(no subject)
It was a very tired and bloody body that collapsed on the motel room bed. It looked as if he had actually bathed in it, but not a drop of the now sticky fluid was his. And what wasn't on him covered the walls of the mansion he'd left not long before.
[The party hadn't been very big, less than two dozen teens. It had made crashing the party that much easier. He'd stood outside the french doors for nearly an hour before activating the trap device he'd bought in another universe.]
He hadn't even planned on going farther than the Nexus tonight, but after what he'd seen there, heard, he had needed to hurt something. He wasn't sure what had caused the anger, or if he even wanted to know.
[The collar, that fucker was wearing a collar like a well trained dog. Talking, happy, practically radiating contentment about his fucking life. Just like the other one was. Happy and content and ignorant to what was running around beneath their noses.]
Sighing, Jason sat up and pulled off what was left of his shirt. He was lying to himself, he knew what had pissed him off, had pushed him over the edge.
He just didn't know how to rid himself of it.
[He could hear their hearts racing, breathing in ragged pants as they fought to keep quiet, to keep him from finding them. He would find them though, one by one. Working his way from room to room, he would pull them kicking and screaming from their hiding places and laugh as they begged. ]
Because no matter how much he claimed not to be them, he was. They were part of him, not just in dna, but in memories. In all that his memories were, they existed. Their needs and wants and desires, along with memories of that tamed fucker in the collar, of what he had. It was all there in his head.
[They had no idea that their fear made them and their blood smell so much sweeter to him right now. That their screams urged him on, made him that much more eager to sink teeth into flesh and skin and tear it apart. It was only moments before that last heart stilled that his beast calmed, that the anger and unwanted need and desire was buried deep once more.]
Falling back on the bed, he stared at the ceiling for a bit, almost completely still. He was numb now, tired. That itch for more buried for a little while longer at least.
Because he was a clone, a spare. He didn't deserve more than what he had been given.
And it was still in him, part of him, no matter how much he fought and tried to deny it, to force it away and pretend it didnt' exist. That want, that weakness to have someone come along and 'burn him up'.