You're Dressed To Kill [2/2]
Title: You’re Dressed To Kill [2/2]
Author: wesaysummerrr
POV: Third
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys. This is completely fake…a little something I thought of, considering the time of year. Title belongs to All Time Low - Jasey Rae. Cut belongs to Stone Sour - Say You'll Haunt Me.
Author Notes: okay, so this is the second part of this two part Halloween fic. I really enjoyed writing this, so, happy reading you cheeky devils you.
here's my tumblr.
Part One.
30th October
Alex walked through the bustling shopping centre uneasily. It was the 30th today. One day away from Halloween, and one day until they held up their end of the deal and went to this party.
Cutting through town was the easiest way to Jack’s, which was where he was headed. Where else? Jamming his ear buds into his ears he scrolled down the list of songs on his ipod until he found something that fit his mood. Dark. As he walked past the endless row of shop windows, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of being watched. Glancing into the windows as a precaution, his eyes met several tacky, eyeless rubber masks that hung from hooks in the window grimacing at him, the eye sockets black and empty, following his movements. His stomach twisted as his eyes raked over the cheap decorations that littered the shop displays; rubber spiders and plastic pumpkins that were lit up by a painfully cheap red light bulb in the centre, cackling animatronic witches raised an arm to shake a poorly put together broom at him, motion sensitive eyes watching him.
It was all too fake. The commercial industry had destroyed the real meaning behind the holiday that was creeping up on them. That this was the one night throughout the year where the boundaries between this world and the spirit world were at their thinnest. This was the time when superstition ran riot and the one time when people could allow their imagination to develop without being labelled as immature. But that had been forsaken by persuading people to tape a green nose to their face and encourage children to demand confectionery, for the sake of a few more coins in someone’s pocket. An unwarranted anger flowed through him as he thought about this, suddenly sick of everything. He frowned, mouth setting into a hard line as he strode on.
But Alex couldn’t deny how uneasy he was. He couldn’t put a finger on what drew his eyes to narrow at the stereotypical decorations, and tightened his fingers into fists in his pockets. There had never been a Halloween until now where he was, in all honesty, scared. The unknown had always been something that unnerved him, and now there was a notion in the back of his head, tainting the usual excitement for the holiday.
Mentally shaking himself, he was dragged back to where he was as he rebounded off a guy’s shoulder as he walked into him. “Sorry,” he muttered. But his apology turned sharply into rebellion as something like “watch were you’re going, fag,” was shot back at him, the admittedly larger built guy’s face set into disgust.
Alex turned to walk backwards and held up both middle fingers, yelling, “Yeah? Fuck you, pretentious bastard.”
Ignoring the sea of faces that swivelled in his direction, accompanied by disapproving mutters that burned his ears with anger, Alex pulled his hood over his head and turned the volume on his ipod up, suggesting what society should go and do to itself.
Pushing past the mass of bodies that had clustered in front of him, he rolled his eyes as he saw that a space had been cleared for the sort of performance that had his insides cringing away from the awful accents, stage make-up and crowd inclusion. Slipping through the gaps, he wove his way through the crowd and dodged the numerous children that wrapped themselves in between his legs and threatened to better acquaint his face with the floor. Biting back a string of expletives that his mother would cry at, Alex rolled his eyes after stepping over another child that was sat on the floor and breathed out a sigh of relief as he fell out into the open air.
Forcing a bounce into his step, Alex pushed anything but the warmth of the sun on his face and the thought of seeing Jack - after apologising first for acting like an utter dick yesterday at practise. He’d switched his phone off, unplugged the land line from the wall and retreated to the confines of his room where he’d turned on his stereo and punished the speakers with the sheer volume for several hours before he could calm down enough to not destroy anything. The lyrics that he had written down the previous day on three sheets of lined paper were worse for wear - they now lay in tatters at the bottom of his rubbish bin, shredded by furious fingers.
-
Joey laid eyes the figure that walked angrily through the mass of people, red hood drawn over his head and white headphones protruding from the neckline of his t-shirt. A grim smile exposed his teeth as he ran through his head the number of people that would his house tomorrow, under the impression that he was throwing a party.
His head jerked right as he caught a whisper of sound behind him, and his eyes glinted as they locked onto the black of his school mate, his own black eyes wildly excited and a endless pool of hate for this place, and all those that infested it. She stepped lightly over to him, hands clasping several shopping bags that groaned from the weight of their contents.
“Got everything?” His voice rasped, dehydration the only way to heighten his senses. The faint smile that pulled one side of her mouth up answered for her. Motioning that they should go, he took one of the bags from her and looked inside, careful not to dislodge anything.
Yeah. Some party.
-
Zack made his way up the paved path that led to the front of the house number 46. His acoustic guitar swung on his shoulders as he pressed the bell, hearing the chimes echo behind the door, and he gripped the bag that he carried tighter.
A moment later and his eyes fell on Jack, black hair half-straightened and mouth filled with foamy toothpaste, purple toothbrush working over his already white teeth. Zack smiled.
“Morning, Jack.” Jack grunted in reply, eyes still stiff and glazed from sleep. He stepped over the threshold of the house, following Jack’s skinny form as he meandered sluggishly into the kitchen, before pointing to the fridge and grunting something inarticulate through the mouthful of toothpaste, not bothering to stop scrubbing the toothbrush over his teeth.
“I’m not hungry,” Zack replied, dumping the bag onto the kitchen table and removing the guitar from his back, resting it up against one of the table legs. Jack uttered a single syllable answer and lifted his shoulders in a shrug, before turning around and walking up the stairs to the bathroom. Wandering over to a cabinet, Zack grabbed a glass and twisted the faucet on the tap until it ran cold, and filled the glass. Taking a mouthful of water, he kicked off his shoes and went into the lounge, pondering whether or not to flick the television or not whilst he waited for Jack to sort himself out. But going on past experience, he could be hours yet.
The decision was made for him as he heard the scuffling of feet on the paving slab the other side of the door, seconds before the doorbell went. Placing the glass down onto the kitchen table as he passed it, Zack drew open the door a moment later to greet Rian, who also carried a bag in his right hand.
“Alright, man?” He grinned and stepped inside as Zack left him to close the door. Rian’s eyes fell on the bag that was already on the kitchen table as he too rested his there, a soft clinking coming from within the structured material depths.
“See you’ve stocked up already too,” he pointed at the bag that he presumed to be Zack’s, before glancing around to try and locate Jack.
Zack picked up his glass and downed the rest of the contents. “Naturally. Oh, and if you’re looking for Jack he’s upstairs looking at himself in the mirror. Don’t get your hopes up of seeing him for some time yet.”
The other groaned, running a hand over his head. “Oh, really? Great.” Then he thought about it. “Then again, he did say that Alex was coming over, so there’ll be extra pampering going on I suspect.” He grinned, but there was edge to it, something other than good nature flickering in his eyes. He stepped toward the fridge and pulled out the makings of a sandwich. “Want one?”
Zack shook his head. “Nah, not hungry.” Jack emerged down the stairs at that moment, and both boys gaped in mock dismay. “Whoa, hang on there Jack, don’t think I had time to blink.” Rian laughed from the kitchen, before he appeared holding a sizeable ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich.
“Fuck you guys,” Jack smirked, “it’s my house, and I’ll spend all my time on myself if I want to.” Rian clucked his tongue as he threw himself onto one of the sofas, taking a massive bite from the sandwich he cradled almost protectively and spoke thickly around it.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Alex is coming over, would it? All this preening?” Well, that’s what Zack assumed he said, because what actually came out of his mouth sounded more like, “It woodn have nythink oo do with the fac that Alexs ish commin’ over, would id? Ll thid preenin’?” Zack couldn’t help but notice the underlying darkness in his voice - the kind that ruined people, and spoiled even the most beautiful with jealousy. Zack frowned. That wasn’t like Rian, at all.
Jack raised his eyebrows, picking up on the tone in the other’s voice as well. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you because you were talking with your mouth full. Which is a disgusting habit.” His gaze was cool as he stared down the boy sat on the sofa. “And you need to sort out that envy, Rian. It’s not good for you.”
Just as Rian offered a comeback, his finger pointed toward Jack, the doorbell cut through the conversation. Jack darted toward the door to answer, and Rian muttered under his breath, sinking further down the sofa. “Speak of the Devil.”
-
Alex trudged resolutely down the roads that led him to Jack’s house, mouthing along to the songs that filled his ears and drowned out the strange unease that had been following him around. He felt better now, the tension that had filled him this morning having since faded away until it no longer twisted and festered in his stomach.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse as he had walked on, the sunshine that lapped at his skin earlier had vanished and was replaced by an thunderous looking sky, a chill wind whipping his hair back from his face and stinging his cheeks. He wrapped his favourite red hoody tighter around himself, wishing silently that he’d worn more layers. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he watched his feet as they carried down the road that he must have worn a groove into by now, the amount of times he had walked down it. The quiet of the suburban estate eased the thoughts that raged around his head and he turned down into the first close on the left, that lead into a cul-de-sac, on which Jack’s house was the furthest away.
But something caught his eye. A movement in the darkened bushes at the end of the street, the place that was overshadowed by a canopy of trees. He stared for a minute, convinced that it wasn’t just his eyes playing tricks on him, roving the dark greens and blacks as they merged into from the intensity in which he stared.
Shaking his head and continuing onward, he spotted the red Renault that he knew to be Zack’s outside Jack’s house. Frowning, he picked up the pace and pulled the buds from his ears, muting the screaming that had begun to hurt his ears. Stepping up the path, he pressed the bell on the front door and took a step backward, scuffing his feet and looking down. He really hated awkward apologies. His pride got in the way of making them normally, too self-aware to be able to admit that he was wrong. But this was different. This was Jack - to whom he owed everything.
The door swung inward as a voice sounded the other side of the door. That was odd, it sounded like there were more people than just Jack. Frown deepening, he glanced back to the car that looked like Zack’s parked on the drive, and it clicked.
He groaned.
“Alex!” Jack crowed, eyes reduced to adorable crescents from the size of his smile. And despite the sudden self-consciousness that had him twirling the strings of his hoody in between his fingers, and tightened the knot in his stomach, he couldn’t help but smile at the other boy. His hair was styled to sit just how Alex liked it, messy yet perfectly organised, and the shirt he wore only emphasised the warm chocolate of his eyes. But the unnerving glint in his eye still hadn’t vanished, as he’d expected it to - Jack was probably the most horny guy he’d ever met, but his mood swings passed. Normally - instead it had intensified.
“Hey,” he started, shifting on the spot. “I wanted to apologise for being such a prick yesterday, I didn’t mean it.” He averted Jack’s eyes, a flush warming his cheeks as he saw another figure behind Jack, standing in the living room. He stopped, voice failing. Because although he thought Zack might be here, he hadn’t expected Rian to be here too. “Y-you have other people here,” he trailed off, fingers picking the string he held apart.
“It’s only Zack and Rian, dude. What’s with the nerves?” Alex opened his mouth to defend himself, a little louder and fiercer than necessary. But before angry words left his mouth, Jack’s head titled slightly as he caught the comment that was meant to go unheard, and picked up one of the shoes that lay next to the door and chucked it to roughly where Rian was. Arching perfectly, it dropped just at the right time and a muffled exclamation told Jack that he’d hit his mark. Turning back to Alex, he smiled again, this time looking like a little kid that had got away with something he knew he shouldn’t do.
“Come in, then. Or did you plan on just standing on the doorstep for the duration of your visit?” Stepping backwards, Jack made sure that Alex was in and shut the door before he launched himself onto the sofa from behind, catching its inhabitant off guard and eliciting several squawks of shock as he fell onto Rian and tumbled off the edge of the sofa, making sure that his fist connected with the other boy’s arm once or twice.
