Psychoses make the world go 'round...(something original, for once)
I was very very very bored with my homework, so I started playing around with a character I have for a story I'm planning out right now. So I ended up writing a drabble with my own original characters (who'd have thought?). Jeff, I know you and I talked about this story that one night at like, 2 in the morning when I wasn't quite all there; but it's about Cain (who happens to be my favorite)
So uh...tear it to pieces, yeah?
Messy, Messy
“Cain?”
The boy kneeling on the soft white carpet did not look up. Behind him in the glass gleamed the city, in the blurry light of just-before-sunrise and mist, but inside the room all the lights were blazing. They reflected off the laboratory-white walls and almost blinded Dr. Fellencoure and the fat colonel beside him--but Cain seemed perfectly at ease.
“Cain?” said Dr. Fellencoure again, a little more insistently. “Somebody is here to see you.”
“I know,” replied Cain in a voice like sandpaper that sent shivers down the colonel’s spine. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“You have to, son,” said the colonel, summoning up some nerve. “The U.S. government’s got a lot of money invested in you. We need to make sure you’re doing okay.”
Cain raised his head to stare at him with unblinking lamp-like grey eyes, the gaze of a snake assessing its next meal. The colonel took an involuntary step back.
“I don’t want to,” said Cain. “Go away, please.”
At the colonel’s side, Dr. Fellencoure was still calm and collected. But he tugged on the man’s sleeve in an urgent manner, attempting to draw him back towards the door. The colonel would not be budged; he stared down Cain in an angry manner, towering over the small and fragile form on the floor who stared at him with such blatant distaste. He would not be bullied by some goddamn kid, no matter how important or special he was rumored to be, even if he made him want to piss his pants.
“Now you listen here,” he began to rant. “I don’t particularly give a damn what you want…”
“Colonel, you really don’t want to do this,” Dr. Fellencoure said softly. “Really, it’s just better that we come back at another time.”
“Absolutely not!” huffed the colonel, his huge chest expanding like a bellows. “I will not give in the lunatic demands of a child, for Chrissakes!”
“That’s really a shame,” said Cain, beginning to climb to his feet. “I won’t talk to you if I don’t want to. You don’t really have that much authority in this project anyway; you can’t make me do anything. Especially not after you messed up.”
“Cain…” Dr. Fellencoure warned, but it was already too late.
“Who the hell are you to tell me about my job?” roared the colonel. “You snot-nosed brat.”
Cain smiled, though it was more like baring his teeth.
“If that’s the way you feel about it,” he said calmly. “Then it can’t be helped. But I won’t speak to you.”
“You-”
The colonel felt cold, suddenly, was though his heart had been plunged into a cooler of ice water. And then, a gaping nothingness in his chest and blood began to seep everywhere; he could feel it filling up in the empty spaces of his body, his lungs. Confused, he stared through dimming eyes at the boy who watched him sink to the floor with mild interest, without a speck of blood in his white hair or grey clothes-how had he done it?
The colonel was dead before he ever finished falling.
“How’d you know he had made a mistake?” Dr. Fellencoure asked after a long moment of silence.
“It was in his mind,” Cain shrugged. “Did I do a bad thing, to bring it up?” He looked up at the doctor, for approval.
“I wouldn’t do it again. You don’t really want them to know you know what they’re thinking, do you?”
“You mean you don’t want them to know.”
Dr. Fellencoure sighed. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”
“I won’t do it again.”
Cain glanced at the doctor, who stood with a pained expression on his face as he sadly surveyed the corpse on the white carpet. He crossed the room and tugged gently on the man’s lab-coat sleeve, carefully avoiding treading on the ex-colonel.
“I’m getting better at it,” said Cain quietly. “Aren’t I? I didn’t make a mess this time. I just…negated the heart.”
“No,” Dr. Fellencoure replied slowly, reaching out to pat Cain’s head absentmindedly. “No, you didn’t. But I wish they’d stop sending us the people they want to get rid of.”
"Oh, well," Cain shrugged. "He wouldn't be a very good test of my abilities if he weren't expendable!"
He smiled up at the doctor, and turned to climb back over the body and return to his book, losing himself in the words and leaving Dr. Fellencoure to clean up his mess as the sun rose on the horizon, spilling red light into the room.
Notes: I seriously need to finish planning this damn thing and just write it all, but I fear it is going to be like, novel-long and that makes me hesitate. Except that it's nagging me to put stuff on paper; especially Cain. I always did like my unstable characters best...
