music.
I adjust myself in the tub so that I'm kneeling in the steadily rising water. Taking the razor from Tommy, I pointedly avoid his eyes while carefully shaving away the hair in between my legs. Tommy keeps the phone level, then asks, "Are you excited about our night out?" I still don't look at him, simply continuing the process. I quietly finish removing the hair from my pubic area, setting the razor on the lip of the tub and lowering myself so that my bottom rests on my ankles. Tommy turns off the music and sits the phone on the tiled floor. With a gentle hand ,he lathers soap and begins cleaning my back. "We're going out tonight, my Madelyn. There's a place that I think you'll enjoy seeing while I give you your lesson."
I lean forward, still on my knees, allowing him better access to my back. My lips turn up into a small smile as I reminisce on the scout camp we visited a month or so back."Oh? I...I liked the last place you took me."
"I'm glad. I like to think that you don't just deserve pain, little one. You and I are entitled to distractions." Tommy presses hard on my back, and I close my eyes as he massages as he cleans. "I want you clean, Madelyn. I want you to feel safe." He cleans my shoulders and stops the flowing water.
"I feel safe...with you." I open my eyes, turning my face towards him. "Which is probably stupid."
I'm shocked by the change in Tommy's expression. Blood wells up in his eyes, and he turns away from me, wiping the soap suds off onto his slacks. My head cocks to the side, and I reach for him as he turns away. "Tommy, what did I...I'm sorry?"
He shrugs off my touch, visibly trembling as he collects his clothing. "Just finish cleaning yourself, little one. I'm sorry-" he breathes, then continues, "I'll dress you when you're done."
"Wait...no." I stand in the tub, the warm, soapy water dripping off my bare form. "I didn't mean to upset you, please...please don't leave me."
Tommy wipes his face on his tie before turning back to look at me. With a voice still bearing trembles and quakes, he responds with an affirmative sound and returns to the side of the tub. He turns the water back on, turning on the shower head. "Do you mind if I join you, little one?" His chest is covered in small suds, his eyes still bearing streaks of dried blood in their periphery.
"I'd like that," I reply, my tone light and appeasing. He begins to unbutton his slacks and I reach forward to gently place my hands at his waistband. "I can help?" My desperation to please him, to distract him from his tears, is obvious.
"Yes, little one. You may." Tommy slides off the shoes so expertly tied and slips off his socks. I lean forward and pull him closer. My eyes stay on his as I unzip his pants and push them off his hips. He steps from the pants, and into the ankles-deep water. "Thank you, my little dear." He smiles and kisses my forehead. Chewing my lip, I rise on my toes so that my face is close to his. Placing a hand on each side of his jaw, I brush my tongue against Tommy's flesh, tasting the dried tears on his cheeks. He reaches up to turn the shower head towards our faces, attempting a playful smile.
I settle back onto my heels, pushing my wet hair from my face, concerned. "Tommy...sir? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, little one. I just haven't been persuasive enough. I want you to feel at home with me, in your natural state."
"Oh." I drop my gaze, feeling guilty. "It's not your fault. I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of...of lots of things."
Tommy kisses my head again. "The world can be terrifying, my dear. When you're with me, however, you're the only thing worth fearing."
I stand flush against Tommy, my palms flat on his stomach, my forehead resting on his chest. "I'd like to not be afraid of anything."
He kisses the top of head again, breathing deeply, as if to memorize my scent. "The only way would be to accept what you are, Madelyn. Until then, you'll always be afraid of what you could do to those you love."
I turn my gaze up to his face, still pressed closely. "You'll teach me? Teach me to be better?"
A smile pulls the corner of his lip taut. "If you wish, little one. We'll continue tonight, once you're all clean."
I study his face, my own expression slightly concerned. Stepping away from him, I rest my arms at my sides. "Do you want to finish cleaning me, sir?"