“Serves you right. Should have kept that ugly jealousy to yourself, eh?” Jack growled, a warning to his friend that Alex didn’t need this.
-
Zack stood there, helpless as he watched the scene before him unfold. Everyone had been acting out of character lately, what with Rian sulking and muttering venomously to himself when he thought that no one was looking, ugly thoughts tainting the usually so vibrant happiness that kept everyone going on a rough day. Jack was even more flirty than normal, hands roaming absently as he fidgeted and shifted on the sofa, eyes locked on the brown haired boy that sat next to him, whose own expression was flickered with something else.
Of course, Zack was the only one that didn’t feel any different. He was obviously just impenetrable when it came to outside influences that could disrupt the balance of someone’s personality. He smirked a little at that, the wave of confidence suddenly catching him off guard.
That was just it. He wasn’t confident. The state of his childhood had ensured that his self-esteem had been beaten down until it was below ground level, with little hope of ever resurfacing to its former glory. Because he had been confident, once. But the constant demoralising comments, snide remarks and jibes that were repeated so often that he started to believe them had caused him to become so introvert his parents had appointed him to a counsellor.
His eyes widened as he considered how badly he’d been thinking of the others recently, and his body tensed as he sensed that something else was at play here. He hadn’t suddenly sprouted this new confidence from somewhere, because that wasn’t something that just happened. He reflected on how he’d been trying to make himself feel better than his best friends - something that is unquestionably uncharacteristic. If anyone were asked about what he was like, they would utter words like quiet, thoughtful, modest…Definitely not confident, or proud. Because that was how he was feeling. Proud. Unhealthily so.
His head jerked upward as he vaguely heard his name being called. “Zack, you alright? You haven’t moved in like, ten minutes.”
His eyes fell on the brown eyes of the speaker, his dark eyebrows angled downward slightly in the faint frown that had become increasingly prominent as the days progressed. He shook himself, feeling that same rush of weird confidence trigger a response. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
Alex shrugged, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. “Just checking, no need to rip my head off.” But when he re-opened his eyes, there was something different. They were darker and their normal kindness had nearly evaporated, and the way they caught in the light made them look almost metallic. He noticed the same sheen in Jack’s and Rian’s eyes, his own widening as the surge of confidence vanished and he was left feeling like himself: small, like a voice that’s screaming in a crowded room, but no one can hear him. Glancing over to the three guys on the same sofa, tainted eyes locked onto the television screen from which a muffled warbling emitted, Zack stood up, hearing the rush of thoughts bursting into his head as several things became clear to him.
Something was affecting them. Something that weren’t aware of, that was changing their fundamental qualities without consent or choice. And yet he could still feel himself changing underneath his own nose; the way he walked to the bathroom, and the easy smirk that tilted his lips up as he saw the way Jack’s hand slid a little further up Alex’s thigh, the flash in Alex’s metallic eyes and the faint scowl Rian threw towards them both, shifting a little further away.
--
30th October 11:45PM
It was later that night that Alex woke up from a nightmare, cold sweat saturating his bed sheets as his shaking body jolted upright, eyes flinging wide open and a gasp of horror leaving him breathless. Propping himself up, he wiped a hand over his face, breathing hard and blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness of the room.
Swallowing uneasily, the scenes that had jerked him awake flashed in front of his eyes, like clips of a movie that he never wanted to watch. Flinging the moist sheets from his cold body, he navigated through the junk on the floor of his bedroom and into the bathroom, groping for the light pull and then throwing a hand up to shield his eyes as a bright yellow light attacked them. Shuffling over to the mirror, he inspected his reflection; and noticed a difference almost immediately. It was his eyes. Not the dark circles underneath that made him look like the living dead, nor the numerous tiny blood vessels scrawled across the whites. It was his pupils. They were darker than ever before, his eyes having always been a warm brown now glared back at him, as black as the night sky outside. The set of his eyebrows cast them into shadow and only increased the way they caught and reflected some of the light, like a cat’s. His hair was dampened from the cold sweat that beaded on his brow, darkening the brown strands and exaggerating the goose bumps that were raised on his stark white skin.
He couldn’t explain the feeling that suddenly overwhelmed him as he recognised the change in himself. It wasn’t confusion, nor was it panic, or fear or suspicion. It was more complex than any emotion that could be described in human words. It swelled in his chest, filling him with the sensation of an electric shock running through his body, setting his veins alight and jolting his heart until it was a physical pain. He gasped, holding his chest as the feeling increased, a sense of accomplishment washing through him. But it wasn’t his. He didn’t feel accomplished, nowhere near. Anger suddenly swelled in his stomach, something that had become all too often. But Alex realised what was different this time - he couldn’t control it. Up until now, the foreign emotion had simply been dealt with through gnashing his teeth together and yelling a few choice swear words.
But now, he didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t control the sudden, all consuming rage that ate away at his insides until he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. Gasping and twitching his head to the cupboard above his head, his arms jerked to knock into the handle and twist it - a pause as his face screwed up at the pain in his chest, as the something that had been overshadowing him grew. Clenching his jaw and removing one hand from around his torso, he fumbled blindly around the shelf until his fingers slid over what he looked for. Fighting all the time, and half-blind as his eyes struggled to flutter close, he brought the slim package that pricked his skin down and unfurled his hands, grabbing off the protective wrapping and dropping the object into his hand. It lay in his palm, cutting into the meaty part of his thumb. His eyes flicked back up to stare in denial at the person that mirrored his movements, the possessed eyes streaming with tears.
A flash of bright silver followed, a red line appearing on his forearm as he tried to release the intense building of emotions within him. He gasped in relief as he felt the black cloud ooze from his forearm, blazing angrily as the skin protested. His knees gave way from the pain, and his black eyes rolled back into his head as he drowned in the waves that washed out his consciousness.
----
31st October 9:51AM
Jack woke with a start, the sunshine streaming through his curtains. He felt…strange. Like something was pulling his attention to something he was too ignorant to see. The sunlight that washed lazily over his skin brought with it the chill of anticipation, and something else. There was a dull ache in his chest, like the aftermath of an attack of heartburn, which he rubbed a hand over uncomfortably, frowning. His mind felt clouded, driven into a state that was unfamiliar to him.
Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he realised what day it was today, flicking his gaze to the calendar that hung on the wall opposite. Halloween. A smile cracked his lips and exposed his teeth, as he swung himself out of bed. But then he realised he had a problem. Biting back an involuntary groan as the fabric of his boxers and the bed sheets caused friction on the problem that tented in his boxers, he stood up carefully and hastily made his way to the en suite bathroom in his bedroom, locking the door behind him.
Re-appearing shortly he ruffled his hair as he tried to work with it, standing in front of the full-length mirror that was on his wardrobe. Smiling a little, he noticed that his eyes were darker. His expression shifted into bemusement, before dismissal turned his mouth down as he shook it off. Maybe it was just the light. And besides there were far more pressing matters to be dealt with, the constant rumbling of his stomach for one. Pulling on a pair of jeans and yanking a t-shirt over his head, he drew the wardrobe door toward him a fraction and peeked inside, making sure that everything was still in order for tonight.
---
12:09AM
Alex felt his body shaking, a voice drifting on the edge of his consciousness, distorted and vague. Something warm and firm rested on his shoulder, causing the tremors that shook the sleep from his mind. Gradually coming to, the urgent voice of his mother became clearer and clearer, repeating his name over and over again until she saw his eyes open.
“Alex…Alex…Alex!” Starting as he blinked his eyes open, he found himself on the cold, tiled bathroom floor, arms and legs twisted around him, having fallen asleep or unconscious to the floor. Then he remembered. Dread had settled in his stomach as the remembered pain in chest widened his eyes, and he held a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned to look up at the woman standing over him. Frowning at the light, he shifted to prop himself up on his elbow as he stretched his cramped, stiff muscles. But then he saw the angry, swollen red line, and hissed as he moved into a position that sent pain shooting up his forearm. Jerking his arm so that it was behind his bare torso, he tried to smile encouragingly at his mother, whose expression was twisted into one filled with worry, her eyebrows pulled tight together.
“What are you doing in here, Alexander?” She fussed, scraping back his hair to place a hand on his clammy forehead. He squirmed out of her reach, scowling.
“I’m not a kid, mum. I must have slept-walked, or something.” He knew that lying to her was wrong, and a twinge of guilt shadowed his forehead, but it was for the best. If he told her what really happened, she would overreact. But as he shifted backward, his forearm bent slightly, and her eyes were practically dragged to the several red lines there, fresh and oozing still.
“What’s that, Alex? On your arm?” Her eyebrows pulled down further, suspicion creeping into the tone of her voice. As soon as Alex saw the slight change in her expression he knew she’d seen. Struggling to his feet, he held his arms casually behind his back, trying to not make it obvious that he didn’t want her to get a good look. His stomach tightened as another lie shaped his lips. This was wrong. He hated lying to her.
“What? There’s nothing on my arm,” he widened his eyes and tried to fix his expression into one he hoped was believable, crossing his fingers behind his back. She only frowned deeper for a moment, trying to peek around him as he stood there. Trying not to flinch at the stabbing pain he moved his arm further behind his back, pressing it into the other so there was no chance of her seeing anything. Tutting, she took steps backward and turned away before saying,
“Jack called, by the way. He wants to make sure that everything is still good for tonight. You’ll ring him back?” with that, she left Alex standing there, his gut writhing at the thought of this party tonight, head spinning as he remembered everything before he blacked out, and the sinking suspicion that something bigger was coming.
---
2:24PM
Rian sat upright and threw the empty bottle into the bin across the room, uttering a satisfied grunt as it dropped into the bin with a clang as plastic hit metal. Grimacing at the faint swaying of the room as he sunk back into the sofa, he cursed himself; cursed this degrading jealousy that drove him to start drinking hours before the party. And yeah, people would argue that he was too young to feel like this, but emotions weren’t on an age restriction, where they? A person at his age could feel the same things that an older person might. He was only eighteen, but some things just didn’t get the meaning of the recklessness of youth. Some things tied you down before you thought you would ever be ready.
He knew it was way too early to even be giggly from alcohol - and he was past that stage - but he really didn’t know how else to deal with this. With the crushing knowledge that he wasn’t ever going to be good enough for the one person that brought a smile to his face. That he would never get looked at the way he looked at someone else.
What he was also trying to escape from was the pounding in his head, and the intervals of stabbing in his chest. His head was swimming nicely somewhere above the rest of his body now, so the bizarre feelings that had troubled him for the past week had been dealt with. Sometimes drinking until he felt like he might have been dead was the best way of dealing with problems.
---
5:54PM
The skies had just began to darken, and Zack put in a couple more push-ups before he sat back and wiped his brow with the towel next to him. Taking a swig of water from the water bottle that lay on the exercise mat, he stood up and relished at the vitality that soaked his senses from working out after a day of monotony. He felt, refreshed. The dizzy spell that had affected him earlier was long gone, and he felt like he could take on the world, and win.
Throwing the towel into the wash bin that stood in the entrance of the gym changing rooms, he returned to his locker and took out the change of clothes for the journey home. He would shower there, not one to expose all in the public showers, where anyone could be. Ignoring the sense of foreboding that seemed to follow him from the gym to the lockers, he took out his clothes and removed his sweats and vest top, before tugging on a clean shirt and jeans.
---
7:47PM
It was time. Alex stood up a little shakily, tongue poking out as he re-dressed his arm so as not to let anything irritate it. Of course, had this not been Halloween, the roughly applied bandage would have caused suspicion. But thankfully, he had that covered. Literally.
Struggling into the costume that he’d spent most of his spare time slaving over, despite the reluctance to actually attend this party, he applied the suitable make-up and styled his hair accordingly. Careful not to smudge any of his make-up as he put liberal amounts of the hair gel that doesn’t leave a residue into his hair. Standing back and looking in the full-length mirror, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of a smile pull at his lips. Despite the weird possessed look in his worryingly black eyes - that he purposefully ignored and tried not to think anything of, even though that was the worst possible thing he could do - he didn’t look half bad. In fact, he looked pretty damn good. This scarecrow idea had been a good one.
