fic - original - deceive me (II of X)
TITLE | damaged goods
FANDOM | original
PAIRING/CHARACTERS | ensemble
RATING | R
TRAILER | here
NOTES | And the story continues! Just a warning though, the story begins to get creepier from here on out -- especially this chapter's ending. Hahaha. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it and continue reading the following chapters once I release them though. :D
A young boy is clutching his pillow, asleep face down on his bed. The boy’s room is unusually quiet until a chorus of barks penetrate the boy’s plain, white walls. Casey Stark is late for his first day of school, but he doesn’t know it yet. Luckily, his black Labrador Shepherd serves as his alarm clock. The dog pushes the half-open door to Casey’s room completely open and approaches his ear. Before licking Casey’s ear, he barks one more time. If Casey was not up before he certainly was now, albeit with a loud ringing in his ear.
Casey rolls over and slowly opens his eyes, his dog gradually coming into perspective. His eyes dart across the room and target a round clock hung above his computer. He screams out “Shit!” and quickly jumps off the bed, missing his dog by a few seconds. After rushing to the bathroom - brushing his teeth, splashing water on his face, etc - and rushing out, he crouches below his bed in search of his shoes.
“Want to play a game, boy?” Casey asks his Labrador shepherd. “Let’s play, ‘Where did you hide Casey’s shoes”. Sound like a fun game?”
The dog replies with a bark and then scatters across the room to stick his nose under a pile of dirty clothes. Another bark implies that he’s found the shoes.
“Good boy.” Casey stands up again and rushes to the pile of clothes. “That’s a good Rodney.”
Rodney breathes in several times as his mouth remains ajar and his tongue flaps up and down. Casey rubs his head as reward for his excellent scavenger hunt skills and then launches open his closet door. “What the hell does someone wear to the first day of school?”
After minutes of shuffling through different shirts, Casey finally chooses the right one - the dingy gray polo his best friend gave him for his last birthday. He then runs out of his room, while attempting to walk and put on his jeans at the same time. When he reaches the bottom, his foster father is unconscious on the couch in the next room over with an empty bottle of Johnny Walker Black, almost attached to his hip. Casey rolls his eyes as he passes by the threshold of the living room.
When Casey was nine years old, he lost his parents to a fire. While he was outside in tears, waiting for fire rescue to arrive, he met Rodney. Rodney was his saving grace and is now his only family. Child services struggled to search for foster parents for Casey, but he refused to be with anyone that weren’t his real parents. For a year Casey jumped from shelter to shelter with his dog, until he finally gave in and agreed to have foster parents. Unfortunately for him, Casey had no idea he would get stuck with such crappy parents. He was “blessed” with an alcoholic for a father and a mother who spends more time in an airplane as a stewardess than in her own room. Yup, real parental figures. The past seven years have molded Casey into something a normal sixteen year old wouldn’t be capable of.
Casey arrives in school just as the third tardy bell rings, only to collide with Sarah Foster who shares Casey efficiency in showing up late.. Casey bends down and begins to search through the mess of jumbled assignments and covered textbooks, just as Sarah bends down causing each other to bump heads.
“Yeah, that‘s going to hurt for a while.” Casey lets out a chuckle as he rubs his head.
“Well, look on the brightside, at least you know that ones with my name on it aren‘t yours” Sarah bends down again and grabs her books, returning Casey‘s chuckle.
“I believe we have a winner!” Casey directs his attention to the paper bag-covered Chemistry book. “I’m Casey, you know, for future reference or FYI. Whatever floats your boat. Sorry about the massive headache you’re going to have suffer through while in class though,”
“Good thing my purse is the direct equivalent to a pocket pharmacy! Sarah, you know, for future reference or FYI. “Whatever floats your boat”.” Sarah replies with a coquettish tone.
Moments after the sparks settle between the two, Casey suddenly remembers he should be in class already.
“As much as I’d like to continue this game of monkey see, monkey do we’re playing, chemistry awaits my friend…and not the kind of chemistry we seem to be having.” Casey grins and picks up the rest of his homework that remained on the floor.
Sarah is speechless, only sporting a red face and a joyful smirk. As Casey turns around and walks away, words finally come to her. “What period do you have lunch?” Unfortunately, Casey has already walked into class and her words are ignored. Sarah clutches onto her books tightly finally heading towards her class. She stands in front of her homeroom for a few seconds, swinging the door open shortly after. Her feet paces deeper into the classrom until someone catches her eye.
No. Fricking. Way. Just...no. No.