Tommy retrieves the bar of soap, lathering it between his palms. Despite his cordial, nearly paternal tone, his cock stiffens against his thigh. "Face away from me, Madelyn. We'll finish this quickly and get you to your lesson."
My eyes fall below his waist, and I attempt to hide my embarrassed expression. Turning away from him, I twist my wet hair into a tail, pulling it over my shoulder to allow Tommy full access to my back and shoulders. Tommy massages me with the soap, starting at my back and moving to my hips. As his hands move down to my backside, he states, "Arms out and legs open, little one." I comply, spreading my feet as far as the confine of the tub allows. He liberally applies soap between my thighs and under my arms, but doesn't spend overlong in either area. His voice commands from behind me, "Rinse." I step closer to the shower head, thoroughly rinsing the front of my body. When I turn to face him, his expression seems etched with hunger. Nervously, I lean my head back, closing my eyes as I rinse the soap from my back and hair. Tommy's voice sounds unsteady as he directs me to exit the tub and begin drying myself. I open my eyes, curiously studying him as the water continues to stream down my body. He repeats the command, almost angrily, and I move past him to exit the tub. Tommy begins to rinse himself briskly, and I chew my lip as I retrieve a towel and pat myself dry. He shuts the water off, and I wrap the towel around myself, watching Tommy as he brushes past me, and into his bedroom.
Fidgeting from foot to foot, I try to keep the concern from my expression as Tommy returns with the bag from the altar. "Are you quite well, little one?"
I hold the towel to my chest, glancing at the bag. "I'm OK..." My tone is timid as I continue, "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
He withdraws a black fabric from the bag, a dress, and lays it on the bed. "No, little one. You've been very good tonight, so your lesson is going to be quite easy."
I smile, tentatively. "Thank you, sir. I..." I pause, "..I want to be good for you."
Thomas returns the smile, then lays out a complete outfit on the bed. "I know you do, little one. I think you'll learn quite a bit tonight. We're going to a funeral."
My brow furrows. "A funeral? Why?"
"To commit a murder. Now get dressed, my little dear. If you delay, your punishment might come, after all."
Taken aback, I reply, "A murder at a funeral? That seems redundant..."
Tommy turns his back to enter his walk-in-closet. From the inside, he projects, "The killer will be at the funeral. They confessed as much to me during their attempts to gain penance from God. Luckily, I don't let others off the hook so easily as the Christian God."
"Does that...bother you? Someone murdering another person?"
"Not typically. I think it was in the way that the person did it. Who they did it to, how they did it. I know that you and I are blights on the world-" his voice is cut off by the sound of a shirt being pulled over his head, "but we should feel free to use our nature to it's best possible purpose." Tommy reemerges from the closet in his black boxer-briefs and a white undershirt. He holds a simple pair of pants and a button up shirt in his hands.
I watch him, intent on both his actions and his words. "What did they do?"
"They bedded their daughter. I say 'they' because the mother knew. She allowed herself to be complicit, to be infected by her husband's monstrous nature." He pauses, "I'm not forgiving when monsters let their nature infect the innocent."
"That's..." I trail off, staring at him without expression. After a moment, I begin to dress myself, finishing my sentence in a quiet afterthought. "...ironic."
Tommy looks like he's about to say something, but the tinny sound of Casino Night Zone comes from within the room. Clothed in just underwear, I drop the dress from my hands. My expression fluctuates between excitement and fear as I glance at Tommy, then the phone. Tommy, smiling at the sudden panic on my face, commands, "Get it, little one." I'm by the table with the phone in my hand in an instant. I press it to my ear, answering almost timidly. "...hello?"
My heart sings as Alex's voice comes through the headset. "Hey! Rook got me back early. I really need to see you, where are you?"
I'm silent for almost a whole minute, trying to absorb the reality of the situation. "Alex? It's really you? Actually you?"