Descending the stairs, he glanced over at the clock that hung on the wall. 7:52PM. The party was at half eight, and he hadn’t eaten. But he didn’t think his stomach could handle food, despite this meaning the alcohol that he had stashed in his car earlier in the day would go straight to his head. Then he reconsidered. Maybe that was a good thing, he could forget the worry that gnawed at his insides and tugged his heart, filling him with a dread that wasn’t just for him. It was for Jack. Stupidly, he was fixated with the thought that something might happen to his boyfriend; and even though they fought and bitched, he loved him. Really. He could be completely himself around Jack, and that hadn’t happened before.
Realising he was chewing his lip, a nervous habit he couldn’t shift, he walked over to the sofa and sat down, careful not to dislodge any part of his costume. A second later his mother walked in, holding the sandwich that was her dinner and a mug of tea, from which a whirling plume of steam rose in delicate swirls. He smiled and half-scowled , as she mimed shock at his costume and hurried over to sit next to him.
“Alex! It looks great, did you make that?” Talking to her eased the mayhem inside of him. But despite this, he felt the slow anger that had been a part of him over the last couple of days building, reaching a climax from which there would be no return. If he was honest, he was scared of himself. What this anger would make him do; where it was coming from. Plastering a smile on his face, he answered her, eyeing the sandwich that she was holding.
“Yeah, thanks,” he paused, frowning. “Mum, you can’t just eat that.”
She shifted, holding the deep fill sandwich protectively and taking a large bite, chewing and swallowing before she answered. “Why, not? I can eat what I want.”
Alex frowned deeper, feeling the anger building in his stomach, an odd, hollow sensation in his chest. Like his heart had been scooped out without any pain, or him even knowing. “Because you need to eat more, it’s not healthy.”
He knew he was contradicting himself, and that point was probably going to be pointed out by his mother at any moment, but that was all part of being a teenager. You didn’t take your own advice. She pulled away from the sandwich, eyebrow quirking upwards.
“That’s rich, coming from you. Eighteen year old son of mine, whose about to go out and get completely smashed, without eating a thing all day.” She raised the other eyebrow, a self-righteous smile teasing her lips up.
“That’s not the point,” Alex snapped, cursing as he felt himself teetering over the edge, angry at nothing but himself. At how angry he was. At nothing. “I better go,” he said, leaning around to check the time. It was about twenty five minutes to this guy Joey’s house.
Standing, he pecked his mother on the cheek, mumbling a quick “love you,” and then grabbed his keys and slipped the pair of shoes on that he’d chosen to go with his outfit.
“Have a good time, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” His mother called out behind him, and he smirked, turning as he opened the door.
“Gives me quiet a free rein then, doesn’t it?” He laughed as she gasped, waving him off. Closing the door behind him, he inhaled deeply before dashing to his car as the first drops of promised rain started to fall. Shutting the door and grimacing at the sudden overwhelming urge to just get out of the car and fling himself back into the house - which is something he’d never wanted to do before. Ever.
Groaning at how paranoid he was, he flicked the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel tightly as the engine lurched into life. The sky was pitch black now, and he kept his eyes directed toward the front as his mind conjured up images of unspeakable things lurking in the darkness outside his car. Jamming the car into first, he pulled out of the drive and stepped on the accelerator, whimpering a little as true paranoia kicked in and he thought he saw something running through the darkness towards him.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
-
Jack left the house and slid into the driver’s seat of his car, Zack’s and Rian’s alcohol clinking on the back seats - their parents were tight, and couldn’t risk keeping it in their own houses. As the engine growled into life, a rustle to his right jerked his head and he stared into the darkness, eyes wide as he tried to identify the source. It didn’t help that his head already felt like it was being hacked away at by a chainsaw, and his eyes were scratchy, yet felt more awake than when he woke up this morning.
Frowning a little and turning his attention back to the road, he checked all was clear before pulling out, careful that the movements of his arms didn’t dislodge his costume. Ignoring the hundred or so emotions that were raging through him and the notion that someone had put them there, he made his way to pick up Zack and Rian, and then they were heading to the party. He was eager to drink away the sudden unease.
-
Alex pulled up, killing the engine and swallowing nervously, kicking himself for not listening to his own instinct and getting the hell out of here while he could. The house was surrounded by several acres of woodland, the blackness circling the dimly hit house setting his nerves tingling, and the voice of his conscience was babbling incoherently inside his head.
This was bad. The vicious dread in his stomach made his actions jerky, and he considered just starting the car again, jamming it into reverse and heading the fuck back home. But he couldn’t. A dark figure in the window that had seen his car pull onto the massive driveway disappeared, most likely to come and open the door for him, cancelling out any chances of not going to this wretched party.
-
11:03PM
The atmosphere inside the house was electric. Jack moved swiftly through the crowd, enjoying the way there were bodies pressed up against his, the music pumping in chest and drowning out the worry that had been escalating until he got here. Bodies were grinding against each other, drunken embraces and behaviour everywhere.
Holding a half-empty bottle in his hand, he cast his eyes around the crowd, looking for Alex. Even though he stood at an impressive 6’ 2”, he had trouble making out anything in between the flailing arms, and bodies.
Until, there. Standing in the kitchen, a large glass of wine in his hand as some girl fluttered her obviously fake eyelashes at him, irritating laughter seeming to reach him where he stood. Following the tight coil in his stomach, he pushed his way through the swaying crowd, that moved with the music as one, staggering and shifting so that by the time he reached the other side he was hot and frustrated.
In need of a release.
Feeling the same, strange rush that had him moving toward his boyfriend confidently, his eyes burned as they raked over Alex’s costume. It was, in a word, perfect. The checked shirt that was deliberately too small hugged his slim figure, and showed off a hint of skin at the waist, the classic ‘V’ taunting in its seductive qualities. His dark black jeans outlined his legs, leading onto boots that were partially covered in straw. His make up was simple, black, smokey eyes and a little lip outline. Jack licked his lips, a mix of nerves and lust taking him off guard. He’d been feeling like this a lot, recently. Out of control. Like he was a puppet, controlled by the malevolent puppet-master above, pulling the strings that moved his body.
Alex saw him, and flashed him a smile that was easy, careless, and Jack could taste the alcohol in his mouth as he greeted him in the best way possible, their lips moulding together, practised and synchronised. He bit down on the other’s lip, tasting cherry, vodka, sweet red wine and his own, intoxicating flavour. Jack smiled as Alex licked along his bottom lip, the hand that wasn’t holding his glass lifting to fist into Jack’s hair, taking care to pull on it hard, moving his head back and opening his mouth. Fire scorched Jack’s veins, travelling through his entire body and sending warnings into his head. This kind of lust was wrong - the kind that tore a person apart and made them do things they would live to regret.
Jack pulled back, abruptly aware at how the girl that had her hand on Alex’s arm in a way that she thought was sexy was looking at them, mouth gaping in a silent ‘o’ of shock, and jealousy. Jack smirked at her, driven by the alcohol burning through any sense to say something that he, admittedly, probably would have said anyway.
“Problem? No. Good. Now, I believe that mouth is used to being put to use,” he paused, pretending to look around. He stuck a finger at a guy in the middle of the room, desperately trying to pull something. “That guy, right there. He looks like a good target to get into bed with because you’re too slutty to get anyone who’s got taste.”
Taking the slap that was a feeble attempt to regain some of the dignity she obviously didn’t have any of, with a smile, he looked back to Alex. “Can’t have some chick hitting on you, Gaskarth. That’s my job.” He winked, the overdramatic gesture washed down with another gulp of cider, the two-litre bottle of strongbow verging on empty. He felt good. Alex laughed, the constant frown that had been set into his features disappeared for now, his eyes lidded and unfocused, bracing himself up against the counter as he downed the last of the wine, smacking his lips together appreciatively.
Then he wriggled free from underneath Jack, placing a hand on the worktop as he swayed dangerously, head bobbing around to try and find his stash of alcohol - he’d quickly discovered that if you didn’t hide it, you didn’t have it. Spotting the cupboard that he’d thrown everything into, he walked fairly composed over to it, with only the odd stumble. Respectable considering that he’d started drinking as soon as he’d arrived, convincing himself that if he wasn’t drunk immediately he would sprint out of the door without a second glance.
And that would mean standing up Jack. He couldn’t do that.
The myriad of noises pounded against his head and had him squinting in the bright light; the thumping base as the music sunk into his veins and took control, eager to dance; the confusion of voices as people shouted over the songs, talked amongst the groups that were gathering and added to the bedlam; the buzzing in his ears as his head disconnected from his body and swam near the ceiling somewhere; and the intensified emotions that coated his tongue with anger, confrontation, and love. Not a good mix.
He spotted Zack, calling out to him over the crowds, vocal chords straining. “OI MERRICK!” Zack looked over in his vague, before laying eyes on him and throwing him a wave. “Nice costume!” Alex yelled, cupping his hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to make the sound travel further. And it really was. He wore a black, fitted shirt with a deep neck line that showed off his impressive pecks and swallow tattoo, black jeans slim fitting. A long, flowing black cape was tied at his neck, the fine chords hanging in a loose bow down the front of his neck, whilst his eyes were partially covered by the classic black mask that surrounded them. Zorro. An elated smile exposed his teeth as he nodded his head at Alex, unable to shout loud enough.
Snagging one of the kids that stood in his way, Alex shoved them aside so that he could reach his drinks, pulling open the lower cupboard and taking out yet another bottle of wine. This time, he didn’t bother with a glass, ripping off the plastic cover on the neck and lifting it to his lips, sighing as the tart liquid soaked his mouth and left his throat tingling from the subtle flavours that only increased the swaying of the room. But as he turned back round, smiling sloppily, something cut through the haze of intoxication like a knife, re-awakening the anger that had been just about forgotten. Jack.
His slim body writhed and twisted as he danced, the blue and white striped wide neck top showing off the collar bones that were Alex’s property; the tight fitting blue jeans exaggerating the slight bulge that only Alex had permission to oggle and touch. His sailor’s hat was perched precariously on top of his perfectly styled black hair. His face twisted into an expression that rivalled even the best man whore, eyes lidded as he danced vigorously with someone that wasn’t Alex. Anger flooded into his veins, only increased by the poor judgement that came with being completely wasted. So that was how it was? Alex was fine, until he wandered off for a moment, and then Jack was thrusting himself onto someone else to satisfy the weird needs that had only show themselves this week? Was that it? Alex gripped the wine bottle tighter, taking another sip of liquid confidence before he stormed through the few bodies that mingled in between him and his boyfriend.
Rage coated his tongue with a coppery residue, leaving him gagging to get rid of it. And he would. Throwing aside someone else and ignoring the shouts that shouted and slurred, his eyes focused only on the boy he loved.
Grabbing Jack’s forearm he wrenched the other boy away from the guy that gyrated his body in a way that made Alex sick. He wanted to fucking beat the shit out of him.
“What the fuck, Jack?! So I’m not good enough for you now, is that it? You want to find someone else to fucking throw yourself all over, because I won’t get into bed with you right this fucking second?” Alex shouted, uncaring of who heard, or was enough half-composed and aware enough to even turn their head in the right direction. He felt something building, the climax that had been signalling its arrival since he’d confirmed that they would be at this party. His eyes blazed, wide and abruptly focused despite how his head was a blurry mess that held no coherency. Jack gaped, face blank as he struggled to even explain his own actions.
