The Endless: Chapter 12
Update...Yay. *Falls asleep now*
Title: The Endless (I now hate this title, but have decided to stick with it)
Genre: fantasy/horror/drama/smut/comedy/randomness
Rating: G to R to NC-17…for blood/violence/explicit sex (later, sorry)/angst/pain/and anything else I can think of
Summary: Bam is a vampire, and Ville is supposed to slay him.
POV: Alternating between first person Bam and first person Ville
Pairing: VAM, eventually, with lots of implications of other pairings.
Author’s Note: Every song I list on here is something that influenced me in some way while writing the chapter. Either the song goes with the mood or events in the chapter, or I obsessively listened to the music on repeat while writing. Or, I borrowed lyrics.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bam (or friends), Ville, Lauri, or the members of HIM. I have never been to Philadelphia, and one of my best friends invented Kamilah. Jaied, other random characters, and the events of the story, however, are my creation and I OWN them. ;
Prologue: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/520.html#cutid1
Chapter 1 and 2: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/815.html#cutid1
Chapter 3: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1189.html#cutid1
Chapter 4: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1339.html#cutid1
Chapter 5: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1708.html#cutid1
Chapter 6: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1367385.html
Chapter 7: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1379765.html
Chapter 8: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1417375.html
Chapter 9: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1432811.html
Chapter 10: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1468207.html
Chapter 11A: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1520329.html#cutid1
Chapter 11B: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1521784.html#cutid1
Chapter 11C: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1555828.html#cutid1
Chapter 12:
Bam…I have to kill you, by March…I don’t have it in me, after all you’ve done for me. So, get the hell out of here and save yourself before it’s too late.
I faltered, disbelief clouding my vision. I could barely understand what I’d just heard. This had all started because it was his job to…kill me? Why, he must have come up to me in the club for no other reason than to…he’d never once really wanted anything from me. It had just been business, the business of getting rid of me. What for? Who would want me dead? What had I done to be hunted like this? My head was spinning, and my heart felt like it was dropping to the pit of my stomach, the only thing keeping me from collapsing a growing bonfire in my throat. I was pissed off, and completely incapable of wondering why.
I still couldn’t help but look at him. I noticed the fierceness in his eyes, the determination. He was now so unlike the shivering helpless child I’d wanted to hold just a moment ago. He was an entity, predatory and dangerous. My cheek twitched, and I shook my head to stop. He was managing to frighten me the way he was…I had no idea what was behind his painted face. Whatever I’d been about to accuse him of melted off my tongue right then. I looked back to the clock: 4:01a.m.
“You have nothing to say?” His eyes were hard, unreadable. He just continued to look into me, or was it through me? Oh, how right he’d been. I don’t know you at all. How foolish of me to think that I understood him at all…well, only in my dreams…
He snapped, again. “No comments? So, you just don’t care that I was about to light you on fire…or have I traumatized you so much that you’ll never be able to speak again?” His head had turned to analyze me, it seemed, as he bent over enough to rest his elbows on his knees, and eye me as if I was some sort of specimen. What…what had caused this sudden change in him?
“Ville, I’m sorry. I’m just really surprised.” I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I shifted my legs around. I couldn’t seem to find a proper place to put them.
He continued his stare, eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t seem weak anymore…he wasn’t vulnerable and in need of my care. I felt the same way I had that first night I’d met him…awkward and totally at his mercy. It wasn’t that he could overpower me physically, it was that I swooned.
He smiled for a moment, but there was obviously no joy in that smile. It was a bitter expression. “I didn’t upset you, did I?”
“I don’t know…I-I just want to ask you more questions, now.”
He laughed. The sound was low and rough, drenched with acid. What was going on? What had I done?…I must have done something wrong. Was he still planning on killing me? Just the glint in his eyes could have convinced me of that.
“Bam…or whatever your real name is, I told you to get the hell out of here. Leave. I’m not answering any questions today…and if you’re smart you won’t be here anytime after that.” He paused, as if he was speaking to a small child, “You know where the door is, don’t you?…I can show you to it if you’ve forgotten.”