Alex laughs over the phone. "Yeeaahh, who else would it be? Rook told me he was able to give you my message the other night, but said you were worried. I worked something out with him and he got me back early. Actually, I didn't know it was early until I got back, I thought I was late. Time is fucked up over there. Anyways, I got so much shit to tell you. Where are you?" He talks quickly, the sounds in the background hinting to him driving.
"I...what?" I struggle to comprehend his words, looking to Tommy nervously.
Tommy states, loudly enough to be heard, "Go to him, little one. Cherish what time of happiness and reprieve you have on this earth. You're allowed that much."
My voice is small and scared as I reply over the phone. "I'll meet you somewhere. Anywhere."
There's silence on the other end before Alex speaks up "Who was that? he asks, in a rather dead pan, suddenly very un-excited tone. "Was that him? Are you with him right now? Are you at St. Leo's?"
Tommy picks the dress up, smiling and handing it to me as he speaks up, "Your car is on it's way."
Whatever happiness I felt at hearing Alex's voice seems to melt away. I feel a single tear trace a bloody course down my cheek. "I'll...I'll meet you somewhere Alex. Anywhere...please."
Tommy kisses my cheek, "You're welcome, my little dear."
Another brief silence from Alex. "OK...just, tell me where. I want you to leave, right now. I'll come pick you up from anywhere."
My eyes stay on Tommy, as I reply. "The harbor. By the Aquarium."
The sound of an engine revving grows louder. "OK, I'm on 95 now. I'll be there in like, 15 minutes. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"
I shake my head, unseen by Alex. "No. No, I'll be OK. I'll see you soon. I love you, Alex."
He sighs. "OK. Please be safe. I love you too." He waits, as if unwilling to disconnect.
I struggle to find something to say. Some words of comfort to hold him over until I can touch him. Tommy directs a comment to the mouthpiece of the phone, "Drive safely." I quickly flip the phone closed against an angrily whispered hiss of Spanish.
Wiping the stray tear from my cheek, Tommy remarks, "You're allowed to be happy. It's not something we get often, and the time is fleeting, but you deserve it. Keep to him as long as you can before it dies." I clutch the phone in my hand and ignore him as he instructs me to raise my arms. I stand still, head down, shaking slightly. He waits patiently, and after a moment I lift my arms. "I don't blame you, you know." My mouth opens to reply, but nothing comes out. Tommy continues, "Lessons can wait, I just worry about the boy." He kisses my forehead, before clumsily dropping the dress over my head.
"So do I," I whisper, my tone desperate. "I don't want to hurt him."
"I know you don't, little one. I hate seeing you feel such pity and shame. But you love him, and you'll always cause him pain." He finishes pulling the dress over me.
Another tear escapes my eye. "...no.." is the only argument I can manage.
Tommy drops the topic, merely pushing me down onto the bed to place socks on my feet. I offer no resistance, raising my hand to my mouth and biting at my thumb distractedly. After placing socks and shoes on my feet, Tommy looks up to me. "I have to ask something. Will you do me the service of looking at me." I meet his gaze with hesitance. Tommy's eyes are welled, his lips lightly agape, and his forehead glistening. "I promised never to leave you, but would you rather I never let you in? I think you need me, but I depend on you just as much. I could survive, however, if I knew that you were happier, if only for a little while."
My emotions fluctuate, disbelief reigning prominent. I once more open my mouth to respond, but doesn't seem to be able to do so while looking at Tommy. Once more, I drop my eyes to my lap. "I do need you. I can't imagine not...not being able to come to you. To be with you. Is that...selfish? I need you, Tommy." My voice grows quieter, hurt rising over the disbelief. "I'm such an idiot."
"We are what we are, Madelyn, but I'm perfectly aware that you're much smarter than I am. Two fools are we if you are one." He smiles and chuckles through his tears. "I'll stay here for you, and I'll always try to pass what little God has given me to me."
I sigh. "I wish I could..." I shake my head. "...nothing. Nothing."
