Death's Joke Makes The Heart Weep (oneshot)

[clockworks11]

>>>"Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example. What I've done is going to be puzzled over, and studied, and followed... forever."-Se7en ( 1995 film )<<<

We've learned to except insanity into our lives as a normal thing. What is normal?

Rain was falling heavily. Too many raindrops falling to see any individual drop. Clothes were soaked to the skin, but the rain didn't stop the following events...

"You... you don't have to do th-this, Brendon..." the new sin stuttered.

"Oh, but I do." Brendon replied. His black hair was drenched, and clung to his face. He ignored the drops of rain rolling down his forehead, splattering his glasses, down his cheeks, and ignored them as they rolled down his body.

The girl he had cornered in this alley didn't make an attempt to scream, because she knew no one would come. So, she was going to at least reason with Brendon.

"I kn-know why you're doing this, Brendon... But if you kill me, then you're j-just as bad as-"

BANG!

With her sentance never finished, blood slowly poured out of her partially opened mouth, and from the bullet hole in her head as she slowly slipped down the brick wall... and what an awful mess she left behind as she went. The last of the smoke spiraled out of the gun, and disappeared quickly into the rainy, Chicago night sky, and a warm, fluttery feeling went through Brendon's heart. Almost like feeling love.

He lowered the recently smoking gun down as he examined the girl he had just killed. The events leading up to this cold murder ran through Brendon's mind...

A girl who lived a dirty life worked as a slut.

Lustful men who also lived terrible, low lives used her.

God only knows what fucked up diseases she had and was giving to these "innocent" men, but that wasn't the best part...

She killed most of these men, and took their money.

No one really liked these sleazy men in the first place, so no one looked for them.

Brendon found her, and asked her out on a "date".

Of course she wouldn't back down.

She was a sinner who needed to be stopped.

Brendon stopped her.

He believed his reason for being put on this world was to stop any low sinner. As long as he could make their death's unnoticed, he'd make a fail proof plan to kill these terrible people while getting away with it... He was helping the world... technically.

He lived alone, he lived with a corroded sanity, and he lived without love. Unless the love for killing terrible people counted.

Brendon considered making this death look like a suicide, but instead he realized he didn't have to. The police would assume some guy who wanted his money shot this cheap whore. So, he put his gun away as he stepped closer to the body. He then leaned down on one knee to look into the eyes of the girl he had killed. Her eyes hadn't closed.

"You know sweety, you brought this upon yourself." Brendon whispered to the lifeless body. He then closed her eyes as he whispered even quieter than before,

"And no, I'm not like you. I'm not a disease spreading whore who kills. I just kill for the better..." Brendon then stood up, examined his work one last time, then walked out of the alley as if nothing happened. There wasn't even a drop of blood to be found on him. He was clean.

.:-:.

Brendon found himself relaxing at a coffee shop the next day. Yes, he lead a... normal life. Due to it being a Saturday, he had no work to attend to. He sat at a table, drinking coffee as he read a book. He looked pretty normal, and that's what he was going for. The ideal meaning of "normal".

The coffee shop door always rang when a customer came in. Brendon would always have this urge to look up at the door. It wasn't like someone entered every five seconds, so this didn't bother him at all... he was just a curious person.

It was about the sixth person who came in that caught his eye. He was medium tall, had dark brown hair, and had this strange, different look to him. He looked different from everyone else. The others in the coffee shop just blended together, but this man stood out to Brendon. When this man caught Brendon staring at him, Brendon slowly looked back down at his book. He didn't know what made this guy so goddamn different, but whatever it was, he thought it best to ignore him.

Almost like this stranger knew Brendon was trying to block out his existence, the man sat across from Brendon to just make his day even better... Mentally sighing, Brendon tried to concentrate on the words that were on the page, but as hard as he tried to cling to the words, they only drifted away. The stranger's presence was just overwhelming.

"Hi! My name is, Jon." the stranger spoke up happily. Such a dull way to introduce yourself, and yet this Jon guy made it brighten with his voice. However, Brendon continued to ignore this man. This feeling in Brendon's heart and mind only made him confused, and he could not speak. So, he continued to "read" his book.

"Sooooo... What'cha readin'?" Jon asked. Brendon dully turned the page in attempt to make it seem like he wasn't paying any attention to this Jon guy. However, Jon continued to sit there patiently, and after a few moments of awkward silence, he softly pushed the book upwards to read the cover, and in the process brushed his fingers against Brendon's.