I’d thought the bonfire in my throat had died. Well, after these words, I felt it burning even hotter than before, forcing me to open my mouth in protest.
“Why the hell did you bring me in here if you were just going to kick me out?”
“I didn’t bring you in here…you came. Go on, get home before the sun rises and burns you to a crisp.” Not anything like the Ville that had cringed in his sleep and grabbed onto my shoulder. Stupid of me, to think I could know anything about the boy after just two nights with him.
“Why do you want to make me leave? Besides, I didn’t invite myself into your room! I’m not afraid of you, Ville. And, I’m not afraid of whatever person wants you to murder me.” I said this while trying not to tremble too much. “Who is this ‘boss’ of yours? Are you so afraid of him you don’t want me staying here for five more minutes?”
He stood up quickly then, moving gradually closer, until he was standing right over me. He crossed his arms, which was becoming characteristic, his legs spread apart cockily. A smirk distorted his face, one I could only describe as evil. “I should have reminded myself, you can’t ever make them get out after you’ve let them in…” He leaned into me, bracing his arms against the side of the bed, lowering his voice to a growl in my ear. I shivered as his hair tickled my shoulder, his body so near mine. There wasn’t any fighting him…he disarmed me every time I tried to be assertive. He hissed in my ear, “What do I have to do to make you understand you need to make yourself hard to find?! Would a going-away present help? Or do I have to yell at you and claw your eyes out to get it through your thick skull? I’d love it if you could stay, Bam. You’re not making this easy for me.”
I heard myself sigh in exasperation. As weak as my knees were, as much as I wanted to let my neck fall back and just give in to whatever he had in mind…I was furious. He was being ridiculous. This made no sense! His moods seemed to change like the weather…
“What is it, Vil--”, my words slurred with my throbbing head, “Why can’t you answer a single one of my questions? I think you’re the one with a thick skull.”
He didn’t even answer me…in words. Strong hands…stronger than I’d thought a fragile, half-starved seventeen-year-old human could have…grabbed onto my shoulders, pushing me backward onto the bed. I let them. Legs moved over me…across my thighs and torso. It took all I had just to keep from shivering…I didn’t want him to know I was afraid. I didn’t exactly know why I was afraid, I just knew I was vulnerable and I hated it. If it hadn’t been for my pride, the fact that I had to appear so fearless then, I probably would have left the room before it had been too late. He was soon on top of me, sitting on my stomach. I looked up into his eyes…and they weren’t green anymore…all I saw in his eyes was a dense black. They seemed to suck the color from the air surrounding them. Hell…I tried not to gasp. I tried to hold still…he was scaring the shit out of me. There was no need in getting panicked, right? I’d seen this happen before…Kamilah’s eyes turned pink sometimes when she was really happy, and red when she was upset. Wait a minute! How could Ville be human, if his eyes…did that? But, it was obvious he wasn’t a vampire. What was I getting myself into? Who was this gorgeous creature that enthralled me so? What terrible emotion revealed itself behind those smoky eyes?
His face was still animated by that devilish smirk, his head cocked slightly to the side as he looked down at me. His hands moved forward, black fingernails shimmering in the scant light coming through the cracks in the door from the approaching dawn. Cold hands slipped up the inside of my shirt, my body forced to jerk in response. Fingers barely touched my skin, brushing lightly over my nipples and back down to the hem of my shirt. I was gone, a helpless sigh escaping my lips, and the trembling finally getting the best of me. He began tugging at the ends of my shirt, eventually throwing it over the head and the arms that were basically at his command.