“No, Alex! I - I, don’t even…I wasn’t…it’s not like -”
Alex exploded, scared at how easily the anger came to him, letting itself loose. “NO. Don’t even fucking try to tell me that what you were doing, wasn’t like how it looked! I’m not some dumb shit that you can fool, Jack, I’m you’re motherfucking boyfriend!” His hands trembled, in danger of losing grip of the wine bottle in his left hand, the right itching to hit the dancing guy’s face in until it resembled nothing human. Jack tripped over the words as they struggled to get out of his mouth quick enough, breathy and slurred from the alcohol swimming in his veins.
“It’s just some guy, Alex! Calm the fuck down, man, you know that my feelings for you won’t change, have never changed! Don’t fucking pin me down and rip my throat out just because I dance with someone else!” His clouded eyes darkened, white face slightly clammy with a sheen of perspiration. Alex resisted the urge to fling himself at someone.
“That’s beside the point you dick! It’s the way your fucking dancing, like you want to strip him right now, and just fuck him senseless without a second thought for me and how I would be three fucking feet away!” His throat hurt from the emotion that was poured into his voice, the fact that he was now screaming ripping his vocal chords. “Dance with whoever the hell you want, Barakat, but just don’t act like your single!”
Jack glowered, his face shifting into one that was frightening, eyes darkened and changing. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fucking kiss you, or put my hands on your cock so that everyone fucking knows we’re dating? Huh?” He leaned forward aggresively, crushing his lips to Alex’s in a kiss that bruised the tender skin. He pulled back, mouth set into a snarl. “Is that what you want? Does that make you realise that I fucking love you, you paranoid son of a bitch?” He took hold of Alex’s chin and pressed their lips together fiercely again, growling into the kiss that brusied both their lips and crashed their tongues together, teeth biting down to come close to slicing through the skin, leaving noticable imprints. Jack’s hand wrapped around Alex’s waist and yanked him against his body, no space left between their stomachs as the kiss deepened.
And despite the fury that screamed at him to throw a punch at the boy sticking his tongue into his mouth, he couldn’t. Because the honesty of the situation was, that he fucking loved the kid too much to truly hurt him. Even if the punch didn’t bruise, it would torment him endlessly until he thought he could grovel enough to make it up.
That’s what love did. It tore you down until there was nothing left, and tore down some more, exposed your naked soul to someone that could either set it flying or rip it to shreds. And then if they set it flying, an immovable chain was wrapped around your soul, tying you to that person until they figured out what to do with you. Either way, Alex was fucked.
An intoxicated, snarled gasp that was meant to go unheard tore Alex’s lips from Jack’s, already half-swollen from the force and emotion between them. The dancing was long forgotten, and had probably gone to try and steal someone else’s boyfriend.
Rian stood a short distance away, his army outfit going perfectly with his buzz cut hair. But the expression on his face was not one that should be mixed with any sort of violence. He dropped the bottle that was in his hand, the empty plastic bouncing off the linoleum flooring almost silently, but Alex heard the thud of friendship being put on the line as the plastic bounced. And yet, he was wasted, and the state his head was in right now did not do well with subtlety or compassion. This needed to be dealt with, now, or it would rip them even more apart than he had a feeling something would.
Extracting himself from Jack with a frustratingly apologetic glance, he walked over to the other boy, fixing him a stare that forced him to remain where he was. The tight jeans that he’d worn were hot with sweat, the tension in the air beading on his forehead. His make-up was probably running, the straw he’d taped to his shoes and the cuffs of his checked shirt beginning to itch. He could feel how the hair along his hairline stuck to his skin.
“Look, Rian. I’m not gonna beat around the bush or any shit like that, because you deserve better,” his voice was thick with alcohol, words slurring together as his tongue grappled to get around the syllables. “I fucking love Jack, and he better love me or I’ll fucking rip his balls off. I’m sorry, but I doubt that’ll change.”
Staggering back to the counter where his wine bottle was, he noticed that the atmosphere had changed, the writhing sea of bodies slowly moving across the rooms and filtering outside. His brow furrowed as something told him that going outside wasn’t such a good idea - but then, his judgement wasn’t at its best at the moment, because if he was asked to walk in a straight line he’d probably fall over. Amongst the swaying and confusion, he saw Zack fighting his way through the mass of people, eyes slightly unfocused as he stumbled over to them.
“They’ve got a fucking woods out there, everyone’s gonna go and scare themselves shitless. Let’s go!” A childishly excited smile tugged his lips up easily, the size of his pupils increased as the alcohol distorted his vision and left him little worse for wear.
Jack slipped a hand around Alex’s waist. “Fuck yeah!” He crowed, mumbling “oops, shit,” as he took a step forward and tripped, regaining his balance by leaning into Alex as he laughed uncontrollably. Rian had already disappeared, and in the confusion that had panic settled into his insides, he heard a “come on, babe,” in his ear before he was being pulled outside, barely able to take in where he was going.
And then an icy blast of air hit his face, refreshing him slightly and blowing some of the bemusement from his mind. People were running everywhere, the darkness swallowing them as they entered into the thick, foreboding body of the woods, the trees looming in the full moon. Beckoning. Alex began to back up, shaking his head and dropping the wine bottle that had somehow remained in his sweaty fingers. Fear dripped down the side of his face in the form of a salty tear, dread kicking him for not doing anything sooner. But the form that wandered, dangerously unstable, into the woods dragged him by the heart after, calling desperately for them to stop.
“Jack!…JACK!” Alex screamed, swaying and tripping over a stray tree root. He hit the ground hard, swearing loudly as the darkness morphed into shapes and colours in his blurred vision, heart pumping tainted blood around his system and saturating his senses until they didn’t work properly. Groaning, he twisted on the ground and heaved himself up unsteadily, crawling on all fours and holding still before he staggered to his feet, holding his head as it spun.
“Jack, Jack,” the word left his numb lips, blue from the sudden cold, and fear. His feet scuffled over the leaf ridden ground, finding every dip in the ground and catching him out as he jumped at each rustle in the undergrowth. The darkness that shrouded his surroundings had chills creeping up his spine, and frightened tears slid down his face, his pounding head in a different place to his body. The shaky plumes of air that leaked from his mouth were like a smoke message on top of a hill, visible to all with eyes. A fine mist hung in the air as the silvery moonlight cast an eerie light over things that were usually so benevolant; and yet now, they glared at Alex with evil on their minds. He was alone now. The many writhing bodies had dispersed until he was in a secluded part of the woods on his own, twitching at anything that caught his attention, the distant shouts of drunken teenagers calling out into the night every now and then, accompanied by shouts of laughter.
The silence was deafening, and Alex was scared to break it, despite how the one name perched on his tongue begged to be screamed over and over again until that person was safely in his arms. He stumbled further along, eyes groping the darkness blindly, in the hope that he would find someone to help him. Something rustled behind him. He spun around as best he could, over compensating and wobbling as he stared earnestly behind him, the dappled light playing tricks on his eyes. But there was nothing. Nothing but the franctic beating of his heart in his aching chest, and the heavy, panicked breaths that condensed in the night air.
Someone screamed.
The high pitch wailing cut through the silence, raising the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck. It cut off abruptly, gurgling a little as though the vocal chords had been sliced. Alex sobbed.
“Jack! Where the fuck are you?…Jack?” He called, breathless as he put every bit of energy into shouting the only name that mattered right now. Another rustled behind him had him scuttling to stand precariously behind a tree, chest heaving in shallow gasps, on the verge of hyperventilating. The quiet hissing and spitting that sounded close formed words, and Alex strained to hear, whoever it was seemingly oblivious to his presence. Or they were just playing him.
“…need them. Can’t do it without them. It isn’t called the Festival of the Dead for nothing…” The voice trailed off, moving away to his left as his wide eyes darted around him, constantly on the lookout for anyone that he could warn. Because this had been planned.
The emotions that were put into him, his friends. The party. It was all staged for some greater purpose. Feeling the rough bark of the tree on his cold, desensitised fingers, he shifted shakily to check that whoever it was had gone. There was no one around.
Tripping over another tree root and saving himself, Alex ran blindly in the direction that he came, desperate to find Jack, make sure he was safe, and Zack and Rian. Petty differences were long forgotten, and Alex just wanted to get out of here. He ran on, stumbling and swaying as he went, silent tears streaming down his face. Fear tore his mind to pieces, unable to do anything but run blindly away from everything, throwing his arms out to aid his balance, eyes wide and streaming as they darted around. Ripping of the straw that seemed meaningless, he got rid of anything that could hinder his actions, swinging his head over his shoulder to see something black and shapeless rushing toward him.
He let loose a scream.
-
The first thing that Jack noticed was how his face was pressed up against something, squashed uncomfortably. He felt the rope that tied his hands together behind his back, shoulders burning from the angle that they were forced into. His head whirled, and his stomach was dangerously tender, but that was nothing compared to the fear that pumped adrenaline through his body, his breaths coming fast and shallow.
He opened his eyes blearily, frowning as a flickering light stabbed into them. A hissing voice sounded not far off, noticing his movement. Something stirred in his chest, moving underneath the skin and making him cry aloud at the agony that had tears spring in his eyes. His back arched, pushing him harder into the dirty ground and his knees bent upward, desperate to free his hands so he could claw whatever it was out.
“Ah, he wakesss,” the voice rasped, something hard and metal suddenly pressed in between Jack’s shoulder blades. He whimpered, seeing the foot of a robed figure standing by his head, before an order was barked at him.
“Get up!” Jack hissed as the blade was pressed harder into his skin, biting down and cutting through several layers. Bending his knees underneath him, he used his cheek to push himself up and staggered to his feet awkwardly, stumbling over to the hooded figure that stood in the centre of a flaming circle, six other figures holding staffs that were alight. He tried to dig his feet into the soft ground, the dirt providing no grip. But the knife dug further into his back and he felt a hot wetness trickle down the skin, crying aloud at the pain, flinching away from it.
Then he saw the long, curved blade that protruded from the robed figure in front of him, fevered eyes widening. “No, please. No! I - I don’t want to…Don’t do…please,” he begged, voice cracking as he was pushed close to the figure that twisted the blade until it’s point was in line with his chest. Jack screamed as something writhed there, a presence that had caused the lust that had tainted his behaviour the past week.
“Luciferrr,” the voice hissed, stopping Jack’s desperate attempts to escape by touching the blade to the bare skin on his chest. He screamed again, agony calling out for it to end.
“Our pleasure,” the voice rasped again, and suddenly Jack cried out, twitching and lurching as a flash of silver came towards him. Pain like no other exploded in his chest, his vocal chords wrenched in two from the volume and intensity of his screams as metal tore his heart open.
-
Zack was gone…Rian was gone…J - he couldn’t even bring himself to think that. Alex sobbed desperately as he was manhandled over to an alter, his shoulders and chest heaving as grief tore him apart. He was beyond fear now. Nothing else mattered if something had happened to Jack.
A sharp pain at the top of head made him wince as he was forced onto the concrete block, hands tied viciously behind his band. Blade digging into his shoulder blades as panic and denial blurred his vision and cried itself hoarse into the darkness, to the figures that were too cowardly to show their faces as they ripped his shirt open to expose the red hot skin that shifted underneath, something more underneath than just his heart and lungs.
White hot agony lifted his body upwards as though with strings, limp from the unbearable pain and grief as something was pulled from his body. A dark presence lifted from his chest, a deep gutteral growling merging with Alex’s screams.
This was it. He was going to die. Certainty widened his eyes as the hooded figure walked closer towards him, serrated blade pointed at his heart. Good, Alex thought. Cut it out, you bastards. Raw fear was forgotten as he saw another figure walking towards him, holding a second blade, his tall, slim frame sending shock into Alex’s exposed heart.
And amongst the blackness, whirling night and the full moon, the last thing Alex saw before the pain exploded was the broken, white face of his love. Jack. Holding Alex’s heart in his hand, screams mixing with blood on All Hallows Eve.