Casey Stark - the same guy who had redefined the phrase 'love at first sight' seconds earlier in the hallway - was rushing to find a seat in a filled chemistry classroom. Knots formed inside of Sarah's stomach as she clutched her textbook tighter than before, only to have it flop on its face on the floor before her. Upon reaching down and flipping the book face forward she made a startling revelation.
Oh, Casey Stark, you might just be the death of me. Sarah thinks to herself as she reads Casey’s last name inside her book.
A silver ‘98 Nissan stands vigilant outside of St. Christopher’s Hospital for the Criminally Insane. As the focus on the car pans inwards, we discover Neville Castle waiting in the driver’s seat. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and puts his cup of coffee down to answer it.
“Are you ready?” He speaks into the phone.
“Yeah, hurry up and come get me. I can’t stand this place one minute more…” the masculine voice on the other end replies.
“Keep on with the demands and I’ll tell them to keep you another three months there." Neville laughs as he directs his focus towards the mental hospital.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just come…please?” the other end goes dead.
Neville ends the call and exits his car, prepared to pick up whoever is waiting for him inside. Once inside he approaches the triage area and drums on the counter. “You look like you’re the kind of person that can help me out! I was called…to come pickup my brother, he was discharged earlier today. His name‘s Morgan Castle.”
The intern rolls his eyes at Neville’s comment and then thumbs through several files in front of him. He stops once he reaches Morgan’s discharge papers, placing them in front of Neville.
“By signing this discharge form you are accepting full responsibility for Morgan’s early release. If, by any chance, anything happens to the patient after he leaves this hospital we are not liable for anything. You are going against medical advice and while it isn’t a smart thing to do, we can’t keep you from doing it. Sign here and here, with initials and date here.” the intern pointed to several Xs on the form and then handed Neville a pen.
Once Neville signed after every X, the intern hovered a card over a small reader besides his desk, launching a door behind him open. “Go on in, he’s waiting for you.”
At the Wiles Manor Georgina lays on her bed with her hands over her eyes, remembering the necklace she found around her neck and the photos which were scattered around the bed she is now lying on. What the fuck is wrong with you Georgina. He’s locked up, he can’t hurt you. He won’t, I’m sure of it. Where did he finds those pictures…and that…necklace…Today you turned twenty-seven and the entire night to celebrate it will make it all go away. There’s nothing nine bottles of vodka can’t fix.
Her thoughts are interrupted by Laura knocking on the door, she informs Georgina that someone is here to see her. A medium-sized man with well-kept blonde hair and green eyes appears from behind Laura.
“Cheers to the birthday girl.” the guy says in monotone.
“What are you doing here, Mike.” Georgina speaks in the same tone.
“Since when can’t ex-husbands come visit their ex-wives? I missed you.” Mike gets closer to Georgina’s bed.
“I’m good staying where you are.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
“And we were off to such a good start too, what a shame.”
“Go fuck yourself, Foster.”
“Yeah, not as good as when I was with you. Sorry.”
“Seriously, the sooner you tell me what you want, the faster you can leave my house.”
“I just came to ask if my invitation was lost in the mail?”
“I think it was lost on purpose.” Georgina finished her sentence with a deep breath of discomfort.
“I’m hurt, honestly.”
“Are you done?” Georgina was beginning to become annoyed (and/or uncomfortable with Mike's presence) and it was starting to show in her voice.
“No actually. We sort of have a problem…” He waved a piece of paper in front of Georgina. “Our daughter’s missing and she left this behind.”
Georgina launches herself out of bed upon hearing the bad news. Her eyes dart to a picture she keeps on the mantle across from her bed. The picture featured herself, her daughter Whitney and Mike all huddled outside their house on Thanksgiving last year. As she took in the picture, the phone next to her rang loudly.
Georgina looked away from the picture and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
For a while no one spoke on the other end -- until someone breathed into the receiver, “Read what she left behind, Georgina.”
Georgina instantly let go of the phone and jumped out of bed, running to the large window inside her room. Much to her dismay, she didn’t find anything outside except for faux-green trees and an elderly couple walking across the street. The anxiety from the situation perculated inside of her until it finally attacked and caused her to collapsed on the floor right beside her.
“Georgina!” Mike yelled as he ran to her, not feeling the muscles in his feet tense up as he got closer to Georgina's anxiety-ridden body.
Inside a dark room in an abandoned warehouse, a girl is strapped to a chair with a gag around her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes. The door in front of her opens up to reveal a man walking towards her. He stands in front of her and crouches down between her legs, “Tonight you will be mine.” The man ignores the girl’s muffled screams as he pulls down his pants and strips out of his boxers. “Oh yes. You will be mine, Whitney.”