The cold air and the silence brought me back to the room, away from whatever drugged, ecstatic place I’d just visited. He was hovering above me, and I was underneath him, shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t seem to quit, and I certainly hadn’t told myself to…my body had decided to act on its own. Then, I remembered. As a human, well…most people wouldn’t think this of me…but I was extremely self-conscious. About my body. See me running around shirtless on television, in an effort to uphold that I-don’t-give-a-fuck act? Not so easy afterwards, when I locked myself in my room, huddled underneath the covers in fear of how I must have looked…hating every imperfection I noticed in myself that no one else ever seemed to pick up on. I’d never been comfortable, I’d never been confident, and I think that’s probably why I acted the way I did back then. Of course now, I was just blatantly frightened. Those black eyes had stripped me of everything: my defenses...my façade...my clothes. It didn’t matter that I could snap his neck faster than eyes could follow…I couldn’t move my hands.
I noticed he was looking downward, face hidden by his black hair. He was staring at the zipper of my pants…
I tried to yell at him. I didn’t want this to happen and I was terrified. I moved my mouth to cry out, but all that came was a strangled “Vil-la…not…”
“Not what, Bam? What don’t you want me to do?” He looked back up, eyes seeming even darker, if that was possible. He moved his hands gracefully to the button on my jeans, causing me to panic and fall apart with lust all at once. I could feel myself hardening behind that zipper, causing me to panic even more. This was horrible. I couldn’t move. I think I was actually paralyzed. I tried to lift my arms up to stop him, but something about those eyes held me down. I was ready to cry…maybe I was just too stressed out, too afraid. I closed my eyes tight, feeling a sharp pain, as if my eyes were going to pop out of my head. I wasn’t even breathing; ready to feel those hands violate the most intimate part of me. I waited, the black behind my eyelids turning to red; nothing happened. I wasn’t about to try opening them, to see what was going on. What could he have planned?
I felt legs brush back against mine, the weight of his body being lifted from me. Coldness came to fill the empty space that his warm body had made. Cold hands slipped away from the front of my jeans, moving back to somewhere the dark behind my lids couldn’t detect. I opened my eyes, wide…when I heard him begin to speak.
“Now, you have a taste of how I’ve felt everyday for the past three years of my life…do I still have to answer your questions?” He was standing over me, watching with cold eyes as I continued to shake, my body limp from some fear I didn’t completely understand. His perfect lips were wet and shimmering in the growing light coming from the closed door, a detail I’m sure only a vampire would notice. He bent down, picking up the shirt he’d taken from me. Throwing it at me, he stood there and stared until I found the strength to put it back on. I could feel the actual physical fatigue settling in my body as the night grew lighter.
I heard Ville’s voice float over the air toward me, “I suggest you make your way back to Kamilah before it gets so bright you can’t move. Trust me, if you didn’t like that, you really don’t want to be here during the day when Ja-I mean-certain sexual predators like to make their rounds…”
Some of my composure regained (I’d put on my shirt and managed to sit up), I looked up at the boy who’d just done something…I wasn’t sure I completely understood. I was truly shaken. He’d just proven to me…how weak I was. I was stunned at how much control a near stranger had over my mind. I wasn’t even considering admitting it, but I think he knew. It made me furious.
“That’s your way of making me understand something?” I was shaking my head, fire throbbing through my veins.
“How else could you understand? Unless you’ve been there before…” His head was down, shoulders slack.
I tried to get back on my feet, and it worked. I felt remarkably clear-headed now, thinking I’d once take his advice. I’d had enough of this; these games. The boy acted as if he needed to be in a mental hospital. God knows what he’d been through to get that way, but I needed to take a break from this unless I wanted to lose my mind, too.
I paused for a moment before opening his bedroom door, looking back at him, the boy that wouldn’t get out of my head. Now, he’d made a lasting impression, I was sure. “Tell me, Ville. One question. Just one. Has there been one thing you’ve done or said in front of me that was honest?”
His head shot up, eyes shining again in their familiar emerald. “Yes, many things.” God-ness, the boy was either a pathological liar, or fucking insane. I was almost hoping he’d lied, but I didn’t bother to ask him. I simply mouthed a goodbye, and turned on my heel, walking to a near run through the living room and out the front door, deciding to take the long way home, considering it was still a good hour or more to daylight. My watch said 4:45a.m.