"Oooh, some Edgar Allen Poe stuff? I adore his work..." Jon said happily. Brendon raised an eyebrow at Jon, then scolded himself for looking up. He was... slightly... just maybe... miserably... falling for a stranger. He'd only feel this sort of emotion when he killed someone, so what did that mean now? He was still slightly confused.

"Please talk to me..." Jon pouted when Brendon looked back down at his book. This was hard for Brendon. He realized this feeling was a caring feeling for this stranger, not a want to kill him. But that was bad...

If he got close to this stranger, then he'd most likely find out a terrible sin about this man... and want to kill him. But he didn't want to! But he'd feel like he'd have to. He decided the best thing to do was to ignore him.

"I came over here for a reason..." Jon whispered as he looked down into his coffee that he was stirring.

"Really?" Brendon muttered as he turned the page. Jon looked back up at Brendon with a smile.

"You finally talked! And you do have a beautiful voice! You should speak louder!" Jon replied happily.

"WHY DID YOU COME OVER HERE?" Brendon shouted. "Is that better?"

"Better than whispering!" Jon laughed. "Well, I had a question..."

"Yes...?" Brendon sighed as he set his book down. Jon looked down at his coffee, and began to nervously bite his lip.

"I was wondering if... Maybe you'd like to do something with me sometime... Like tonight?" Jon looked into Brendon's eyes as he finished his awkward sentence. Brendon was shocked.

"Do you mean like a... date?" Brendon asked equally awkward.

"Uh... Yea..." Jon said, still nervously biting onto one side of his lip. Brendon didn't know how to reply.

"Sorry... can't." Brendon muttered as he looked down at his closed book.

"Oh, and why not?" Jon asked stubbornly.

"I might kill you even if I learn to love you."

"...Just... Because." Brendon continued to mutter as he awkwardly looked up at Jon, but then looked back down.

"That's not a good answer." Jon replied. He was not accepting a 'no' unless the reason was good enough.

"Then I'm sorry to disappoint." Brendon huffed. He then picked up his book, and left the coffee shop quickly. Lucky enough, the stranger did not follow...

.:-:.

Brendon rushed to his apartment. The stranger didn't know where Brendon lived, so he was safe... but not safe from his own heart.

As Brendon entered his room, he threw his keys onto a nearby table, and went into the living room. He slunk into his couch calmy in his living room, and sighed. He then took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, but when his eyes were closed all he saw was the stranger. Everything amazing about the stranger flashed in Brendon's mind.

Jon's hair, smile, laugh, voice... All of it. Brendon hadn't managed to run away from him.

He quickly opened his eyes, and put his glasses back on. He then stared at the white, blank wall in front of him.

What do I do? Find him? What then, would I kill him? I can't, but I'd find a way to. I've never felt this way... about a person. Is this good or bad? Is this love? What is love? The same feeling I get when I kill someone? I can feel that when I look, no just thinking about this Jon person. Is ignoring him worth it? This feeling may only get worse, but I'm not sure. I think it is, and I'm not liking it. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I need to get out. Maybe trapping myself in my apartment wasn't so smart...

Brendon's mind was obviously reeling.

So, he decided to leave his room... little did he know, staying in might have been smarter.

After he grabbed his keys, he quickly left his room. As soon as he shut the door, and looked down the hallway in the direction that he was going in, he saw Jon. And Jon saw him. Both froze in anticipation for what the other might do. Brendon's heart rate sped up like it did when he killed someone... it felt good.

"Do you live here?" Jon finally spoke up, and began walking closer to Brendon.

"Uh, yea. I uh... I live in this... uh... room." Brendon nervously replied, still muttering as he pushed up his glasses on his nose.

"Hmm. I see." Jon laughed. "I live on this floor too! Well, as of only a few days ago."

"That's... that's great. It's usually quiet on this floor, I'm sure... you'll liven it up..." Brendon awkwardly replied looking everywhere except for Jon's face.

"Oh? What's that suppose to mean?" Jon asked with a smirk.

"You seem like a... a very... happy person." Brendon replied quietly. He finally managed to make eye contact with Jon. It sent shivers down his spine.

"Yea... I guess you could say that." Jon laughed. He then stepped even closer to Brendon. "So,  I guess we'll be friends?"

"Sure..." Brendon whispered looking away. He could look into the eyes of a victim he was killing, but not Jon.

"I'd really like to be your friend." Jon said quieter, getting even closer to Brendon. There was no distance left between them. Brendon felt a wave of emotions splash over him. He didn't want to, but he looked back into Jon's eyes. They were so close, and so beautiful. Brendon wasn't sure if he was breathing. Jon slowly leaned forward to kiss Brendon, and Brendon had also slowly leaned towards Jon until their lips met. Brendon enjoyed the kiss very much, but pulled back only a few seconds into it.