-----
Author: wesaysummerrr
POV: Third
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys. This is completely fake…a little something I thought of, considering the time of year. Title belongs to All Time Low - Jasey Rae. Cut belongs to Stone Sour - Say You'll Haunt Me.
Author Notes: okay, so this is the second part of this two part Halloween fic. I really enjoyed writing this, so, happy reading you cheeky devils you.
here's my tumblr.
Part One.
30th October
Alex walked through the bustling shopping centre uneasily. It was the 30th today. One day away from Halloween, and one day until they held up their end of the deal and went to this party.
Cutting through town was the easiest way to Jack’s, which was where he was headed. Where else? Jamming his ear buds into his ears he scrolled down the list of songs on his ipod until he found something that fit his mood. Dark. As he walked past the endless row of shop windows, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of being watched. Glancing into the windows as a precaution, his eyes met several tacky, eyeless rubber masks that hung from hooks in the window grimacing at him, the eye sockets black and empty, following his movements. His stomach twisted as his eyes raked over the cheap decorations that littered the shop displays; rubber spiders and plastic pumpkins that were lit up by a painfully cheap red light bulb in the centre, cackling animatronic witches raised an arm to shake a poorly put together broom at him, motion sensitive eyes watching him.
It was all too fake. The commercial industry had destroyed the real meaning behind the holiday that was creeping up on them. That this was the one night throughout the year where the boundaries between this world and the spirit world were at their thinnest. This was the time when superstition ran riot and the one time when people could allow their imagination to develop without being labelled as immature. But that had been forsaken by persuading people to tape a green nose to their face and encourage children to demand confectionery, for the sake of a few more coins in someone’s pocket. An unwarranted anger flowed through him as he thought about this, suddenly sick of everything. He frowned, mouth setting into a hard line as he strode on.
But Alex couldn’t deny how uneasy he was. He couldn’t put a finger on what drew his eyes to narrow at the stereotypical decorations, and tightened his fingers into fists in his pockets. There had never been a Halloween until now where he was, in all honesty, scared. The unknown had always been something that unnerved him, and now there was a notion in the back of his head, tainting the usual excitement for the holiday.
Mentally shaking himself, he was dragged back to where he was as he rebounded off a guy’s shoulder as he walked into him. “Sorry,” he muttered. But his apology turned sharply into rebellion as something like “watch were you’re going, fag,” was shot back at him, the admittedly larger built guy’s face set into disgust.
Alex turned to walk backwards and held up both middle fingers, yelling, “Yeah? Fuck you, pretentious bastard.”
Ignoring the sea of faces that swivelled in his direction, accompanied by disapproving mutters that burned his ears with anger, Alex pulled his hood over his head and turned the volume on his ipod up, suggesting what society should go and do to itself.
Pushing past the mass of bodies that had clustered in front of him, he rolled his eyes as he saw that a space had been cleared for the sort of performance that had his insides cringing away from the awful accents, stage make-up and crowd inclusion. Slipping through the gaps, he wove his way through the crowd and dodged the numerous children that wrapped themselves in between his legs and threatened to better acquaint his face with the floor. Biting back a string of expletives that his mother would cry at, Alex rolled his eyes after stepping over another child that was sat on the floor and breathed out a sigh of relief as he fell out into the open air.
Forcing a bounce into his step, Alex pushed anything but the warmth of the sun on his face and the thought of seeing Jack - after apologising first for acting like an utter dick yesterday at practise. He’d switched his phone off, unplugged the land line from the wall and retreated to the confines of his room where he’d turned on his stereo and punished the speakers with the sheer volume for several hours before he could calm down enough to not destroy anything. The lyrics that he had written down the previous day on three sheets of lined paper were worse for wear - they now lay in tatters at the bottom of his rubbish bin, shredded by furious fingers.
-
Joey laid eyes the figure that walked angrily through the mass of people, red hood drawn over his head and white headphones protruding from the neckline of his t-shirt. A grim smile exposed his teeth as he ran through his head the number of people that would his house tomorrow, under the impression that he was throwing a party.
His head jerked right as he caught a whisper of sound behind him, and his eyes glinted as they locked onto the black of his school mate, his own black eyes wildly excited and a endless pool of hate for this place, and all those that infested it. She stepped lightly over to him, hands clasping several shopping bags that groaned from the weight of their contents.
“Got everything?” His voice rasped, dehydration the only way to heighten his senses. The faint smile that pulled one side of her mouth up answered for her. Motioning that they should go, he took one of the bags from her and looked inside, careful not to dislodge anything.
Yeah. Some party.
-
Zack made his way up the paved path that led to the front of the house number 46. His acoustic guitar swung on his shoulders as he pressed the bell, hearing the chimes echo behind the door, and he gripped the bag that he carried tighter.
A moment later and his eyes fell on Jack, black hair half-straightened and mouth filled with foamy toothpaste, purple toothbrush working over his already white teeth. Zack smiled.
“Morning, Jack.” Jack grunted in reply, eyes still stiff and glazed from sleep. He stepped over the threshold of the house, following Jack’s skinny form as he meandered sluggishly into the kitchen, before pointing to the fridge and grunting something inarticulate through the mouthful of toothpaste, not bothering to stop scrubbing the toothbrush over his teeth.
“I’m not hungry,” Zack replied, dumping the bag onto the kitchen table and removing the guitar from his back, resting it up against one of the table legs. Jack uttered a single syllable answer and lifted his shoulders in a shrug, before turning around and walking up the stairs to the bathroom. Wandering over to a cabinet, Zack grabbed a glass and twisted the faucet on the tap until it ran cold, and filled the glass. Taking a mouthful of water, he kicked off his shoes and went into the lounge, pondering whether or not to flick the television or not whilst he waited for Jack to sort himself out. But going on past experience, he could be hours yet.
The decision was made for him as he heard the scuffling of feet on the paving slab the other side of the door, seconds before the doorbell went. Placing the glass down onto the kitchen table as he passed it, Zack drew open the door a moment later to greet Rian, who also carried a bag in his right hand.
“Alright, man?” He grinned and stepped inside as Zack left him to close the door. Rian’s eyes fell on the bag that was already on the kitchen table as he too rested his there, a soft clinking coming from within the structured material depths.
“See you’ve stocked up already too,” he pointed at the bag that he presumed to be Zack’s, before glancing around to try and locate Jack.
Zack picked up his glass and downed the rest of the contents. “Naturally. Oh, and if you’re looking for Jack he’s upstairs looking at himself in the mirror. Don’t get your hopes up of seeing him for some time yet.”
The other groaned, running a hand over his head. “Oh, really? Great.” Then he thought about it. “Then again, he did say that Alex was coming over, so there’ll be extra pampering going on I suspect.” He grinned, but there was edge to it, something other than good nature flickering in his eyes. He stepped toward the fridge and pulled out the makings of a sandwich. “Want one?”
Zack shook his head. “Nah, not hungry.” Jack emerged down the stairs at that moment, and both boys gaped in mock dismay. “Whoa, hang on there Jack, don’t think I had time to blink.” Rian laughed from the kitchen, before he appeared holding a sizeable ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich.
“Fuck you guys,” Jack smirked, “it’s my house, and I’ll spend all my time on myself if I want to.” Rian clucked his tongue as he threw himself onto one of the sofas, taking a massive bite from the sandwich he cradled almost protectively and spoke thickly around it.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Alex is coming over, would it? All this preening?” Well, that’s what Zack assumed he said, because what actually came out of his mouth sounded more like, “It woodn have nythink oo do with the fac that Alexs ish commin’ over, would id? Ll thid preenin’?” Zack couldn’t help but notice the underlying darkness in his voice - the kind that ruined people, and spoiled even the most beautiful with jealousy. Zack frowned. That wasn’t like Rian, at all.
Jack raised his eyebrows, picking up on the tone in the other’s voice as well. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you because you were talking with your mouth full. Which is a disgusting habit.” His gaze was cool as he stared down the boy sat on the sofa. “And you need to sort out that envy, Rian. It’s not good for you.”
Just as Rian offered a comeback, his finger pointed toward Jack, the doorbell cut through the conversation. Jack darted toward the door to answer, and Rian muttered under his breath, sinking further down the sofa. “Speak of the Devil.”
-
Alex trudged resolutely down the roads that led him to Jack’s house, mouthing along to the songs that filled his ears and drowned out the strange unease that had been following him around. He felt better now, the tension that had filled him this morning having since faded away until it no longer twisted and festered in his stomach.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse as he had walked on, the sunshine that lapped at his skin earlier had vanished and was replaced by an thunderous looking sky, a chill wind whipping his hair back from his face and stinging his cheeks. He wrapped his favourite red hoody tighter around himself, wishing silently that he’d worn more layers. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he watched his feet as they carried down the road that he must have worn a groove into by now, the amount of times he had walked down it. The quiet of the suburban estate eased the thoughts that raged around his head and he turned down into the first close on the left, that lead into a cul-de-sac, on which Jack’s house was the furthest away.
But something caught his eye. A movement in the darkened bushes at the end of the street, the place that was overshadowed by a canopy of trees. He stared for a minute, convinced that it wasn’t just his eyes playing tricks on him, roving the dark greens and blacks as they merged into from the intensity in which he stared.
Shaking his head and continuing onward, he spotted the red Renault that he knew to be Zack’s outside Jack’s house. Frowning, he picked up the pace and pulled the buds from his ears, muting the screaming that had begun to hurt his ears. Stepping up the path, he pressed the bell on the front door and took a step backward, scuffing his feet and looking down. He really hated awkward apologies. His pride got in the way of making them normally, too self-aware to be able to admit that he was wrong. But this was different. This was Jack - to whom he owed everything.
The door swung inward as a voice sounded the other side of the door. That was odd, it sounded like there were more people than just Jack. Frown deepening, he glanced back to the car that looked like Zack’s parked on the drive, and it clicked.
He groaned.
“Alex!” Jack crowed, eyes reduced to adorable crescents from the size of his smile. And despite the sudden self-consciousness that had him twirling the strings of his hoody in between his fingers, and tightened the knot in his stomach, he couldn’t help but smile at the other boy. His hair was styled to sit just how Alex liked it, messy yet perfectly organised, and the shirt he wore only emphasised the warm chocolate of his eyes. But the unnerving glint in his eye still hadn’t vanished, as he’d expected it to - Jack was probably the most horny guy he’d ever met, but his mood swings passed. Normally - instead it had intensified.
“Hey,” he started, shifting on the spot. “I wanted to apologise for being such a prick yesterday, I didn’t mean it.” He averted Jack’s eyes, a flush warming his cheeks as he saw another figure behind Jack, standing in the living room. He stopped, voice failing. Because although he thought Zack might be here, he hadn’t expected Rian to be here too. “Y-you have other people here,” he trailed off, fingers picking the string he held apart.
“It’s only Zack and Rian, dude. What’s with the nerves?” Alex opened his mouth to defend himself, a little louder and fiercer than necessary. But before angry words left his mouth, Jack’s head titled slightly as he caught the comment that was meant to go unheard, and picked up one of the shoes that lay next to the door and chucked it to roughly where Rian was. Arching perfectly, it dropped just at the right time and a muffled exclamation told Jack that he’d hit his mark. Turning back to Alex, he smiled again, this time looking like a little kid that had got away with something he knew he shouldn’t do.
“Come in, then. Or did you plan on just standing on the doorstep for the duration of your visit?” Stepping backwards, Jack made sure that Alex was in and shut the door before he launched himself onto the sofa from behind, catching its inhabitant off guard and eliciting several squawks of shock as he fell onto Rian and tumbled off the edge of the sofa, making sure that his fist connected with the other boy’s arm once or twice.
“Serves you right. Should have kept that ugly jealousy to yourself, eh?” Jack growled, a warning to his friend that Alex didn’t need this.