I slide off the bed, kneeling, face to face with Tommy. Placing my hands at the nape of his neck, I first kiss under each of his eyes, and then his lips. He returns the kiss with a previously unfelt passion. I fight down my tears, pulling away just enough to speak. "Just...love me, Tommy. Please. Tell me you love me?"
Tommy states, with the sound of utter confidence shattered by some sort of loss, "I love you, my little dear."
I shake my head at him. "My name. Call me by my name."
"Madelyn." Tommy states, with some incredulity. "I love you, Madelyn. I love you, Madelyn. Maddie. Little one. My little dear. Everything and anything you could call you."
I climb into his lap, burying my face in his neck and succumbing to tears. My voice is muffled as I responds, "I love you, Tommy."
Tommy places his hands around me, cradling and kissing me. "I'll always be here, Madelyn. No matter which me you need, one of us is always available."
I respond, somewhat lamely, "Promise?"
"Yes." Tommy kisses my head.
"OK. OK...I can. OK." I kiss his jaw, gently.
Tommy rises to his feet, pulling me up with him. "May I give you something, little one?"
"Yes. If you...want to."
He lifts me, then places me on his bed. Leaving me for a moment, he opens his top drawer, retrieving a white tulip from a full bouquet. "This was meant for the funeral, but I believe that you're far more worthy than an empty grave."
My head cants to the side, slightly. "I've never...no one has ever given me a flower before."
"That is a tragedy, my little dear." He places it in my hand. "I would rather give you just this one, a reminder of our solitary and fragile life."
"Thank you..." I take the flower, looking down at it with vaguely sad expression. "Sir."
He turns back, then retrieves the rest of the bouquet and hands it to me. "And because we have many lives to live, take the rest." I take the flowers from him, grazing my fingers against his hand. My lips turn up slightly as I meet Tommy's gaze. His eyes are still lightly welled. "Your car is probably here, or will be soon."
With my free hand, I touch his cheek, under his eye. Grazing the pad of my thumb against his lower eyelashes, I inquire, "Why?"
Obtusely, he replies, "Because you need to leave, little one."
"No, not that." I gently wipe my thumb across his eyelid, pulling her hand back to show him the faint smear of blood. "Why?"
Tommy looks down, but kisses my cheek again. "I'm just worried."
I blink, almost shocked by his response. "About what?"
Tommy smiles, "You and your boy." He stands, suddenly.
"My boy," I repeat, my eyes following his movement as he stands. "He hates you. He wants to kill you."
Tommy moves back to the closet to retrieve his white buttoned shirt. "I'm aware, but that's not a new phenomenon. Interestingly to me, he would likely be a friend of mine were it not for your position in his life."
I watch Tommy dress, almost longingly. "If he tried to do...anything. Would you hurt him?"
Tommy flashes his 'television' grin and replies, "I don't think it will ever come to that, little one. I don't enjoy causing others pain unless it would teach them something. Alex wouldn't understand anything I could possibly say."
I blink, chewing my lip. "I would protect him, if it did. If you tried. You know that, right?" My tone betrays the slightest bit of skepticism.
He buttons his shirt, replying, "I have no interest in hurting him, Madelyn. Between the two of us, I know that I'm the far less likely culprit."
I open my mouth to reply, but instead drop my head, shamefaced.
"Whether or not you hurt him, Madelyn, is up to you. You can bring the boy into our world, but it will have been your fault if he can't help but remain. Our corruption is infectious." Tommy completes the ritualized preparation of his shirt, then adorns slacks.
"I won't." I'm not sure what part of his speech I'm responding to. I stand, stepping towards Tommy and assisting him with zipping and buttoning his pants. Tommy smiles, his eyes looking almost tired. He kisses my head and murmurs his thanks. I smile back up at him. My hands move to his face, gently tracing his features as I try and fail to hide both the shame and adoration in my expression. After a moment, I kiss him. Tommy places a gentle hand on the curve of my back, then another on the back of my head. He returns the kiss, lightly biting at my lip. I gasp quietly, as I break the kiss.