"Sorry..." Jon mumbled as he backed away.

"No!" Brendon said louder than he usually spoke. Jon looked up at him confused. "I mean... don't be. I was just caught off guard."

"So, you liked my kiss?" Jon asked almost seductively. Brendon blushed.

"Yea... I guess." he whispered. His eyes were glued to Jon's.

"So does this mean you'll do something with me tonight?" Jon asked happily.

"Sure." Brendon gulped. Jon kissed Brendon quickly on the lips.

"Thank you! I'll come knocking at your door around seven, okay?" Jon asked with a huge smile.

"Yea, sure." Brendon awkwardly smiled back. Jon continued to smile as he said,

"Okay, see you then!" He then began to walk down the hall, and turned left where more rooms were.

Brendon sighed.

But it was a happy one.

.:-:.

A few minutes before seven, Brendon was pacing in his living room, dressed up ready for his date. He was very anxious. He was more afraid than nervous.

When the clock struck seven, a few knocks came to the door, and Brendon quickly turned to stare nervously. He considered ignoring the knocking, and not go on the date at all... and yet he couldn't resist. Slowly but surely, Brendon made his way towards the door, and slowly opened it.

"Hi! I almost thought you forgot about me!" Jon smiled upon Brendon opening the door.

"I could never forget about you..." Brendon murmured with a smile.

"Aww, you're just too sweet!" Jon laughed. "Okay, let's go!"

Jon practically dragged Brendon out of their apartment building just from how excited he was. They went to a restaurant to eat, and Jon did most of the talking. Brendon was too shy to talk... and he usually didn't have anyone to talk to in the first place. After they were done eating, they stayed at the restaurant a little longer to talk.

"So, why are you so quiet?" Jon asked. Brendon nervously played with his napkin.

"I don't know..." he replied looking down at his lap.

"Personally, I think it's a little cute... but just a tad strange. Usually people brighten up after some time. Maybe you just need more time!" Jon concluded with a smile. Brendon looked up at Jon.

"Yea, maybe... So, uh... What do you like to do?" Brendon asked quietly.

"I'm very artistic! I love to write music, and paint... ya know, stuff like that! But I have one hobby that's a little strange." Jon laughed nervously.

"I'm sure it isn't that bad." Brendon laughed to himself, while thinking of his own sort of "hobby".

"Weeeell, I kind of have this... weird type of fascination with... death. I don't kill anyone, but something about death just... it just makes me feel so alive, and happy! I can't explain it, and I know it's strange..." Jon confessed.

"No, I don't think it's strange at all." Brendon replied, speaking louder than usual, but still quieter than most.

"You-you don't?" Jon asked in disbelief.

"Of course I don't think it's strange. I mean, we all have strange obsessions... fascinations... enthrallments..." Brendon rambled off quietly as he looked back down.

"Yea, I guess we do..." Jon replied just as quiet as Brendon. He began to study Brendon's empty face that had no emotion to be deciphered. A silence stayed between them for a few short moments before Brendon looked up at Jon and quietly said,

"Well, I guess we should go..." Their eyes locked for only a moment until Jon got out of his silent trance.

"Yea, okay. Let's go." Jon responded, sounding confused almost. They paid the check, and left.

They had walked to the restaurant that night because there was only a bittersweet wind to the spring night, but their walk was more silent than before. Brendon was worried.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, being louder than his usual self for the second time that night.

"No, I'm just thinking, that's all." Jon mumbled looking forward. Brendon was studying Jon's face, hoping to find some trace of what he might be thinking of, and if it was good or bad. Then Jon stopped.

"I really like you." he stated loudly. They were walking through a park to get back to their apartment building, but the park was nearly empty. Brendon had accidentally taken a few more steps forward not knowing of Jon's abrupt stop, so he turned around to look back at him.

A gust of wind blew between the two before anyone said another word.

"I really like you too, Jon." Brendon mumbled as his hair blew around his face.

"But it's strange, because I just met you! There's something different about you." Jon confirmed. Brendon felt his face burn red. He wasn't sure if it was because Jon had just technically given him a compliment, or because he was thinking of what made him just so goddamn different.

Brendon was trying to think of something, anything nice or sweet to compliment Jon's God-like perfection that his being was, but words got tangled as eyes met in a deep connection. He then noticed Jon shiver, and quickly filled the space between them to wrap his arms around Jon's now shivering body.

"You look cold, we should probably keep walking." Brendon whispered, but more so intimate than his usual brooding ways.