-
Zack stood there, helpless as he watched the scene before him unfold. Everyone had been acting out of character lately, what with Rian sulking and muttering venomously to himself when he thought that no one was looking, ugly thoughts tainting the usually so vibrant happiness that kept everyone going on a rough day. Jack was even more flirty than normal, hands roaming absently as he fidgeted and shifted on the sofa, eyes locked on the brown haired boy that sat next to him, whose own expression was flickered with something else.
Of course, Zack was the only one that didn’t feel any different. He was obviously just impenetrable when it came to outside influences that could disrupt the balance of someone’s personality. He smirked a little at that, the wave of confidence suddenly catching him off guard.
That was just it. He wasn’t confident. The state of his childhood had ensured that his self-esteem had been beaten down until it was below ground level, with little hope of ever resurfacing to its former glory. Because he had been confident, once. But the constant demoralising comments, snide remarks and jibes that were repeated so often that he started to believe them had caused him to become so introvert his parents had appointed him to a counsellor.
His eyes widened as he considered how badly he’d been thinking of the others recently, and his body tensed as he sensed that something else was at play here. He hadn’t suddenly sprouted this new confidence from somewhere, because that wasn’t something that just happened. He reflected on how he’d been trying to make himself feel better than his best friends - something that is unquestionably uncharacteristic. If anyone were asked about what he was like, they would utter words like quiet, thoughtful, modest…Definitely not confident, or proud. Because that was how he was feeling. Proud. Unhealthily so.
His head jerked upward as he vaguely heard his name being called. “Zack, you alright? You haven’t moved in like, ten minutes.”
His eyes fell on the brown eyes of the speaker, his dark eyebrows angled downward slightly in the faint frown that had become increasingly prominent as the days progressed. He shook himself, feeling that same rush of weird confidence trigger a response. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
Alex shrugged, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. “Just checking, no need to rip my head off.” But when he re-opened his eyes, there was something different. They were darker and their normal kindness had nearly evaporated, and the way they caught in the light made them look almost metallic. He noticed the same sheen in Jack’s and Rian’s eyes, his own widening as the surge of confidence vanished and he was left feeling like himself: small, like a voice that’s screaming in a crowded room, but no one can hear him. Glancing over to the three guys on the same sofa, tainted eyes locked onto the television screen from which a muffled warbling emitted, Zack stood up, hearing the rush of thoughts bursting into his head as several things became clear to him.
Something was affecting them. Something that weren’t aware of, that was changing their fundamental qualities without consent or choice. And yet he could still feel himself changing underneath his own nose; the way he walked to the bathroom, and the easy smirk that tilted his lips up as he saw the way Jack’s hand slid a little further up Alex’s thigh, the flash in Alex’s metallic eyes and the faint scowl Rian threw towards them both, shifting a little further away.
--
30th October 11:45PM
It was later that night that Alex woke up from a nightmare, cold sweat saturating his bed sheets as his shaking body jolted upright, eyes flinging wide open and a gasp of horror leaving him breathless. Propping himself up, he wiped a hand over his face, breathing hard and blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness of the room.
Swallowing uneasily, the scenes that had jerked him awake flashed in front of his eyes, like clips of a movie that he never wanted to watch. Flinging the moist sheets from his cold body, he navigated through the junk on the floor of his bedroom and into the bathroom, groping for the light pull and then throwing a hand up to shield his eyes as a bright yellow light attacked them. Shuffling over to the mirror, he inspected his reflection; and noticed a difference almost immediately. It was his eyes. Not the dark circles underneath that made him look like the living dead, nor the numerous tiny blood vessels scrawled across the whites. It was his pupils. They were darker than ever before, his eyes having always been a warm brown now glared back at him, as black as the night sky outside. The set of his eyebrows cast them into shadow and only increased the way they caught and reflected some of the light, like a cat’s. His hair was dampened from the cold sweat that beaded on his brow, darkening the brown strands and exaggerating the goose bumps that were raised on his stark white skin.
He couldn’t explain the feeling that suddenly overwhelmed him as he recognised the change in himself. It wasn’t confusion, nor was it panic, or fear or suspicion. It was more complex than any emotion that could be described in human words. It swelled in his chest, filling him with the sensation of an electric shock running through his body, setting his veins alight and jolting his heart until it was a physical pain. He gasped, holding his chest as the feeling increased, a sense of accomplishment washing through him. But it wasn’t his. He didn’t feel accomplished, nowhere near. Anger suddenly swelled in his stomach, something that had become all too often. But Alex realised what was different this time - he couldn’t control it. Up until now, the foreign emotion had simply been dealt with through gnashing his teeth together and yelling a few choice swear words.
But now, he didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t control the sudden, all consuming rage that ate away at his insides until he thought he couldn’t take it anymore. Gasping and twitching his head to the cupboard above his head, his arms jerked to knock into the handle and twist it - a pause as his face screwed up at the pain in his chest, as the something that had been overshadowing him grew. Clenching his jaw and removing one hand from around his torso, he fumbled blindly around the shelf until his fingers slid over what he looked for. Fighting all the time, and half-blind as his eyes struggled to flutter close, he brought the slim package that pricked his skin down and unfurled his hands, grabbing off the protective wrapping and dropping the object into his hand. It lay in his palm, cutting into the meaty part of his thumb. His eyes flicked back up to stare in denial at the person that mirrored his movements, the possessed eyes streaming with tears.
A flash of bright silver followed, a red line appearing on his forearm as he tried to release the intense building of emotions within him. He gasped in relief as he felt the black cloud ooze from his forearm, blazing angrily as the skin protested. His knees gave way from the pain, and his black eyes rolled back into his head as he drowned in the waves that washed out his consciousness.
----
31st October 9:51AM
Jack woke with a start, the sunshine streaming through his curtains. He felt…strange. Like something was pulling his attention to something he was too ignorant to see. The sunlight that washed lazily over his skin brought with it the chill of anticipation, and something else. There was a dull ache in his chest, like the aftermath of an attack of heartburn, which he rubbed a hand over uncomfortably, frowning. His mind felt clouded, driven into a state that was unfamiliar to him.
Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he realised what day it was today, flicking his gaze to the calendar that hung on the wall opposite. Halloween. A smile cracked his lips and exposed his teeth, as he swung himself out of bed. But then he realised he had a problem. Biting back an involuntary groan as the fabric of his boxers and the bed sheets caused friction on the problem that tented in his boxers, he stood up carefully and hastily made his way to the en suite bathroom in his bedroom, locking the door behind him.
Re-appearing shortly he ruffled his hair as he tried to work with it, standing in front of the full-length mirror that was on his wardrobe. Smiling a little, he noticed that his eyes were darker. His expression shifted into bemusement, before dismissal turned his mouth down as he shook it off. Maybe it was just the light. And besides there were far more pressing matters to be dealt with, the constant rumbling of his stomach for one. Pulling on a pair of jeans and yanking a t-shirt over his head, he drew the wardrobe door toward him a fraction and peeked inside, making sure that everything was still in order for tonight.
---
12:09AM
Alex felt his body shaking, a voice drifting on the edge of his consciousness, distorted and vague. Something warm and firm rested on his shoulder, causing the tremors that shook the sleep from his mind. Gradually coming to, the urgent voice of his mother became clearer and clearer, repeating his name over and over again until she saw his eyes open.
“Alex…Alex…Alex!” Starting as he blinked his eyes open, he found himself on the cold, tiled bathroom floor, arms and legs twisted around him, having fallen asleep or unconscious to the floor. Then he remembered. Dread had settled in his stomach as the remembered pain in chest widened his eyes, and he held a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned to look up at the woman standing over him. Frowning at the light, he shifted to prop himself up on his elbow as he stretched his cramped, stiff muscles. But then he saw the angry, swollen red line, and hissed as he moved into a position that sent pain shooting up his forearm. Jerking his arm so that it was behind his bare torso, he tried to smile encouragingly at his mother, whose expression was twisted into one filled with worry, her eyebrows pulled tight together.
“What are you doing in here, Alexander?” She fussed, scraping back his hair to place a hand on his clammy forehead. He squirmed out of her reach, scowling.
“I’m not a kid, mum. I must have slept-walked, or something.” He knew that lying to her was wrong, and a twinge of guilt shadowed his forehead, but it was for the best. If he told her what really happened, she would overreact. But as he shifted backward, his forearm bent slightly, and her eyes were practically dragged to the several red lines there, fresh and oozing still.
“What’s that, Alex? On your arm?” Her eyebrows pulled down further, suspicion creeping into the tone of her voice. As soon as Alex saw the slight change in her expression he knew she’d seen. Struggling to his feet, he held his arms casually behind his back, trying to not make it obvious that he didn’t want her to get a good look. His stomach tightened as another lie shaped his lips. This was wrong. He hated lying to her.
“What? There’s nothing on my arm,” he widened his eyes and tried to fix his expression into one he hoped was believable, crossing his fingers behind his back. She only frowned deeper for a moment, trying to peek around him as he stood there. Trying not to flinch at the stabbing pain he moved his arm further behind his back, pressing it into the other so there was no chance of her seeing anything. Tutting, she took steps backward and turned away before saying,
“Jack called, by the way. He wants to make sure that everything is still good for tonight. You’ll ring him back?” with that, she left Alex standing there, his gut writhing at the thought of this party tonight, head spinning as he remembered everything before he blacked out, and the sinking suspicion that something bigger was coming.
---
2:24PM
Rian sat upright and threw the empty bottle into the bin across the room, uttering a satisfied grunt as it dropped into the bin with a clang as plastic hit metal. Grimacing at the faint swaying of the room as he sunk back into the sofa, he cursed himself; cursed this degrading jealousy that drove him to start drinking hours before the party. And yeah, people would argue that he was too young to feel like this, but emotions weren’t on an age restriction, where they? A person at his age could feel the same things that an older person might. He was only eighteen, but some things just didn’t get the meaning of the recklessness of youth. Some things tied you down before you thought you would ever be ready.
He knew it was way too early to even be giggly from alcohol - and he was past that stage - but he really didn’t know how else to deal with this. With the crushing knowledge that he wasn’t ever going to be good enough for the one person that brought a smile to his face. That he would never get looked at the way he looked at someone else.
What he was also trying to escape from was the pounding in his head, and the intervals of stabbing in his chest. His head was swimming nicely somewhere above the rest of his body now, so the bizarre feelings that had troubled him for the past week had been dealt with. Sometimes drinking until he felt like he might have been dead was the best way of dealing with problems.
---
5:54PM
The skies had just began to darken, and Zack put in a couple more push-ups before he sat back and wiped his brow with the towel next to him. Taking a swig of water from the water bottle that lay on the exercise mat, he stood up and relished at the vitality that soaked his senses from working out after a day of monotony. He felt, refreshed. The dizzy spell that had affected him earlier was long gone, and he felt like he could take on the world, and win.
Throwing the towel into the wash bin that stood in the entrance of the gym changing rooms, he returned to his locker and took out the change of clothes for the journey home. He would shower there, not one to expose all in the public showers, where anyone could be. Ignoring the sense of foreboding that seemed to follow him from the gym to the lockers, he took out his clothes and removed his sweats and vest top, before tugging on a clean shirt and jeans.
---
7:47PM
It was time. Alex stood up a little shakily, tongue poking out as he re-dressed his arm so as not to let anything irritate it. Of course, had this not been Halloween, the roughly applied bandage would have caused suspicion. But thankfully, he had that covered. Literally.
Struggling into the costume that he’d spent most of his spare time slaving over, despite the reluctance to actually attend this party, he applied the suitable make-up and styled his hair accordingly. Careful not to smudge any of his make-up as he put liberal amounts of the hair gel that doesn’t leave a residue into his hair. Standing back and looking in the full-length mirror, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of a smile pull at his lips. Despite the weird possessed look in his worryingly black eyes - that he purposefully ignored and tried not to think anything of, even though that was the worst possible thing he could do - he didn’t look half bad. In fact, he looked pretty damn good. This scarecrow idea had been a good one.