________________________________________________________________________
COMMENTS ARE AWESOMEEE. :D
FANDOM | original
PAIRING/CHARACTERS | ensemble
RATING | R
TRAILER | here
NOTES | And the story continues! Just a warning though, the story begins to get creepier from here on out -- especially this chapter's ending. Hahaha. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it and continue reading the following chapters once I release them though. :D
A young boy is clutching his pillow, asleep face down on his bed. The boy’s room is unusually quiet until a chorus of barks penetrate the boy’s plain, white walls. Casey Stark is late for his first day of school, but he doesn’t know it yet. Luckily, his black Labrador Shepherd serves as his alarm clock. The dog pushes the half-open door to Casey’s room completely open and approaches his ear. Before licking Casey’s ear, he barks one more time. If Casey was not up before he certainly was now, albeit with a loud ringing in his ear.
Casey rolls over and slowly opens his eyes, his dog gradually coming into perspective. His eyes dart across the room and target a round clock hung above his computer. He screams out “Shit!” and quickly jumps off the bed, missing his dog by a few seconds. After rushing to the bathroom - brushing his teeth, splashing water on his face, etc - and rushing out, he crouches below his bed in search of his shoes.
“Want to play a game, boy?” Casey asks his Labrador shepherd. “Let’s play, ‘Where did you hide Casey’s shoes”. Sound like a fun game?”
The dog replies with a bark and then scatters across the room to stick his nose under a pile of dirty clothes. Another bark implies that he’s found the shoes.
“Good boy.” Casey stands up again and rushes to the pile of clothes. “That’s a good Rodney.”
Rodney breathes in several times as his mouth remains ajar and his tongue flaps up and down. Casey rubs his head as reward for his excellent scavenger hunt skills and then launches open his closet door. “What the hell does someone wear to the first day of school?”
After minutes of shuffling through different shirts, Casey finally chooses the right one - the dingy gray polo his best friend gave him for his last birthday. He then runs out of his room, while attempting to walk and put on his jeans at the same time. When he reaches the bottom, his foster father is unconscious on the couch in the next room over with an empty bottle of Johnny Walker Black, almost attached to his hip. Casey rolls his eyes as he passes by the threshold of the living room.
When Casey was nine years old, he lost his parents to a fire. While he was outside in tears, waiting for fire rescue to arrive, he met Rodney. Rodney was his saving grace and is now his only family. Child services struggled to search for foster parents for Casey, but he refused to be with anyone that weren’t his real parents. For a year Casey jumped from shelter to shelter with his dog, until he finally gave in and agreed to have foster parents. Unfortunately for him, Casey had no idea he would get stuck with such crappy parents. He was “blessed” with an alcoholic for a father and a mother who spends more time in an airplane as a stewardess than in her own room. Yup, real parental figures. The past seven years have molded Casey into something a normal sixteen year old wouldn’t be capable of.
Casey arrives in school just as the third tardy bell rings, only to collide with Sarah Foster who shares Casey efficiency in showing up late.. Casey bends down and begins to search through the mess of jumbled assignments and covered textbooks, just as Sarah bends down causing each other to bump heads.
“Yeah, that‘s going to hurt for a while.” Casey lets out a chuckle as he rubs his head.
“Well, look on the brightside, at least you know that ones with my name on it aren‘t yours” Sarah bends down again and grabs her books, returning Casey‘s chuckle.
“I believe we have a winner!” Casey directs his attention to the paper bag-covered Chemistry book. “I’m Casey, you know, for future reference or FYI. Whatever floats your boat. Sorry about the massive headache you’re going to have suffer through while in class though,”
“Good thing my purse is the direct equivalent to a pocket pharmacy! Sarah, you know, for future reference or FYI. “Whatever floats your boat”.” Sarah replies with a coquettish tone.
Moments after the sparks settle between the two, Casey suddenly remembers he should be in class already.
“As much as I’d like to continue this game of monkey see, monkey do we’re playing, chemistry awaits my friend…and not the kind of chemistry we seem to be having.” Casey grins and picks up the rest of his homework that remained on the floor.
Sarah is speechless, only sporting a red face and a joyful smirk. As Casey turns around and walks away, words finally come to her. “What period do you have lunch?” Unfortunately, Casey has already walked into class and her words are ignored. Sarah clutches onto her books tightly finally heading towards her class. She stands in front of her homeroom for a few seconds, swinging the door open shortly after. Her feet paces deeper into the classrom until someone catches her eye.
No. Fricking. Way. Just...no. No.
Casey Stark - the same guy who had redefined the phrase 'love at first sight' seconds earlier in the hallway - was rushing to find a seat in a filled chemistry classroom. Knots formed inside of Sarah's stomach as she clutched her textbook tighter than before, only to have it flop on its face on the floor before her. Upon reaching down and flipping the book face forward she made a startling revelation.