"Yea, I guess." Jon whispered back.

When they finally arrived at the apartment building, Brendon walked Jon to his room. Once they stood in front of his door, Jon smiled,

"I had a wonderful time tonight, and I really want to this again."

"Same here." Brendon smiled back.

"Well, I'd invite you in... But I can't, no, shouldn't is a better word." Jon started as he fished his keys out of his back pocket. "You see, I'm doing this huge project in my room, and I don't want anyone in my room to see it 'till it's done!" Jon smiled with a spark in his eye.

"I understand, but uh... Can you tell me a little about it?" Brendon asked curious.

"I'm not giving anything away! Well, okay, maybe a little. I can without a doubt say that this project is different than most art projects. I'm putting my heart, soul, dedication, and life into it." Jon smirked his reply.

"Sounds poetic." Brendon awkwardly laughed. "Well, I guess I'll uh... You know, uhm, go now." he awkwardly stumbled out. Jon laughed as he finished unlocking his door, then quickly kissed Brendon on the lips, and entered his room. Brendon placed his fingers on his lips as his face grew red again.

.:-:.

~ "You can't tell me what to do, Charles!"

"Yea? What makes you so sure?! I put a roof over your head! I pay for the bills! What'chu think you gonna do with your life!!!"

"I think I'm gonna leave, and find a better place to live! I'm gonna get a job, and find someone new to support me!"

"Don't make me laugh! What man would want you?! What job would want you?! What sane person would sell you a goddamn place to live in?!"

A small six year old boy sat outside the kitchen where his parents were fighting as usual. He had his legs pressed against his small body, and covered his ears to ignore the yelling. Tears violently ran down his cheeks from his tightly closed eyes as his mother and father grew louder.

"Ohhh, here we go again! You're just so fucking sure that I can't make a goddamn living! Well, I can!!! And when I do, I'm taking full custody of my son, Charles!"

"No you most certainly aren't! I've raised the boy more than you ever have!"

"Raised is what you call it?! All you ever do when you get home is get drunker than fuck, and complain! You're drunk even now! I'm tired of you being drunk, and taking control of my life! And so is my son!"

"Maybe I wouldn't need alcohol if you weren't such a failure as a wife!"

"That's it, I can't take another word from you. I'm leaving now, and I will be taking my son! And don't you dare follow me, or I'll call the police!"

The small boy opened his ears after it became silent, only to hear shuffling feet and more screams... but coming from his mother, and in agony and pain instead of anger.

"LET GO OF ME! DON'T! STOP!"

A sick sound of death filled the air.

The boy heard a body slump to the floor. His eyes grew wide as he pushed himself up, and ran into the kitchen. There he found his mother dead on the floor with a slit throat. His father was on his knees crying as he slowly dropped the knife he had quickly pulled out of the sink.

"Daddy?" the boy begged, pleaded, asked in disbelief. His father looked at him. They were eye level.

"I... I had to... She was gonna take you from me, son. Sometimes, you just gotta kill those bad people that get in the way of good. I did it... Because she doesn't love you the way I love you Brendon!" ~

Brendon quickly sat up in bed, sweating while breathing heavily. Sweat drenched his shirtless body, his white blanket sticking to him. He ran a hand through his hair as a tear ran down his cheek. He could understand why he was in the definition fucked-up, but he couldn't understand why God took away his mom when he was only six.

.:-:.

Knock knock!

Brendon stared at his clock to see it was five. He walked over to his door, and slowly opened it to see it was Jon.

"Hey there!" Jon smiled. "Wanna do something today?"

"Sure, I don't see why not." Brendon nervously laughed.

"'Kay, great! Can we go now?" Jon asked excited.

"Sure!" Brendon quietly laughed in return. He grabbed his keys, locked his door, and then was dragged out by Jon.

Today, Jon was taking Brendon to an unknown place. Jon wanted it to be a sort of surprise. When they arrived to their destination, it was an empty cemetery. It looked so serene during the day. Once Jon got out of the car, he walked around to grab Brendon's hand, and pulled him to a certain spot. After a few silent moments, they arrived at a tombstone.

Robert Walker

"This is my father." Jon said happily. Brendon stared at Jon, and couldn't understand how he could be so happy.

"Did you love him?" Brendon asked confused.

"Of course I did!" Jon replied with a shocked tone.

"Oh, I guess I've never seen anyone so happy to see a grave..." Brendon mumbled looking back down and the tombstone.

"Well, that's because they're not me!" Jon laughed. He then got down onto his knees, and got just a little bit closer to his father's tombstone.