"I love you, Tommy. I'll come back to you." Regret creeps into my tone as I continue, "I'll always come back to you."
"I'll always be here Madelyn, just as I always have been," he replies. He releases me after one more kiss. "It's time for you to go to him ."
"I know." I touch his face again, my own expression pained, before I turn on my heel and walk away.
Tommy nods at me, with his standard gentlemanly courtesy. "Be safe."
I glance at him over my shoulder, just once before leaving the building.
The drive to the harbor is a blur. My heart yearns for Alex, and my hands seems to burn in anticipation of touching him. And yet, part of me is pained at the thought of Tommy alone in his church. Abandoned by me. I wipe at my face regularly, trying to stem the flow of tears before reaching my destination. When the Lincoln stops, I exit the car, barely giving thanks or even notice to the driver. I straighten the lines of my dress and wait for Alex. After a few minutes, his Camry pulls up, parking haphazardly. Alex jumps out of the car, moving quickly over to me and crushing me into his embrace. He hands envelope my face. "I don't care what happened, don't worry, I love you, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you everything, please don't be mad at me. "
I blink, attempting to clear my eyes as I return the embrace. "I'm not mad at you. Don't think I could be, if I tried." His clothes are slightly torn, and he smells of blood.
"I didn't want you to be hurt trying to come over if something were to have happened ..but, it doesn't matter. " The smell of his blood wafts through the air as we stand by the water. "I missed you so much" He leans forward and kisses me, hands at my hips. " You have no idea how much I thought of you, how much I missed you"
I kiss him back, unable to restrain the whimper that comes from my lips as I do so. "I know. I know because I missed you just as much." I choke back a small sob. "I thought you were dead. Until Rook called me, I thought I'd lost you forever."
He holds me, running a hand through my hair. "I didn't know how long I had been gone. It felt like a month sometimes, then hours the next. It was weird." he winces a little as he continues. "I ..shouldn't have kept it from you. I was just so afraid you'd try and follow, and that'd I'd lose you."
"I did follow you. Not physically..but..I saw where you went." I admit this openly, unashamed for the first time this night. "Why did you? Why did you go and...why did you feel like you had to hide it from me?"
"I .. I needed to help you." he'd say quietly, almost shamefully. "Cally was right, I'm not a fighter. Knowing you could have to go fight this guy at Fort McHenry, and risk your life. I had to do something to help you. I had to get as much info as I can to try and keep you safe." he'd fall silent "I was worried you'd try and follow us over, and that I would lose you over there. That's why I didn't tell you."
"Fuck Cally. You...god damn it, Alex." I take his hands, squeezing them between my own.
"You can't...you can't put yourself in danger for me. You can't. If something happened to you...I couldn't survive that."
He clutches my hands. "And you think I could survive if something happened to you? Something I could have prevented? Nah." He rubs the back of my hands with his thumbs "It's over though. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere in the foreseeable future." He smiles at me. "You're stuck with me for awhile longer."
I pull his hand to my face, pressing my cheek into it. "Stuck with...not the right term." My expression grows worried. "So, Rook just gave you information, let you hang out in fairy land for free?"
He smiles, rubbing his fingertips gently against my scalp. "I think he gets lonely and bored over there." He falls silent. "He has a fascination with my existence, if that makes any sense. It's weird...I'll tell you more about it later though." He motions to his pants, which are riddled with holes and blood stains "I really need to get these wrapped up...and ..I want to hold you."
"I can take care of you," I reply, simply. "I can drive. Do you want me to take us back home? Um..." I catch myself, looking embarrassed. "To the Barony?"
"Don't worry, I can drive." He sighs. "No...no. Let's go back to my place. I can't deal with Troy right now. I want to be just with you, no one else." He smiles. "Take you back to my place so I can take my pants off."
"Your place?" I reply, smiling despite my confusion. "Your pants?"