What’s behind your painted face…
The moment I got home, I collapsed onto my bed, not wanting to think or talk, hardly even noticing that Kamilah wasn’t there and the entire upstairs was completely wrecked, looking like someone had tried to burn it down.
I just fell into one of my deep, dreamless sleeps. A relief, since anymore I hadn’t had the pleasure of sleeping without dreaming of Him.
(Ville)
I stood frozen as he walked away from me into the living room, and cringed when I heard the front door open then slam shut. He would be gone…forever if he was smart. I hadn’t wanted to act like that…to do that to him, but I knew I had to make him upset to get him to go away and save himself. I could see no other way. I really just wanted to give myself a beating…knowing I couldn’t have been thinking clearly with all the vodka I’d slipped into myself, and only half remembering some of my thoughts and actions…I felt like shit.
Better go lock the door, lest some random stranger just comes skipping through the door with a gun, or something worse. I hobbled the best I could through the living room and to the front door, and turned the latch. Pain filled every step I took, the damage I’d done earlier finally catching up to me. God, it hurt! But, I loved this. That’s really why I couldn’t let Bam heal me…because I liked the pain that came afterwards…it helped me to forget who I was. I couldn’t let him take that away, no matter how good his intentions were. I made my way back across the light-streaked room, taking note of the chandelier sparkling in the moonlight coming from the window. No, wait. That was just a streetlamp from the phone line outside, making the chandelier look that beautiful. The moon never shown through the windows of this house.
I stumbled back through the darkness of the hallway to my room, closing my eyes (since I couldn’t see anyway) to block out the tears that I knew would come of the stinging I felt behind my lids.
I felt for the door with my arm, wincing when I stretched it out, and closed it behind me when I found the handle. I was safe now; behind this door not even Jaeid could get to me without me knowing first. I sighed, relieved and guilty all at once. There was no sense in thinking about him anymore; my Bam was gone. And, he wasn’t my Bam…he was just gone. Oh, but I shouldn’t have ever been that harsh. I’d frightened him, made him feel helpless---I’d done so much more than just try to make him leave. If I remembered one thing well, it had been how scared I’d made him. I couldn’t understand why he’d been shaking. All he would have had to do to get me off of him would have been to push me…throw me in the floor. I wouldn’t have been able to keep him down, and he knew it. Oh, shit. I could have made him go in a gentler manner.
How could I treat him so horribly, after all the crap he’d put up with just to benefit me? Saving my life more than once…he’d gotten shot in the back for my sake, and I think I would have died tonight if he hadn’t rung the doorbell…
I didn’t even want to think about the way he’d had me strip down and had licked my wounds…Never in my life have I felt that vulnerable and not been afraid. Sure, at first I was absolutely positive I was going to get raped…and I hardly even cared. He’d be more welcome than Jaeid. But, then he’d done nothing but hold me. I’d been so confused, and it had made me angry. Maybe that’s some of the reason I’d been so cold to him.
Between the vodka and my inexhaustible anger, I’d made a complete disaster of ever redeeming myself in his eyes. I was just a mess he would never want to clean up. And, I didn’t blame him.
I didn’t really remember all of the things I’d done and said; I just knew that they’d been horrendous and cruel. He would run from me just to maintain his sanity…
The bed looked really inviting right then…I went over to it (slowly), and laid down on my back, that being about the only position I could manage without putting myself in unbearable pain and opening all those cuts again. I cared!? Hmm…funny. Never before had I given a shit whether or not they ever healed or stopped bleeding.
I must have passed out at some point between then and the alarm going off at six. I had, amazingly, not cried. I hadn’t wanted to cry…I hated it. I couldn’t seem to quit once I stopped, so I was always crying.
Well, when the alarm went off I decided immediately that I was going to school. It would be so much better than staying here and risking a visit from that man. I turned the alarm off, sauntered dizzily into the bathroom, closed the door, and stripped. Shower time. It always hurt the worst before a shower…and then soap, scalding water, and alcohol drained most of the remaining feeling from my wounds. It was freezing in here. Why is this house always so fucking cold?