"You see, my dad always told me that you shouldn't be sad at a funeral, and he said he'd want a party as his funeral. It's a time to celebrate a life, not mourn it! I didn't understand that until he died when I was only eight... but when he did die... I finally understood him." Jon whispered. He then turned his head to look at Brendon.

"I guess he taught me to love death."

Jon stood up, and grabbed Brendon by the hand again. He then walked Brendon over to a tree, and layed underneath it. Brendon slowly layed next to him. Jon just studied the leaves while Brendon studied him.

"What do you mean by love?" Brendon asked.

"Huh?" Jon asked as he turned to look at Brendon.

"What do you mean by loving death?" Brendon rephrased.

"I mean, I don't fear it. I think it's very beautiful actually." Jon replied with a warm smile.

"So, if you were to be dying of some slow disease, you'd accept the fact that you were dying?" Brendon asked.

"Of course, why be afraid of death?" Jon laughed. "People make death sound scary, and cold, and cruel... But just think about it... It's actually very... Beautiful."

"I suppose..." Brendon replied as he looked at the dancing leaves.

.:-:.

One in the morning.

"Mmm! MmmMMM! Mmmm!" the man tried to yell through the massive duct tape wrapped around his mouth. His ankles, and wrists were tied up, and he was laying on the ground trying to find a way to break free. He was failing miserably.

He was a rapist.

Brendon leaned against the brick wall of the alley he was in. His memory was blurred. He didn't remember tying this guy up, he didn't remember where he found this guy, and he most definitely didn't remember how he got himself back into this typical situation.

True, he knew this guy was a rapist, but still, his mind was blurred.

"MMMMMM!!!" the stranger moaned on the ground. He was rolling around in a puddle. Brendon sighed.

"Yea, I'd like to let you go, but it's a little too late now." Brendon laughed sarcastically. For the short time Brendon knew Jon, he really had changed. He felt like he should stop killing people. He hated his father, but the type of thing Brendon was doing only made him like his father.

"Hmm! HMM!" the man groaned in agony, wishing to be set free.

"Please understand I can't let you go now, but I promise you'll be the last. My want to kill people who have done wrong is... slowly going away." Brendon said distantly as he stared off to space. The groaning from the rapist interrupted his thoughts.

"Alright, okay, fine! I'll get you out of your misery!" Brendon continued nonchalantly. He took out a sharp knife, and slowly walked over to his victim.

.:-:.

~ "D-daddy?" the six year old boy stuttered. "P-please open the door!"

Silence.

"Daddy?!" the boy said again with a begging tone. When he knew the bedroom door just wouldn't budge, he ran to the kitchen, and found a screwdriver. The house had old doors, so you could unlock a door with a key... or a screwdriver.

The boy came back, and fumbled with puting the screwdriver in the keyhole, and trying to turn it back and forth. Tears blurring his sight made the task harder.

When he finally opened the door, he found his dad laying on the bed with an empty bottle in hand. The little boy crawled next to his father.

"Daddy, wake up!" the boy begged as he shoved his father. "Daddy!"

The boy rested his head upon his father's chest, and began to cry, and scream, until he couldn't breath anymore.

"What did I do wrong, Daddy? Was I a bad boy?!" the child yelled through heavy breathing. When no response came, he rested his head back down, and screamed. ~

Brendon woke up sweating. His throat felt raspy. He only hoped he hadn't really been screaming. Tears poured out of his eyes, but that was all. No choking up, no violent shaking, just tears running down his cheeks, mixing with sweat. He wished he could be with Jon, because Jon was the only person he learned to love since he lost his only family.

.:-:.

When Brendon woke the next day, he realized that he would no longer kill people. He made that a decision while killing his last victim, but his recent taunting dreams seemed to be saying more to him. They always got to him before, but now he considered that maybe if he stopped killing people then the nightmares would vanish... and with Jon's help, maybe he could move on.

After work, Brendon headed straight for his apartment, as he usually did, but he encountered Jon on his way going up to his room.

"Oh, hi Jon." Brendon smiled nervously.

"Hey, Brendon! I was just going down to get my mail, but I was wondering... Wanna do something today?" Jon asked excited.

"Yes!" Brendon exclaimed with a bigger smile. Jon laughed.

"Okay, okay! Seven sound good?" he asked Brendon while biting onto his lip.

"Sounds great... Jon." Brendon blushed. They exchanged goodbyes, then went their separate ways.

Right as the clocked turned seven, Jon knocked on Brendon's door. There was no hesitation, only Brendon's quick steps to his door. He opened it with a smile.