Descending the stairs, he glanced over at the clock that hung on the wall. 7:52PM. The party was at half eight, and he hadn’t eaten. But he didn’t think his stomach could handle food, despite this meaning the alcohol that he had stashed in his car earlier in the day would go straight to his head. Then he reconsidered. Maybe that was a good thing, he could forget the worry that gnawed at his insides and tugged his heart, filling him with a dread that wasn’t just for him. It was for Jack. Stupidly, he was fixated with the thought that something might happen to his boyfriend; and even though they fought and bitched, he loved him. Really. He could be completely himself around Jack, and that hadn’t happened before.
Realising he was chewing his lip, a nervous habit he couldn’t shift, he walked over to the sofa and sat down, careful not to dislodge any part of his costume. A second later his mother walked in, holding the sandwich that was her dinner and a mug of tea, from which a whirling plume of steam rose in delicate swirls. He smiled and half-scowled , as she mimed shock at his costume and hurried over to sit next to him.
“Alex! It looks great, did you make that?” Talking to her eased the mayhem inside of him. But despite this, he felt the slow anger that had been a part of him over the last couple of days building, reaching a climax from which there would be no return. If he was honest, he was scared of himself. What this anger would make him do; where it was coming from. Plastering a smile on his face, he answered her, eyeing the sandwich that she was holding.
“Yeah, thanks,” he paused, frowning. “Mum, you can’t just eat that.”
She shifted, holding the deep fill sandwich protectively and taking a large bite, chewing and swallowing before she answered. “Why, not? I can eat what I want.”
Alex frowned deeper, feeling the anger building in his stomach, an odd, hollow sensation in his chest. Like his heart had been scooped out without any pain, or him even knowing. “Because you need to eat more, it’s not healthy.”
He knew he was contradicting himself, and that point was probably going to be pointed out by his mother at any moment, but that was all part of being a teenager. You didn’t take your own advice. She pulled away from the sandwich, eyebrow quirking upwards.
“That’s rich, coming from you. Eighteen year old son of mine, whose about to go out and get completely smashed, without eating a thing all day.” She raised the other eyebrow, a self-righteous smile teasing her lips up.
“That’s not the point,” Alex snapped, cursing as he felt himself teetering over the edge, angry at nothing but himself. At how angry he was. At nothing. “I better go,” he said, leaning around to check the time. It was about twenty five minutes to this guy Joey’s house.
Standing, he pecked his mother on the cheek, mumbling a quick “love you,” and then grabbed his keys and slipped the pair of shoes on that he’d chosen to go with his outfit.
“Have a good time, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” His mother called out behind him, and he smirked, turning as he opened the door.
“Gives me quiet a free rein then, doesn’t it?” He laughed as she gasped, waving him off. Closing the door behind him, he inhaled deeply before dashing to his car as the first drops of promised rain started to fall. Shutting the door and grimacing at the sudden overwhelming urge to just get out of the car and fling himself back into the house - which is something he’d never wanted to do before. Ever.
Groaning at how paranoid he was, he flicked the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel tightly as the engine lurched into life. The sky was pitch black now, and he kept his eyes directed toward the front as his mind conjured up images of unspeakable things lurking in the darkness outside his car. Jamming the car into first, he pulled out of the drive and stepped on the accelerator, whimpering a little as true paranoia kicked in and he thought he saw something running through the darkness towards him.
Tonight was going to be a long night.
-
Jack left the house and slid into the driver’s seat of his car, Zack’s and Rian’s alcohol clinking on the back seats - their parents were tight, and couldn’t risk keeping it in their own houses. As the engine growled into life, a rustle to his right jerked his head and he stared into the darkness, eyes wide as he tried to identify the source. It didn’t help that his head already felt like it was being hacked away at by a chainsaw, and his eyes were scratchy, yet felt more awake than when he woke up this morning.
Frowning a little and turning his attention back to the road, he checked all was clear before pulling out, careful that the movements of his arms didn’t dislodge his costume. Ignoring the hundred or so emotions that were raging through him and the notion that someone had put them there, he made his way to pick up Zack and Rian, and then they were heading to the party. He was eager to drink away the sudden unease.
-
Alex pulled up, killing the engine and swallowing nervously, kicking himself for not listening to his own instinct and getting the hell out of here while he could. The house was surrounded by several acres of woodland, the blackness circling the dimly hit house setting his nerves tingling, and the voice of his conscience was babbling incoherently inside his head.
This was bad. The vicious dread in his stomach made his actions jerky, and he considered just starting the car again, jamming it into reverse and heading the fuck back home. But he couldn’t. A dark figure in the window that had seen his car pull onto the massive driveway disappeared, most likely to come and open the door for him, cancelling out any chances of not going to this wretched party.
-
11:03PM
The atmosphere inside the house was electric. Jack moved swiftly through the crowd, enjoying the way there were bodies pressed up against his, the music pumping in chest and drowning out the worry that had been escalating until he got here. Bodies were grinding against each other, drunken embraces and behaviour everywhere.
Holding a half-empty bottle in his hand, he cast his eyes around the crowd, looking for Alex. Even though he stood at an impressive 6’ 2”, he had trouble making out anything in between the flailing arms, and bodies.
Until, there. Standing in the kitchen, a large glass of wine in his hand as some girl fluttered her obviously fake eyelashes at him, irritating laughter seeming to reach him where he stood. Following the tight coil in his stomach, he pushed his way through the swaying crowd, that moved with the music as one, staggering and shifting so that by the time he reached the other side he was hot and frustrated.
In need of a release.
Feeling the same, strange rush that had him moving toward his boyfriend confidently, his eyes burned as they raked over Alex’s costume. It was, in a word, perfect. The checked shirt that was deliberately too small hugged his slim figure, and showed off a hint of skin at the waist, the classic ‘V’ taunting in its seductive qualities. His dark black jeans outlined his legs, leading onto boots that were partially covered in straw. His make up was simple, black, smokey eyes and a little lip outline. Jack licked his lips, a mix of nerves and lust taking him off guard. He’d been feeling like this a lot, recently. Out of control. Like he was a puppet, controlled by the malevolent puppet-master above, pulling the strings that moved his body.
Alex saw him, and flashed him a smile that was easy, careless, and Jack could taste the alcohol in his mouth as he greeted him in the best way possible, their lips moulding together, practised and synchronised. He bit down on the other’s lip, tasting cherry, vodka, sweet red wine and his own, intoxicating flavour. Jack smiled as Alex licked along his bottom lip, the hand that wasn’t holding his glass lifting to fist into Jack’s hair, taking care to pull on it hard, moving his head back and opening his mouth. Fire scorched Jack’s veins, travelling through his entire body and sending warnings into his head. This kind of lust was wrong - the kind that tore a person apart and made them do things they would live to regret.
Jack pulled back, abruptly aware at how the girl that had her hand on Alex’s arm in a way that she thought was sexy was looking at them, mouth gaping in a silent ‘o’ of shock, and jealousy. Jack smirked at her, driven by the alcohol burning through any sense to say something that he, admittedly, probably would have said anyway.
“Problem? No. Good. Now, I believe that mouth is used to being put to use,” he paused, pretending to look around. He stuck a finger at a guy in the middle of the room, desperately trying to pull something. “That guy, right there. He looks like a good target to get into bed with because you’re too slutty to get anyone who’s got taste.”
Taking the slap that was a feeble attempt to regain some of the dignity she obviously didn’t have any of, with a smile, he looked back to Alex. “Can’t have some chick hitting on you, Gaskarth. That’s my job.” He winked, the overdramatic gesture washed down with another gulp of cider, the two-litre bottle of strongbow verging on empty. He felt good. Alex laughed, the constant frown that had been set into his features disappeared for now, his eyes lidded and unfocused, bracing himself up against the counter as he downed the last of the wine, smacking his lips together appreciatively.
Then he wriggled free from underneath Jack, placing a hand on the worktop as he swayed dangerously, head bobbing around to try and find his stash of alcohol - he’d quickly discovered that if you didn’t hide it, you didn’t have it. Spotting the cupboard that he’d thrown everything into, he walked fairly composed over to it, with only the odd stumble. Respectable considering that he’d started drinking as soon as he’d arrived, convincing himself that if he wasn’t drunk immediately he would sprint out of the door without a second glance.
And that would mean standing up Jack. He couldn’t do that.
The myriad of noises pounded against his head and had him squinting in the bright light; the thumping base as the music sunk into his veins and took control, eager to dance; the confusion of voices as people shouted over the songs, talked amongst the groups that were gathering and added to the bedlam; the buzzing in his ears as his head disconnected from his body and swam near the ceiling somewhere; and the intensified emotions that coated his tongue with anger, confrontation, and love. Not a good mix.
He spotted Zack, calling out to him over the crowds, vocal chords straining. “OI MERRICK!” Zack looked over in his vague, before laying eyes on him and throwing him a wave. “Nice costume!” Alex yelled, cupping his hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to make the sound travel further. And it really was. He wore a black, fitted shirt with a deep neck line that showed off his impressive pecks and swallow tattoo, black jeans slim fitting. A long, flowing black cape was tied at his neck, the fine chords hanging in a loose bow down the front of his neck, whilst his eyes were partially covered by the classic black mask that surrounded them. Zorro. An elated smile exposed his teeth as he nodded his head at Alex, unable to shout loud enough.
Snagging one of the kids that stood in his way, Alex shoved them aside so that he could reach his drinks, pulling open the lower cupboard and taking out yet another bottle of wine. This time, he didn’t bother with a glass, ripping off the plastic cover on the neck and lifting it to his lips, sighing as the tart liquid soaked his mouth and left his throat tingling from the subtle flavours that only increased the swaying of the room. But as he turned back round, smiling sloppily, something cut through the haze of intoxication like a knife, re-awakening the anger that had been just about forgotten. Jack.
His slim body writhed and twisted as he danced, the blue and white striped wide neck top showing off the collar bones that were Alex’s property; the tight fitting blue jeans exaggerating the slight bulge that only Alex had permission to oggle and touch. His sailor’s hat was perched precariously on top of his perfectly styled black hair. His face twisted into an expression that rivalled even the best man whore, eyes lidded as he danced vigorously with someone that wasn’t Alex. Anger flooded into his veins, only increased by the poor judgement that came with being completely wasted. So that was how it was? Alex was fine, until he wandered off for a moment, and then Jack was thrusting himself onto someone else to satisfy the weird needs that had only show themselves this week? Was that it? Alex gripped the wine bottle tighter, taking another sip of liquid confidence before he stormed through the few bodies that mingled in between him and his boyfriend.
Rage coated his tongue with a coppery residue, leaving him gagging to get rid of it. And he would. Throwing aside someone else and ignoring the shouts that shouted and slurred, his eyes focused only on the boy he loved.
Grabbing Jack’s forearm he wrenched the other boy away from the guy that gyrated his body in a way that made Alex sick. He wanted to fucking beat the shit out of him.
“What the fuck, Jack?! So I’m not good enough for you now, is that it? You want to find someone else to fucking throw yourself all over, because I won’t get into bed with you right this fucking second?” Alex shouted, uncaring of who heard, or was enough half-composed and aware enough to even turn their head in the right direction. He felt something building, the climax that had been signalling its arrival since he’d confirmed that they would be at this party. His eyes blazed, wide and abruptly focused despite how his head was a blurry mess that held no coherency. Jack gaped, face blank as he struggled to even explain his own actions.