Turn on the water, step in the tub…Try not to cry as the water falls on my face like rain. It would be fine…if I cry in the shower there’s rarely any tear streaks to show people my secret shame. But, I won’t cry. I can deal with this. I have to be stronger than this. Crying never helps; it’s a waste of time. It only makes you realize what a pathetic piece of dirt you are…and I just want to forget and never think again.
Turn off the water, step out of the shower, dripping with heat, water, and blood. Dripping with despair and fatigue.
Grab my towel. (It’s less than a step away.) Wrap it around my waist. Don’t look down at myself…I don’t want to see my body. I avoid gazing into the mirror as I walk over to the sink. Reach into the cabinet and grab my blow dryer. This is the way I do it every morning. I don’t have time to sit around and dry naturally.
Throw the towel into the floor, and plug the blow dryer in…Turn it on high and on as hot as possible. Burn my body and fry my hair every morning. This day feels like everyday, except I lost something. Something came into my life…something that could have changed everything. Now, because of me, it’s gone. I must have wanted it to be that way. No, it just had to be that way. Better to lose it now, though, than after I’ve gotten attached. He better not come back…I can just imagine him sitting on the doorstep like a sad, homeless puppy…but I know he won’t. Why does it make me want to ball my eyes out?
Turn the dryer off. My skin is stinging, but my hair looks good. Put it away, and then open the box where I put my razor. It’s bloody, of course. I need a new one.
Get a new razor and work on my face. I just cut myself; it was an accident. I swear it to myself. Oh, well. I like the way it looks. One little red line trickling crimson. Dammit, I need a paper towel now. Oh, no need for that…just wipe it with my finger and lick the blood from it afterwards.
Time for clothes. Run to my room, throw on a pair of torn blue-jeans (it hurts like a bitch putting them on) and throw on a -Yellow?- no, not yellow…-Black- long sleeved shirt. Socks that don’t match on my feet, and the only pair of shoes I seem to wear anymore.
Now, for my favorite part. Have to put on makeup now. Back into the bathroom…grab the eyeliner and the rogue, and the foundation…and the lip-gloss…eye shadow just for kicks. All the things I hear I don’t need to make myself beautiful, and yet without it I’d be even less than nothing. I really can’t leave the house without it. So, I labor through each step, first the eyeliner, then the foundation…lip-gloss, rogue, eye shadow…all the time looking into that mirror that shows everything about myself I never wanted to see.
Finished with makeup…time to get my stuff.
Grab my backpack, throwing on my gigantic fur coat that comes past my knees, and taking the one notebook I keep beside me all the time and use for nothing. I make my way down the hall.
Walk into the living room and almost have a heart attack, trying not to scream or jump at the fear that runs through me. I see a very unwelcome, out of place sight. There stands my ‘Sir’, at the foot of the stairs, blocking my way to the door. Shit, if I’d just been a little faster. If the way I looked wasn’t the only thing I cared about anymore, and doing my make-up hadn’t been life or death to me…
There he stands, wearing all black and an ominous smile. He leans against the stair railing…legs crossed casually. That’s the thing about him…he’s so good at coming off as uncaring, you wouldn’t guess there’s a volcano of anger and violence underneath that cool surface.
I think about bolting for the door, but know better than to even try. I just walk into the room, attempting to look only tired and curious as to why he’s there.
“You’re not going to school today, pet.” That horrible smile again. The one that made me stutter and shiver, the one that made me pick up the razor. I knew this would be a terrible, terrible day. Try to look cute, Ville! I gave him my demure face, trying my best to pout; so as to cover the maddening need to cry.
“I-I’m not? What am I doing, then?”
Ick. I hope YOU liked it.
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Title: The Endless (I now hate this title, but have decided to stick with it)
Genre: fantasy/horror/drama/smut/comedy/randomness
Rating: G to R to NC-17…for blood/violence/explicit sex (later, sorry)/angst/pain/and anything else I can think of
Summary: Bam is a vampire, and Ville is supposed to slay him.