Their date, once again, was a great success. They learned more of each other. Brendon said nothing about his real past. When the date ended, they began to walk back to their apartment building. Jon began to talk about death again, and Brendon didn't mind at first. He really liked Jon's perspective on it. It gave it a nicer feel, at least better than sorrow.

"...and when blood trickles down, I see it as something beautiful. As art. I'd never kill anyone to see it, but, in movies, and art, you can. It really is beautiful, and so-"

But the more Jon talked about it, more of Brendon's past flashed through his mind. His mom, his dad, all of the people he's killed. Flashing in his mind ever so vividly.

"-I guess I can imagine why people might kill. Maybe it's for the beauty! And for the people who kill for revenge, I'm sure the beauty is in seeing that person's blood. Think about it-"

Brendon stared forward as he listened to Jon, but still, his mind was racing from vivid images, and Jon's words only highlighted them more.

"-If you were killing for a revengeful purpose, you'd wanna see someone's blood right?" Jon asked. Brendon stayed silent, too lost in what his mind was showing him.

Blood.

His mother.

A knife.

His father.

A gun.

Some sinner.

Beauty can be found in death.

But where can morals be found?

"Brendon?" Jon asked. Brendon stopped.

"I'm sorry..." Brendon whispered. He stopped. "I'm sorry!" he said louder.

"I can't listen to you talk about death... anymore. It's... It's just too much." Brendon continued as he looked forward.

"What?" Jon asked as he stopped and faced Brendon. Brendon stared at Jon.

"How can you keep talking about death? It isn't art! It's just... It's wrong! Death, killing, suicide, whatever you deem some great virtue, isn't! It is taking... one's ability to live... away." Brendon sighed out shakily. He tried to chose his words wisely. As he spoke, he forced words out with a passion. He knew what it meant to love the feel of death's cold touch, and he knew it was wrong.

"I knew it was too good to be true." Jon whispered looking down. " I knew you thought I was a freak. This wasn't a good idea."

"Jon, I don't think you're a freak!" Brendon stressed. "But, getting some strange high off of death is wrong! It's terrible!"

"I'm sorry I'm wrong!" Jon yelled.

"Maybe you are! You're unhealthy!" Brendon yelled back. He regretted it.

"Oh, that's how you think of me?" Jon asked angrily. Brendon was quiet, unsure of how to reply.

"That's fine... That's just fine!" Jon yelled, then stormed off without Brendon. Brendon was in too much shock over what happened to move.

.:-:.

Brendon walked into his apartment room slowly. He still just could not comprehend what happened. Did he lose the only person he actually loved for once in his life because he finally hated death? Why did his life always seem to circulate around death? Brendon didn't know what to do, so he just walked into his bathroom, and took a hold of his shaving razor. It was an old fashioned looking shaving razor, one that you'd swing open. He applied shaving creme to his face, and then began to shave. Why? He didn't know. He felt like time was slowing down, slowing down too quickly... if that made sense.

Once he finished shaving, he wiped off access shaving cream and threw the razor into the sink. He felt tears stinging at his eyes as reality finally caught up with him and kicked him in the stomach. He clutched the sink as he stared down at the razor for a few moments, then looked up at his mirror, staring back at himself.

A conclusion came to Brendon.

If death was suppose to follow him everywhere, he obviously could not stop it. Death is a known factor in everyone's life, but more so for him. Then is when he realized that he would always be like his dad.

Killing people he thought should die.

Brendon stared down at his razor again, watching as the light made the blade glisten. He picked it up forcefully, then left his apartment quickly.

News, news all around him keeping him up to date. Always knowing who was in the wrong and why. People, the public always hiding a sin behind a facade, but Brendon saw right through. Knowing all because he saw it all made finding a victim easy. But tonight wasn't the usual reason.

Tonight, he wanted to let some stranger who had done wrong pay for the mistake Brendon made. That mistake being letting Jon walk away.

His mind blurred as it filled with hate, and before long he found himself in the usual situation. Not remembering how, he found himself seconds away from slitting a man's throat. Not caring for his forgetfulness, Brendon continued on doing what he was going to, and slashed the man's throat. Not the cleanest way to kill someone, but definitely the most satisfying way. He watched the terror in the man's eyes slowly dim to a distant glance. He watched the blood pour from the man's throat like a wonderful water fountain. His urge, hatred, disappointment, and sudden recession of the night had disappeared in this one moment. A unrealistic, sick, sadistic love filled him.

