[FIC] (fin)*
Also known as the one I've been complaining about all day. Eh.
Title: (fin)*
Author: [Mars] (real name retracted)
Wordcount: ~1,065, not including notes and scene titles, as well as this header.
Warnings: See note. Also, mild mention of gore, timeline slightly out of order.
Other notes: Inspired - and scene titles taken from - Anberlin’s (fin)*. It’s recommended, though not needed, that you listen to that while reading this; it can be found here (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SvxD_toISIc)
(fin*)
Two green eyes stare at a dead body, the murder weapon slipping from their hand, twisting and shifting in the air.
could you kill, could you kill me
A tug of a smirk pulls at the corner of those perfect lips. “Never seen you before.”
“You either.”
Their bodies combine later in the night, colours smashing together, repelling each other in the tangle of sweaty limbs.
if this world was on fire
Stan stares at him. “You okay?”
“’Course.”
It’s a lie, the first of many to spill from those honeyed lips.
and nothing was left but hope or desire
He hears his name being chanted in the night by the rustling sheets. Kim, Kim, Kim…
and take all that i could bring forth, is this hell
The hair’s grown longer now, flecks of grey between the copper.
“You again.”
“’Course.”
It’s no different that night.
or am i on the floor over-desperate?
He feels eyes on him, the back of his head, the small of his back. He shifts, turning around the corner, though they’re not leaving.
Someone pokes him. He shudders at the touch, though when he turns, he lays his eyes upon empty space.
He walks into the heat of a fire. The girl at the checkout’s staring at him as well, passing through his items with a distracted hand.
Jittery ones reach out to take it, snatching and running away back to the safety of his car.
hold hands streaming of blood again?
A black eye stares back at him. He crosses his legs, reaching out, pressing his thumb into the plant.
Red blinks back at him. He removes his thumb, and it stops, though he’s quick to decide privacy means more than red.
The thumb gets pressed over the camera once again.
guard my dreams, figure this out
Thumbs hook through the holes in his clothes, pulling the jeans over jutting hipbones. He looks down to see the knees slashed away.
A scream cracks his throat, fracturing his brain, time stopping with the noise.
it’s me on my own. helpless, hurting, hell
That morning, he refuses to get up, instead snuggling deeper into the now-familiar sweaty arm thrown over him.
take this and all of me
Flames lick at the back of his head, setting his nerves alive with the heat. He throws his head back, a wail tearing through the back of his mouth, fire flooding through him, transferring from one body to the next.
will you stay strong as you promised?
He longs to see Stan now. The cool blue eyes are the only things that drag him back to reality, douse the flames of insanity setting up in his brain.
take what you will, what you will
A pair of chapped lips press to his own. “Miss me?”
He lies again. “’Course.”
widows and orphans aren’t hard to find
The images on the TV reflect off his tan skin, the sound grating against his own. He can’t help but stare at the headline across the body, flashing in loud, angry, offensive, hot red.
Attack on man, eyes gouged outin park.
you’ve already lost four little souls from your life
This time, when his thumbs find the holes, he has to lift the garments up, make sure they’re the right ones.
sympathy’s better than having to tell you the truth
Stan turns to him, eyes covered with black patches. Empty sockets lie behind there, and the thought makes Kim queasy.
He shuts his ears to Stan’s pleas, turns his back to the world.
youwish it would hurry up and kill you
The bird at work escapes, he hears the next month. Or day, or week. Flew out of its cage, before being mauled by a cat outside, killed.
if this is salvation, i can show you the trembling
His watch has broken. He stares at the second hand, moving insistently between the 44 and 45, trying to push forward, break its boundaries.
you’ll just have to trust me. i’m scared
There’s a text on his phone. Tonight.
Kim doesn’t bother asking how he got the number.
honey, you left behind
He wonders what is normal. The thought fuels itself, running off the fire, before his brain splits into two halves again.
They grate against each other, filings of memories dropping into the blackness that’s left.
something that will mean everything right before you die
His hands are wrapped around his torso, trying to stuff the maggots flooding out of his navel back in him. The man doesn’t care, still holding him, still kissing him.
“Can’t you hear me screaming?”
He never spoke a word.
ripping and breaking and tearing apart
For the first time, he smiles, truly smiles. Cold brushes against him, wet grass at his ankles, the girl’s screams pushing into his ears.
He slips away before the attackers see him, back into the darkness.
this is not heaven
The mirror reflects red eyes, burning.
this is my hell
He realizes he doesn’t know the others name. It’s whimpered out in a moment of ecstasy. “David, it’s David.”
He doesn’t give his own.
you remember the house
Five movies drop from his slender fingers, all marked with horror, blood spattered across the covers. He’s lost track of which is in the image and which is his own.
told you and the devil to both just leave me alone
Another camera. He lets it stay there this time, even watching it in moments of boredom.
we’re not questioning god
David turns up at his house. He asks no questions, the fire melting his lips together as fingers tug at clothes, frantic gasps and whimpers filling the small house, limbs sweating once again.
just those he chose to carry on his cross
He’s offered to have his watch fixed, for free.
He declined.
we’re no better, you’ll see
Video footage from work - his old work, he reminds himself, he’s jobless now - plays across his TV screen. He pauses it, marking out the best places to cut, watching as maggots squirm out of David’s ears, flopping onto the disgusting covering they call skin.
just all of us, the lost causes
He’s looking forward to tonight. Another proper smile passes over his face, though the fire soon claims that as well. He welcomes David in, more forward, affectionate than he’s been for the past eight months.
(fin)*
Two green eyes stare at the body below him, chubby arms twisting in the sheets. Maggots flood out of the stomach, sucking up the sticky blood covering the rotten flesh. He wraps his fingers around a lighter, and presses the flame to the ends of David’s hair, watching as they lick against his scalp.
The knife falls from his hands, twisting and shifting the air, covered by blue and red police sirens.