POV: Alternating between first person Bam and first person Ville
Pairing: VAM, eventually, with lots of implications of other pairings.
Author’s Note: Every song I list on here is something that influenced me in some way while writing the chapter. Either the song goes with the mood or events in the chapter, or I obsessively listened to the music on repeat while writing. Or, I borrowed lyrics.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Bam (or friends), Ville, Lauri, or the members of HIM. I have never been to Philadelphia, and one of my best friends invented Kamilah. Jaied, other random characters, and the events of the story, however, are my creation and I OWN them. ;
Prologue: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/520.html#cutid1
Chapter 1 and 2: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/815.html#cutid1
Chapter 3: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1189.html#cutid1
Chapter 4: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1339.html#cutid1
Chapter 5: http://swampwitch9666.livejournal.com/1708.html#cutid1
Chapter 6: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1367385.html
Chapter 7: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1379765.html
Chapter 8: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1417375.html
Chapter 9: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1432811.html
Chapter 10: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1468207.html
Chapter 11A: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1520329.html#cutid1
Chapter 11B: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1521784.html#cutid1
Chapter 11C: http://community.livejournal.com/__vam/1555828.html#cutid1
Chapter 12:
Bam…I have to kill you, by March…I don’t have it in me, after all you’ve done for me. So, get the hell out of here and save yourself before it’s too late.
I faltered, disbelief clouding my vision. I could barely understand what I’d just heard. This had all started because it was his job to…kill me? Why, he must have come up to me in the club for no other reason than to…he’d never once really wanted anything from me. It had just been business, the business of getting rid of me. What for? Who would want me dead? What had I done to be hunted like this? My head was spinning, and my heart felt like it was dropping to the pit of my stomach, the only thing keeping me from collapsing a growing bonfire in my throat. I was pissed off, and completely incapable of wondering why.
I still couldn’t help but look at him. I noticed the fierceness in his eyes, the determination. He was now so unlike the shivering helpless child I’d wanted to hold just a moment ago. He was an entity, predatory and dangerous. My cheek twitched, and I shook my head to stop. He was managing to frighten me the way he was…I had no idea what was behind his painted face. Whatever I’d been about to accuse him of melted off my tongue right then. I looked back to the clock: 4:01a.m.
“You have nothing to say?” His eyes were hard, unreadable. He just continued to look into me, or was it through me? Oh, how right he’d been. I don’t know you at all. How foolish of me to think that I understood him at all…well, only in my dreams…
He snapped, again. “No comments? So, you just don’t care that I was about to light you on fire…or have I traumatized you so much that you’ll never be able to speak again?” His head had turned to analyze me, it seemed, as he bent over enough to rest his elbows on his knees, and eye me as if I was some sort of specimen. What…what had caused this sudden change in him?
“Ville, I’m sorry. I’m just really surprised.” I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I shifted my legs around. I couldn’t seem to find a proper place to put them.
He continued his stare, eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t seem weak anymore…he wasn’t vulnerable and in need of my care. I felt the same way I had that first night I’d met him…awkward and totally at his mercy. It wasn’t that he could overpower me physically, it was that I swooned.
He smiled for a moment, but there was obviously no joy in that smile. It was a bitter expression. “I didn’t upset you, did I?”
“I don’t know…I-I just want to ask you more questions, now.”
He laughed. The sound was low and rough, drenched with acid. What was going on? What had I done?…I must have done something wrong. Was he still planning on killing me? Just the glint in his eyes could have convinced me of that.
“Bam…or whatever your real name is, I told you to get the hell out of here. Leave. I’m not answering any questions today…and if you’re smart you won’t be here anytime after that.” He paused, as if he was speaking to a small child, “You know where the door is, don’t you?…I can show you to it if you’ve forgotten.”
I’d thought the bonfire in my throat had died. Well, after these words, I felt it burning even hotter than before, forcing me to open my mouth in protest.
“Why the hell did you bring me in here if you were just going to kick me out?”