“No, Alex! I - I, don’t even…I wasn’t…it’s not like -”
Alex exploded, scared at how easily the anger came to him, letting itself loose. “NO. Don’t even fucking try to tell me that what you were doing, wasn’t like how it looked! I’m not some dumb shit that you can fool, Jack, I’m you’re motherfucking boyfriend!” His hands trembled, in danger of losing grip of the wine bottle in his left hand, the right itching to hit the dancing guy’s face in until it resembled nothing human. Jack tripped over the words as they struggled to get out of his mouth quick enough, breathy and slurred from the alcohol swimming in his veins.
“It’s just some guy, Alex! Calm the fuck down, man, you know that my feelings for you won’t change, have never changed! Don’t fucking pin me down and rip my throat out just because I dance with someone else!” His clouded eyes darkened, white face slightly clammy with a sheen of perspiration. Alex resisted the urge to fling himself at someone.
“That’s beside the point you dick! It’s the way your fucking dancing, like you want to strip him right now, and just fuck him senseless without a second thought for me and how I would be three fucking feet away!” His throat hurt from the emotion that was poured into his voice, the fact that he was now screaming ripping his vocal chords. “Dance with whoever the hell you want, Barakat, but just don’t act like your single!”
Jack glowered, his face shifting into one that was frightening, eyes darkened and changing. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fucking kiss you, or put my hands on your cock so that everyone fucking knows we’re dating? Huh?” He leaned forward aggresively, crushing his lips to Alex’s in a kiss that bruised the tender skin. He pulled back, mouth set into a snarl. “Is that what you want? Does that make you realise that I fucking love you, you paranoid son of a bitch?” He took hold of Alex’s chin and pressed their lips together fiercely again, growling into the kiss that brusied both their lips and crashed their tongues together, teeth biting down to come close to slicing through the skin, leaving noticable imprints. Jack’s hand wrapped around Alex’s waist and yanked him against his body, no space left between their stomachs as the kiss deepened.
And despite the fury that screamed at him to throw a punch at the boy sticking his tongue into his mouth, he couldn’t. Because the honesty of the situation was, that he fucking loved the kid too much to truly hurt him. Even if the punch didn’t bruise, it would torment him endlessly until he thought he could grovel enough to make it up.
That’s what love did. It tore you down until there was nothing left, and tore down some more, exposed your naked soul to someone that could either set it flying or rip it to shreds. And then if they set it flying, an immovable chain was wrapped around your soul, tying you to that person until they figured out what to do with you. Either way, Alex was fucked.
An intoxicated, snarled gasp that was meant to go unheard tore Alex’s lips from Jack’s, already half-swollen from the force and emotion between them. The dancing was long forgotten, and had probably gone to try and steal someone else’s boyfriend.
Rian stood a short distance away, his army outfit going perfectly with his buzz cut hair. But the expression on his face was not one that should be mixed with any sort of violence. He dropped the bottle that was in his hand, the empty plastic bouncing off the linoleum flooring almost silently, but Alex heard the thud of friendship being put on the line as the plastic bounced. And yet, he was wasted, and the state his head was in right now did not do well with subtlety or compassion. This needed to be dealt with, now, or it would rip them even more apart than he had a feeling something would.
Extracting himself from Jack with a frustratingly apologetic glance, he walked over to the other boy, fixing him a stare that forced him to remain where he was. The tight jeans that he’d worn were hot with sweat, the tension in the air beading on his forehead. His make-up was probably running, the straw he’d taped to his shoes and the cuffs of his checked shirt beginning to itch. He could feel how the hair along his hairline stuck to his skin.
“Look, Rian. I’m not gonna beat around the bush or any shit like that, because you deserve better,” his voice was thick with alcohol, words slurring together as his tongue grappled to get around the syllables. “I fucking love Jack, and he better love me or I’ll fucking rip his balls off. I’m sorry, but I doubt that’ll change.”
Staggering back to the counter where his wine bottle was, he noticed that the atmosphere had changed, the writhing sea of bodies slowly moving across the rooms and filtering outside. His brow furrowed as something told him that going outside wasn’t such a good idea - but then, his judgement wasn’t at its best at the moment, because if he was asked to walk in a straight line he’d probably fall over. Amongst the swaying and confusion, he saw Zack fighting his way through the mass of people, eyes slightly unfocused as he stumbled over to them.
“They’ve got a fucking woods out there, everyone’s gonna go and scare themselves shitless. Let’s go!” A childishly excited smile tugged his lips up easily, the size of his pupils increased as the alcohol distorted his vision and left him little worse for wear.
Jack slipped a hand around Alex’s waist. “Fuck yeah!” He crowed, mumbling “oops, shit,” as he took a step forward and tripped, regaining his balance by leaning into Alex as he laughed uncontrollably. Rian had already disappeared, and in the confusion that had panic settled into his insides, he heard a “come on, babe,” in his ear before he was being pulled outside, barely able to take in where he was going.
And then an icy blast of air hit his face, refreshing him slightly and blowing some of the bemusement from his mind. People were running everywhere, the darkness swallowing them as they entered into the thick, foreboding body of the woods, the trees looming in the full moon. Beckoning. Alex began to back up, shaking his head and dropping the wine bottle that had somehow remained in his sweaty fingers. Fear dripped down the side of his face in the form of a salty tear, dread kicking him for not doing anything sooner. But the form that wandered, dangerously unstable, into the woods dragged him by the heart after, calling desperately for them to stop.
“Jack!…JACK!” Alex screamed, swaying and tripping over a stray tree root. He hit the ground hard, swearing loudly as the darkness morphed into shapes and colours in his blurred vision, heart pumping tainted blood around his system and saturating his senses until they didn’t work properly. Groaning, he twisted on the ground and heaved himself up unsteadily, crawling on all fours and holding still before he staggered to his feet, holding his head as it spun.
“Jack, Jack,” the word left his numb lips, blue from the sudden cold, and fear. His feet scuffled over the leaf ridden ground, finding every dip in the ground and catching him out as he jumped at each rustle in the undergrowth. The darkness that shrouded his surroundings had chills creeping up his spine, and frightened tears slid down his face, his pounding head in a different place to his body. The shaky plumes of air that leaked from his mouth were like a smoke message on top of a hill, visible to all with eyes. A fine mist hung in the air as the silvery moonlight cast an eerie light over things that were usually so benevolant; and yet now, they glared at Alex with evil on their minds. He was alone now. The many writhing bodies had dispersed until he was in a secluded part of the woods on his own, twitching at anything that caught his attention, the distant shouts of drunken teenagers calling out into the night every now and then, accompanied by shouts of laughter.
The silence was deafening, and Alex was scared to break it, despite how the one name perched on his tongue begged to be screamed over and over again until that person was safely in his arms. He stumbled further along, eyes groping the darkness blindly, in the hope that he would find someone to help him. Something rustled behind him. He spun around as best he could, over compensating and wobbling as he stared earnestly behind him, the dappled light playing tricks on his eyes. But there was nothing. Nothing but the franctic beating of his heart in his aching chest, and the heavy, panicked breaths that condensed in the night air.
Someone screamed.
The high pitch wailing cut through the silence, raising the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck. It cut off abruptly, gurgling a little as though the vocal chords had been sliced. Alex sobbed.
“Jack! Where the fuck are you?…Jack?” He called, breathless as he put every bit of energy into shouting the only name that mattered right now. Another rustled behind him had him scuttling to stand precariously behind a tree, chest heaving in shallow gasps, on the verge of hyperventilating. The quiet hissing and spitting that sounded close formed words, and Alex strained to hear, whoever it was seemingly oblivious to his presence. Or they were just playing him.
“…need them. Can’t do it without them. It isn’t called the Festival of the Dead for nothing…” The voice trailed off, moving away to his left as his wide eyes darted around him, constantly on the lookout for anyone that he could warn. Because this had been planned.
The emotions that were put into him, his friends. The party. It was all staged for some greater purpose. Feeling the rough bark of the tree on his cold, desensitised fingers, he shifted shakily to check that whoever it was had gone. There was no one around.
Tripping over another tree root and saving himself, Alex ran blindly in the direction that he came, desperate to find Jack, make sure he was safe, and Zack and Rian. Petty differences were long forgotten, and Alex just wanted to get out of here. He ran on, stumbling and swaying as he went, silent tears streaming down his face. Fear tore his mind to pieces, unable to do anything but run blindly away from everything, throwing his arms out to aid his balance, eyes wide and streaming as they darted around. Ripping of the straw that seemed meaningless, he got rid of anything that could hinder his actions, swinging his head over his shoulder to see something black and shapeless rushing toward him.
He let loose a scream.
-
The first thing that Jack noticed was how his face was pressed up against something, squashed uncomfortably. He felt the rope that tied his hands together behind his back, shoulders burning from the angle that they were forced into. His head whirled, and his stomach was dangerously tender, but that was nothing compared to the fear that pumped adrenaline through his body, his breaths coming fast and shallow.
He opened his eyes blearily, frowning as a flickering light stabbed into them. A hissing voice sounded not far off, noticing his movement. Something stirred in his chest, moving underneath the skin and making him cry aloud at the agony that had tears spring in his eyes. His back arched, pushing him harder into the dirty ground and his knees bent upward, desperate to free his hands so he could claw whatever it was out.
“Ah, he wakesss,” the voice rasped, something hard and metal suddenly pressed in between Jack’s shoulder blades. He whimpered, seeing the foot of a robed figure standing by his head, before an order was barked at him.
“Get up!” Jack hissed as the blade was pressed harder into his skin, biting down and cutting through several layers. Bending his knees underneath him, he used his cheek to push himself up and staggered to his feet awkwardly, stumbling over to the hooded figure that stood in the centre of a flaming circle, six other figures holding staffs that were alight. He tried to dig his feet into the soft ground, the dirt providing no grip. But the knife dug further into his back and he felt a hot wetness trickle down the skin, crying aloud at the pain, flinching away from it.
Then he saw the long, curved blade that protruded from the robed figure in front of him, fevered eyes widening. “No, please. No! I - I don’t want to…Don’t do…please,” he begged, voice cracking as he was pushed close to the figure that twisted the blade until it’s point was in line with his chest. Jack screamed as something writhed there, a presence that had caused the lust that had tainted his behaviour the past week.
“Luciferrr,” the voice hissed, stopping Jack’s desperate attempts to escape by touching the blade to the bare skin on his chest. He screamed again, agony calling out for it to end.
“Our pleasure,” the voice rasped again, and suddenly Jack cried out, twitching and lurching as a flash of silver came towards him. Pain like no other exploded in his chest, his vocal chords wrenched in two from the volume and intensity of his screams as metal tore his heart open.
-
Zack was gone…Rian was gone…J - he couldn’t even bring himself to think that. Alex sobbed desperately as he was manhandled over to an alter, his shoulders and chest heaving as grief tore him apart. He was beyond fear now. Nothing else mattered if something had happened to Jack.
A sharp pain at the top of head made him wince as he was forced onto the concrete block, hands tied viciously behind his band. Blade digging into his shoulder blades as panic and denial blurred his vision and cried itself hoarse into the darkness, to the figures that were too cowardly to show their faces as they ripped his shirt open to expose the red hot skin that shifted underneath, something more underneath than just his heart and lungs.
White hot agony lifted his body upwards as though with strings, limp from the unbearable pain and grief as something was pulled from his body. A dark presence lifted from his chest, a deep gutteral growling merging with Alex’s screams.
This was it. He was going to die. Certainty widened his eyes as the hooded figure walked closer towards him, serrated blade pointed at his heart. Good, Alex thought. Cut it out, you bastards. Raw fear was forgotten as he saw another figure walking towards him, holding a second blade, his tall, slim frame sending shock into Alex’s exposed heart.
And amongst the blackness, whirling night and the full moon, the last thing Alex saw before the pain exploded was the broken, white face of his love. Jack. Holding Alex’s heart in his hand, screams mixing with blood on All Hallows Eve.
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