"Yeahhh, I haven't even been there in like...a month. I pay rent and usually just store stuff there, but it's away from the Barony." He motions for me to get in the car, but then pauses. "Oh yeah, any reason for the dress? Is it a reason I don't really want to know?"
I look down at the dress, keeping my eyes averted from Alex's "I don't know. He wanted me to.." I trail off. "I'd like to see where you live."
He nods and moves to his car. "Well, you look cute tonight. " He smiles, moving towards the driver side of his car. "I promise you, it's nothing spectacular." He gets in, and I follow suit, sliding into the passenger seat. Pulling from the parking spot, Alex drives out of the city, heading towards Crownsville. "Sooo, important question." He takes a deep breath. "Any chance I can get you into Pokémon Go?"
I turn my gaze from the window and the scenery, unable to fight the smile growing on my face. Extracting my Motorola Razr from my boot, I unashamedly reply, "I think I might be a little outdated for that.."
"Gurl, you might as well have two tin cans and some string. Please let me get you a phone. Like, I literally have 10 smart phones I can activate tonight. 10. 10 phones for Pokémon." He says, looking towards me with a smile. "Madelyn...I...want. To be the very best, like no one ever was."
"Alex..." I press my forehead into my hand, laughing. "For fucks sake. I love you." Turning my body to face him as much as the seat will allow, giving the center console a dirty look as I continue, "Thank you for coming back to me."
He laughs and glances at the road, looking back towards me. "I, really, really love you too Madelyn. Thank you for being here when I got back. Thank you for being a beacon while I was over there. It was like...being really high over there. You just want to stay and be high, and get even more high, and lose yourself. But, I always had you to ground me, and keep me focused."
I smile. "Didn't ever think I'd mean so much to anyone. It's weird...being a beacon and not a burden." My smile falters a little. "I wouldn't have blamed you, y'know. If you had stayed? I mean...if you were dead...yeah, big problem. But, if you had willingly chosen to stay?" I shrug, attempting to make it a casual gesture. "...wouldn't blame ya."
Alex made a dismissive sound. "I mean it was pretty cool, and like...if I knew you wouldn't get hurt and it wouldn't end horribly, which it would, I'd love to take you there. But...it's like the holodeck in Star Trek, you know shits not real, and after awhile, you start asking 'what's the point'."
"I spend too much time trying to figure out what's real and what's not here..." I trail off, reaching for Alex's hand. "I still don't trust any of this fae, fairy...whatever crap."
He outstretches his arm and takes my hand, using the other to steer. "Yeah, they're really fucking shifty, and they read between the lines of everything you say. They'd make great lawyers." He chuckles softly. "So, get into anything while I was away? Anything fun?"
I furrow my brow at his statement. Which one, I'm not even sure. "What's your definition of fun?"
"Did you cause mayhem anywhere? Anarchy? Take a bubble bath? I dunno." He gives a shrug.
"Well, I considered killing Troy and burning down the Barony. Heh." I give a tentative smile. "Mostly, I missed you, tried not to go crazy, and sniffed a sweatshirt that I stole from your room."
He nods a little, and laughs. "Well, glad you didn't burn down the Barony, because that would mean I'd have a shit load of work to do." He smiles and glances to me. "That's kinda adorable. I debated on taking something if yours over, but my luck, I'd only be able to grab panties, or something, and that would just be awkward. "
"Especially when you found out they were Cookie Monster panties..."
She laughs a little, and then looks embarrassed.
"I'd like to be able to say I acted like a normal girlfriend would act, and just like...patiently waited for you to come back. But...y'know...me."
"I wish we could just be normal girlfriend and boyfriend, not have to deal with any of this bullshit.." He sighs, then grow silent. " Madelyn. If you could, ya know, go back to being human, like, leave all of this, would you?"