Brendon's heart that had been pumping fast and hard, was slowing down. He had been holding the stranger by the shoulder with his other hand, but he then let go. The dead body slumped down. Brendon stared at the lifeless body in awe of his work, then left the alley after he used the dead man's shirt to clean his razor.

When he came back to his room, he realized that he had only been gone for two to three hours. It only felt like a few minutes. Then again, his mind was blurred. This time mostly from the exhilaration.

Brendon dropped his razor to the floor, then walked over to his couch. He dropped himself onto it, and sighed with his eyes closed. He took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.

He was getting back into his old ways. Freedom didn't last long. He was becoming his father. That heartless monster.

I'm becoming my father.

I'm becoming my father.

I'm becoming my father.

I'm becoming my father.
...

Brendon laughed loudly.

I am my father.

.:-:.

Days went by slowly, Brendon missing Jon. Whenever they bumped into each other, Jon always stared at Brendon coldly. Brendon felt like he deserved it considering he had technically been a hypocrite about the entire thing.

In those passing days, Brendon continued to give in to his killing lust.

On one night that he came in late as usual, he decided he wanted fresh air. He went on top of the apartment building, and walked over to the edge. He rested his elbows on top of it as he looked at the other buildings. The city looked beautiful. He felt calmed. The serene moment was interrupted by the door Brendon had gone through opening. He didn't even bother to turn around. It was probably the manager coming to tell him to come in. It shocked Brendon to find out it was actually Jon who opened the door. Jon stood next to Brendon, except he leaned his back against the ledge.

"So, I saw you come in a little late. I was going to leave you alone when you went to your room, but when you came out... I got a little curious." Jon mumbled. Brendon straightened up a little to stare at Jon.

"Why do you care what I was doing." Brendon whispered cruelly.

"Because... Because!" Jon replied as he crossed his arms. "...Don't need to be so difficult."

"I'm sorry." Brendon replied feeling bad. He felt happy that Jon was curious about him.

"I'm sorry for everything. I regret saying what I did, and I regret not stopping you that night." Brendon continued.

"Yea, well... Apology accepted. But that doesn't mean I want to... date you again." Jon mumbled the last part.

"Why?!" Brendon asked loudly.

"Because, you just don't understand me! I thought you did!" Jon yelled at Brendon. He was hurt.

"Well, you thought right!" Brendon replied still speaking loud. It caught Jon's attention. "I do understand you! I'm just as fucked up as you! The only difference? You're ten times more normal than my fucked up ways! I envy your ways. I can't control what I'm becoming, the monster that I am. But you're just beautiful. That night, Jon... I was trying to deny what I really am, and I ended up hurting you. Well, I've accepted who I am, and now that I have... I miss you so goddamn much." Brendon felt a little choked up from forcing so much passion in his words. He felt like he showed Jon an opened wound, and he only hoped for compassion in return. He needed Jon to understand.

Jon was silent, and that made Brendon feel uneasy. Jon was just staring at Brendon, silently. It kept Brendon on high suspense. Was there going to be more yelling?

No.

It shocked Brendon, because Jon quickly filled the space between them, and hungrily kissed at Brendon's lips. It only took a few seconds for Brendon to understand what was going on before he wrapped his arms around Jon. They embraced each other tightly.

Jon pulled away, but since their embrace was so tight, he didn't really move that far away.

"Maybe we should take this inside..." Jon whispered against Brendon's neck. He began to kiss Brendon on the neck, making it hard for him to reply. He had his eyes closed from ecstasy.

"Okay..." Brendon managed to moan out. He had his voice back to his usual quiet self. Jon kissed Brendon's lips again, but then quickly took him by the hand, and lead him inside. Before long, they were inside of Brendon's apartment room.

The second Brendon shut the door, Jon was already all over him again. He pushed Brendon against the front door, and began kissing him again. Jon broke away, and they went to Brendon's room. They were taking their shoes off as they were reaching it. Being as quick as he was, as soon as they were inside of Brendon's room, Jon was already unbuttoning Brendon's white shirt. He pulled it off, and threw it to the ground, then forced his mouth onto Brendon's. Brendon began to walk Jon towards his bed while they were kissing. Once they reached it, Jon sat down on the edge, and ripped his own shirt off. He figured the faster clothes got off, the better. Even in the process of taking his shirt off, ( which he was taking it off quite quickly ) Brendon still managed to climb on top of him, making Jon move himself backwards onto the bed. Brendon helped him take his shirt off, and threw it to the side. Jon pulled himself closer to Brendon to kiss him with so much force as he knotted his hands into Brendon's hair. Jon pulled back, and took Brendon's glasses off.