Oh, Casey Stark, you might just be the death of me. Sarah thinks to herself as she reads Casey’s last name inside her book.
A silver ‘98 Nissan stands vigilant outside of St. Christopher’s Hospital for the Criminally Insane. As the focus on the car pans inwards, we discover Neville Castle waiting in the driver’s seat. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and puts his cup of coffee down to answer it.
“Are you ready?” He speaks into the phone.
“Yeah, hurry up and come get me. I can’t stand this place one minute more…” the masculine voice on the other end replies.
“Keep on with the demands and I’ll tell them to keep you another three months there." Neville laughs as he directs his focus towards the mental hospital.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just come…please?” the other end goes dead.
Neville ends the call and exits his car, prepared to pick up whoever is waiting for him inside. Once inside he approaches the triage area and drums on the counter. “You look like you’re the kind of person that can help me out! I was called…to come pickup my brother, he was discharged earlier today. His name‘s Morgan Castle.”
The intern rolls his eyes at Neville’s comment and then thumbs through several files in front of him. He stops once he reaches Morgan’s discharge papers, placing them in front of Neville.
“By signing this discharge form you are accepting full responsibility for Morgan’s early release. If, by any chance, anything happens to the patient after he leaves this hospital we are not liable for anything. You are going against medical advice and while it isn’t a smart thing to do, we can’t keep you from doing it. Sign here and here, with initials and date here.” the intern pointed to several Xs on the form and then handed Neville a pen.
Once Neville signed after every X, the intern hovered a card over a small reader besides his desk, launching a door behind him open. “Go on in, he’s waiting for you.”
At the Wiles Manor Georgina lays on her bed with her hands over her eyes, remembering the necklace she found around her neck and the photos which were scattered around the bed she is now lying on. What the fuck is wrong with you Georgina. He’s locked up, he can’t hurt you. He won’t, I’m sure of it. Where did he finds those pictures…and that…necklace…Today you turned twenty-seven and the entire night to celebrate it will make it all go away. There’s nothing nine bottles of vodka can’t fix.
Her thoughts are interrupted by Laura knocking on the door, she informs Georgina that someone is here to see her. A medium-sized man with well-kept blonde hair and green eyes appears from behind Laura.
“Cheers to the birthday girl.” the guy says in monotone.
“What are you doing here, Mike.” Georgina speaks in the same tone.
“Since when can’t ex-husbands come visit their ex-wives? I missed you.” Mike gets closer to Georgina’s bed.
“I’m good staying where you are.”
“Oh really?”
“Really.”
“And we were off to such a good start too, what a shame.”
“Go fuck yourself, Foster.”
“Yeah, not as good as when I was with you. Sorry.”
“Seriously, the sooner you tell me what you want, the faster you can leave my house.”
“I just came to ask if my invitation was lost in the mail?”
“I think it was lost on purpose.” Georgina finished her sentence with a deep breath of discomfort.
“I’m hurt, honestly.”
“Are you done?” Georgina was beginning to become annoyed (and/or uncomfortable with Mike's presence) and it was starting to show in her voice.
“No actually. We sort of have a problem…” He waved a piece of paper in front of Georgina. “Our daughter’s missing and she left this behind.”
Georgina launches herself out of bed upon hearing the bad news. Her eyes dart to a picture she keeps on the mantle across from her bed. The picture featured herself, her daughter Whitney and Mike all huddled outside their house on Thanksgiving last year. As she took in the picture, the phone next to her rang loudly.
Georgina looked away from the picture and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
For a while no one spoke on the other end -- until someone breathed into the receiver, “Read what she left behind, Georgina.”
Georgina instantly let go of the phone and jumped out of bed, running to the large window inside her room. Much to her dismay, she didn’t find anything outside except for faux-green trees and an elderly couple walking across the street. The anxiety from the situation perculated inside of her until it finally attacked and caused her to collapsed on the floor right beside her.
“Georgina!” Mike yelled as he ran to her, not feeling the muscles in his feet tense up as he got closer to Georgina's anxiety-ridden body.
Inside a dark room in an abandoned warehouse, a girl is strapped to a chair with a gag around her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes. The door in front of her opens up to reveal a man walking towards her. He stands in front of her and crouches down between her legs, “Tonight you will be mine.” The man ignores the girl’s muffled screams as he pulls down his pants and strips out of his boxers. “Oh yes. You will be mine, Whitney.”
________________________________________________________________________
COMMENTS ARE AWESOMEEE. :D