I lean my head against the seat, closing my eyes as I contemplate. "No. I couldn't." My words come out as strangely formal as I continue. "I've done too much to just be able to leave this. This is what I am. Just something I have to accept." Pressing my lips together and closing my eyes nervously, I inquire, "Do you wish I was normal?"
He shakes his head "No. The only thing I wish for you is that you are happy, by whatever means necessary." He pulls into an average looking apartment complex, navigating around the parking lot and then parks his car in front of one of the buildings. He shuts the car off. "I just ask because ...well, there was something really nice over there. There was sun over there.."
I rub at my forehead, forcing my tone into casualty. "I saw the sun awhile ago. It sucked."
He raises a brow. "You saw the sun? How? Why?"
Blinking a few times, I reply "At the time, it seemed a better option than being alone." I shake my head a little, attempting to clear the memory from my thoughts. "It also hurt a lot. That was a long time ago. I was stupid."
"Oh. That. Yeah." He nods. "I...I've played that game too. I'm lucky, I guess. I get a few good seconds of warmth before the burning starts." He shakes his head a little and opens his car door. "Enough of that shit, come on, let's go not be depressed for one night.."
"Sorry. Habit." I kiss hand before releasing it and climbing out of the car.
He gets out, and closes the car door, moving around to my side and returning the kiss. He smiles and takes my hand, walking us into the apartment complex. Once inside, we head downstairs, as he fishes around in his back pack for his keys. He removes one and unlocks the second door on the left, opening it into the dark apartment. "I haven't been here for like...a month. I'm sorry, not sorry?" He holds the door open for me, switching on the light. It's a small, carpeted apartment. Boxes and large tubs line the walls, and much like his room at the Barony, electronic parts litter every surface. A large multi screen computer unit dominates one corner of the room, and opposite of it is a workbench with a fancy looking drone on it.
I look around, the corners of my mouth turning up. "Nice bachelor pad. Honestly, I expected more dicks..."
"Hah, never shit where you eat." He says, moving inside and closing and locking the door behind him. "Yeah, uh...I don't have much sitting space, but you can have the computer chair. I really...need to take off my pants." He says, laughing. "In the most non-sexual way possible."
I turn my attention on Alex. "No. You're right, you do." I point to the proffered chair. "You sit. Do you have a first aid kit? Or like, stuff for cleaning and dressing wounds?"
He laughs, "I have some old t-shirts..." He moves over to one of the tubs, and pulling it open and taking out some white undershirts. "I guess, I better do this in the kitchen or something..." He moves to the small kitchen area. Alex slowly takes off his jacket, exposing long scratches running down his arms, crusted with dried blood. " OK sorry, not sorry.." He unbuttons his pants, and slowly pulls them down, wincing as he does so. The scratches on his legs were deeper, and look more irritated.
The smell of his blood fills the air, and I feel a momentary pang of hunger "Sit on the counter," I order, ignoring the hunger as I look at his wounds, concerned. I grab one of the shirts and begin tearing it into medium sized strips."Do you have any rags or paper towels?" I look around his kitchen awkwardly, not wanting to go through his stuff.
He thinks for a minute, and moves to one of the cabinet, opening it and pulling out a dusty, half used roll of paper towels. "Sorry. I mean, it's not like it's going to get infected, right?" He hands it to me before hopping up on the counter. "Don't look at my dick" He comments, giving a small laugh as he tries to adjust his shirt to cover his boxers opening. I smile, almost shyly, as I shake the dust from the roll. Pulling off a handful of the paper towels, I turn on the sink and run them under warm water. Kneeling slightly, my brows furrow together as I concentrate on cleaning the wounds on Alex's legs. From above my head, I hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. "Thank you. You really don't have to do this." He's quiet for a second studying his own wounds.. "Thorns All from these tentacle...thorn..shits." He makes a tiny sound of discomfort. "I love you.."
I continue cleaning. "Shush. I love you, too."