"We wouldn't want to brake these." he whispered, as he reached over to set the glasses on the bed-side table. Brendon smiled,

"Thank you." As Jon comfortably got himself back under Brendon, he placed a hand on his cheek.

"You look really beautiful without your glasses." Jon whispered. Brendon placed one of his hands over Jon's.

"...Thanks." He blushed. "Personally, I think you're better." Jon smiled at Brendon's blushing and compliment, then slowly got closer to him for another kiss. This kiss had more passion. It was slow, and romantic. Brendon was the one to pull away this time.

"I'm sorry for everything, Jon. I really am." he whispered quieter than usual. Jon rubbed Brendon's cheek.

"Don't be." Jon replied. "I understand now. And you understand me."

"I do, more than anything." Brendon smiled happily.

"You make me more, and more sure of what I want to do now that I believe I won't be hurting you since you understand." Jon sighed happily.

"And what is that?" Brendon whispered.

"You'll see..." Jon smiled, but then began to kiss Brendon before he could reply.

Clothes came off, and bodies were set into motion instantly.

.:-:.

The next day when Brendon woke up, he happily found himself in Jon's arms. He brushed some hair out of Jon's face, and smiled. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. Brendon snuggled in Jon's arms, and watched him sleep until he finally woke up.

"Goodmorning..." Brendon whispered as Jon woke up. Jon smiled.

"Yea, I'd say this is a good morning. I woke up with you in my arms." Jon replied. Brendon blushed, and Jon laughed. He pecked Brendon on the lips.

"You're so cute when you blush easily." Jon laughed. The two began kissing again, and spent a few minutes just kissing each other. Eventually they got up, and dressed. Brendon had to leave for work, but Jon didn't, so he stayed in Brendon's apartment as he went to work.

.:-:.

When Brendon came back to his apartment after work, he didn't find Jon any where. When he went into his bathroom, he couldn't find his razor, but he found a note.

"After last night, I now know that you really do understand me. I want you to come to my apartment room. You know the number. My project is finally done, and I want you to see it. I think you'll love it.

Love, Jon"

Brendon smiled. He was happy that him and Jon had actually made up. Everything that night went so quickly, but he treasured it in his mind. So, he set the note down, left his room, and walked to Jon's.

When he reached Jon's, the door was unlocked, so Brendon opened the door. He left the door slightly open.

Upon entering the room, Brendon was not prepared for what he was seeing.

Jon had turned his entire apartment into some entire art project. The living room walls were painted with magnificent reds. All sorts of designs painted on the walls. The floor also had such interesting designs. No words could describe what the room looked like. There were barely any lights in the room, leaving a creepy affect that complimented the room nicely. Brendon then saw the doorway to Jon's room. Beautiful drapes hung over the door. Brendon walked through them slowly.

This room had the bigger affect on Brendon.

Jon's bedroom was painted exotically. Exotic plants were around the room. The room looked like something out of a fairytale. It was beautiful. No, there were no words to describe this. There was no furniture really in the room. When Brendon looked on the floor, he saw Jon laying down. He wore a beautiful, buttoned down, white shirt, and black pants. He was paler than usual. It was beautiful. Strange, and odd... yet beautiful.

Brendon walked over to Jon and kneeled next to him.

"You look dead you know." Brendon laughed quietly.

Jon remained motionless. His eyes were closed. When looking closer, Brendon noticed a bloody scar across Jon's neck.

"Did you use makeup for that?" Brendon laughed, but more worried.

It was when he saw what was in Jon's right hand when everything hit him.

"I kind of have this... weird type of fascination with... death."

"I can imagine why people might kill. Maybe it's for the beauty."

"I can without a doubt say that this project is different than most art projects. I'm putting my heart, soul, dedication, and life into it."

In Jon's right hand was Brendon's missing razor... covered in Jon's blood.

Tears came to Brendon's eyes as he stared at Jon's beautiful, but dead body. He then began to sob harder, making his body shake. While crying, he still heard someone enter Jon's apartment. The person came into Jon's beroom, and through tears, Brendon could tell it was the owner of the apartment building.

"What did you do?!" the manager screamed as he backed away from Brendon slowly.

Brendon continued to sob.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" the manager screamed louder.

Flashes of Jon's smiling face brushed Brendon's mind, forcing him to cry even harder.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?! ANSWER ME!" the manager demanded.

Brendon tried to control his crying.

"I-I-I-..." Brendon stuttered through tears.

The manager waited.

Blood was trickling so softly.

Brendon finally answered through harsh sobs,

"I... I KILLED HIM!"