Out of curiousity, the test for Cain was how neatly he could kill the colonel. I have no idea if I made that clear enough or not, but I don't think I did.
So uh...tear it to pieces, yeah?
Messy, Messy
“Cain?”
The boy kneeling on the soft white carpet did not look up. Behind him in the glass gleamed the city, in the blurry light of just-before-sunrise and mist, but inside the room all the lights were blazing. They reflected off the laboratory-white walls and almost blinded Dr. Fellencoure and the fat colonel beside him--but Cain seemed perfectly at ease.
“Cain?” said Dr. Fellencoure again, a little more insistently. “Somebody is here to see you.”
“I know,” replied Cain in a voice like sandpaper that sent shivers down the colonel’s spine. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“You have to, son,” said the colonel, summoning up some nerve. “The U.S. government’s got a lot of money invested in you. We need to make sure you’re doing okay.”
Cain raised his head to stare at him with unblinking lamp-like grey eyes, the gaze of a snake assessing its next meal. The colonel took an involuntary step back.
“I don’t want to,” said Cain. “Go away, please.”
At the colonel’s side, Dr. Fellencoure was still calm and collected. But he tugged on the man’s sleeve in an urgent manner, attempting to draw him back towards the door. The colonel would not be budged; he stared down Cain in an angry manner, towering over the small and fragile form on the floor who stared at him with such blatant distaste. He would not be bullied by some goddamn kid, no matter how important or special he was rumored to be, even if he made him want to piss his pants.
“Now you listen here,” he began to rant. “I don’t particularly give a damn what you want…”
“Colonel, you really don’t want to do this,” Dr. Fellencoure said softly. “Really, it’s just better that we come back at another time.”
“Absolutely not!” huffed the colonel, his huge chest expanding like a bellows. “I will not give in the lunatic demands of a child, for Chrissakes!”
“That’s really a shame,” said Cain, beginning to climb to his feet. “I won’t talk to you if I don’t want to. You don’t really have that much authority in this project anyway; you can’t make me do anything. Especially not after you messed up.”
“Cain…” Dr. Fellencoure warned, but it was already too late.
“Who the hell are you to tell me about my job?” roared the colonel. “You snot-nosed brat.”
Cain smiled, though it was more like baring his teeth.
“If that’s the way you feel about it,” he said calmly. “Then it can’t be helped. But I won’t speak to you.”
“You-”
The colonel felt cold, suddenly, was though his heart had been plunged into a cooler of ice water. And then, a gaping nothingness in his chest and blood began to seep everywhere; he could feel it filling up in the empty spaces of his body, his lungs. Confused, he stared through dimming eyes at the boy who watched him sink to the floor with mild interest, without a speck of blood in his white hair or grey clothes-how had he done it?
The colonel was dead before he ever finished falling.
“How’d you know he had made a mistake?” Dr. Fellencoure asked after a long moment of silence.
“It was in his mind,” Cain shrugged. “Did I do a bad thing, to bring it up?” He looked up at the doctor, for approval.
“I wouldn’t do it again. You don’t really want them to know you know what they’re thinking, do you?”
“You mean you don’t want them to know.”
Dr. Fellencoure sighed. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”
“I won’t do it again.”
Cain glanced at the doctor, who stood with a pained expression on his face as he sadly surveyed the corpse on the white carpet. He crossed the room and tugged gently on the man’s lab-coat sleeve, carefully avoiding treading on the ex-colonel.
“I’m getting better at it,” said Cain quietly. “Aren’t I? I didn’t make a mess this time. I just…negated the heart.”
“No,” Dr. Fellencoure replied slowly, reaching out to pat Cain’s head absentmindedly. “No, you didn’t. But I wish they’d stop sending us the people they want to get rid of.”
"Oh, well," Cain shrugged. "He wouldn't be a very good test of my abilities if he weren't expendable!"
He smiled up at the doctor, and turned to climb back over the body and return to his book, losing himself in the words and leaving Dr. Fellencoure to clean up his mess as the sun rose on the horizon, spilling red light into the room.
Notes: I seriously need to finish planning this damn thing and just write it all, but I fear it is going to be like, novel-long and that makes me hesitate. Except that it's nagging me to put stuff on paper; especially Cain. I always did like my unstable characters best...
Out of curiousity, the test for Cain was how neatly he could kill the colonel. I have no idea if I made that clear enough or not, but I don't think I did.