Grabbing the strips of the t-shirt, I tie them snugly against the wounds on Alex's legs. Almost unconsciously, I breathe in the scent of his blood. It's different, somehow. I graze my fingers against one of the cuts before I finish tying the strip. Without attempting to hide the movement, I bring my fingers to my mouth and taste the fluid smeared across my skin. My head tilts to the side as the flavor fills my mouth. It's Alex, but different. Almost sweet, and weaker than Kindred blood should taste.
Alex continues to watch me, smiling, unaware of anything being off. He looks down to the bandaging job and grins. "You're awesome. Thank you so much." He slides off the counter top, wincing slightly and stretching his legs.
I blink at him, head still tilted. "You taste different...'
He raises a brow. "What? How so?" He lifts his arm, attempting to lick one of his scratches on his forearm. "What does it taste like?"
"Not you. Well...like you, but different." I swat at him. "Stop trying to eat yourself. It's unsanitary."
"But I wanna taste it.." He replies, as he manages to lick some of the dried blood on his arm. He smacks his lips and shrugs. "I don't taste anything. Maybe it was sap or some shit or something.." He shrugs. "Could just be something residual, I dunno.."
He moves to wrap his arms around me. "If I can't eat myself, who else could I eat?" He raises a brow and smiles. "Kinda kidding. Kinda not. I reallly missed you.."
"I mean, you still taste good.." My eyes stray below his waist. "Oh god, phrasing..." I step into his arms, feeling flustered and pressing my face into the crook of his neck. "You look really cute tonight..."
He runs his hands over my back and smiles "That's my line." Closing his eyes, and seemingly to take in my smell, Alex's hands move farther down my back. "I'm sorry. I'm just...being a dude." He lets out a small contented sigh as he moves his head to look at me. "Don't worry, nothing has to ever happen."
"You're allowed..." I move closer to him, holding my body against his with only slight hesitance. "To be a dude. And..um.." I trail off, gently kissing his neck.
Alex closes his eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. "Mmm gurl, you're gonna have to stop. Lightsaber in my pants joke here." His hands move down to gently rest on my backside. "Hey" he whispers, softly kissing the side of my head. "I love you. Anything that you're not comfortable with, is cool."
Despite the tinge of anxiety that creeps into my psyche, I manage to keep my tone cool and even. "And that's how I know you're not a real teenager. Pretty sure you would have roofied me by now.." I pull my face from his shoulder, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck. Drawing my lips to Alex, I kiss him. The kiss starts chaste and hesitant, but with effort, I pull him closer and manage the best attempt at passion as I can.
He meets my lips, closing his eyes as the kiss deepened, pressing his body against mine. He breaks the kiss after a moment "Nah, I want you to actually enjoy this. I just want...you" he murmurs, before catching my lips again, kissing me longingly. "I actually have a bed here..." He tone seems to be leaving the statement open ended, curious for my response. His hands trace along my back, kneading the skin exposed by the back of my dress.
I shiver slightly when his fingers meet my skin. Keeping my face close to his, I chew the inside of my lip."Do you want to get in it?" I pause. "Umm..the bed? Your bed."
He snickers. "That phrasing." Taking a small step back, he takes my hand, thumb rubbing the back of it as looked to me. "No pressure." He leads me to his small bedroom, and unmade bed. Pulling me close, I'm glad my heart doesn't beat, so that he can't notice the fear that I'm unable to fully dismiss. His hands are gentle, his touch soft and loving. Alex kisses the lobe of my ear, whispering "I love you." and shutting the door to the bedroom.
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I will trade it all for another day just to feel you and your warmth.
Waking up as the sun goes down, I'm amazed that I slept through the whole day. The dregs of dreams swirl around my subconscious as I cra...
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Waking up as the sun goes down, I'm amazed that I slept through the whole day. The dregs of dreams swirl around my subconscious as I cra...
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I exit the doors of St. Leo's, forcing myself to walk slowly and calmly down the stairs to the sidewalk below. I talk a few steps away f...