“I didn’t bring you in here…you came. Go on, get home before the sun rises and burns you to a crisp.” Not anything like the Ville that had cringed in his sleep and grabbed onto my shoulder. Stupid of me, to think I could know anything about the boy after just two nights with him.
“Why do you want to make me leave? Besides, I didn’t invite myself into your room! I’m not afraid of you, Ville. And, I’m not afraid of whatever person wants you to murder me.” I said this while trying not to tremble too much. “Who is this ‘boss’ of yours? Are you so afraid of him you don’t want me staying here for five more minutes?”
He stood up quickly then, moving gradually closer, until he was standing right over me. He crossed his arms, which was becoming characteristic, his legs spread apart cockily. A smirk distorted his face, one I could only describe as evil. “I should have reminded myself, you can’t ever make them get out after you’ve let them in…” He leaned into me, bracing his arms against the side of the bed, lowering his voice to a growl in my ear. I shivered as his hair tickled my shoulder, his body so near mine. There wasn’t any fighting him…he disarmed me every time I tried to be assertive. He hissed in my ear, “What do I have to do to make you understand you need to make yourself hard to find?! Would a going-away present help? Or do I have to yell at you and claw your eyes out to get it through your thick skull? I’d love it if you could stay, Bam. You’re not making this easy for me.”
I heard myself sigh in exasperation. As weak as my knees were, as much as I wanted to let my neck fall back and just give in to whatever he had in mind…I was furious. He was being ridiculous. This made no sense! His moods seemed to change like the weather…
“What is it, Vil--”, my words slurred with my throbbing head, “Why can’t you answer a single one of my questions? I think you’re the one with a thick skull.”
He didn’t even answer me…in words. Strong hands…stronger than I’d thought a fragile, half-starved seventeen-year-old human could have…grabbed onto my shoulders, pushing me backward onto the bed. I let them. Legs moved over me…across my thighs and torso. It took all I had just to keep from shivering…I didn’t want him to know I was afraid. I didn’t exactly know why I was afraid, I just knew I was vulnerable and I hated it. If it hadn’t been for my pride, the fact that I had to appear so fearless then, I probably would have left the room before it had been too late. He was soon on top of me, sitting on my stomach. I looked up into his eyes…and they weren’t green anymore…all I saw in his eyes was a dense black. They seemed to suck the color from the air surrounding them. Hell…I tried not to gasp. I tried to hold still…he was scaring the shit out of me. There was no need in getting panicked, right? I’d seen this happen before…Kamilah’s eyes turned pink sometimes when she was really happy, and red when she was upset. Wait a minute! How could Ville be human, if his eyes…did that? But, it was obvious he wasn’t a vampire. What was I getting myself into? Who was this gorgeous creature that enthralled me so? What terrible emotion revealed itself behind those smoky eyes?
His face was still animated by that devilish smirk, his head cocked slightly to the side as he looked down at me. His hands moved forward, black fingernails shimmering in the scant light coming through the cracks in the door from the approaching dawn. Cold hands slipped up the inside of my shirt, my body forced to jerk in response. Fingers barely touched my skin, brushing lightly over my nipples and back down to the hem of my shirt. I was gone, a helpless sigh escaping my lips, and the trembling finally getting the best of me. He began tugging at the ends of my shirt, eventually throwing it over the head and the arms that were basically at his command.
The cold air and the silence brought me back to the room, away from whatever drugged, ecstatic place I’d just visited. He was hovering above me, and I was underneath him, shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t seem to quit, and I certainly hadn’t told myself to…my body had decided to act on its own. Then, I remembered. As a human, well…most people wouldn’t think this of me…but I was extremely self-conscious. About my body. See me running around shirtless on television, in an effort to uphold that I-don’t-give-a-fuck act? Not so easy afterwards, when I locked myself in my room, huddled underneath the covers in fear of how I must have looked…hating every imperfection I noticed in myself that no one else ever seemed to pick up on. I’d never been comfortable, I’d never been confident, and I think that’s probably why I acted the way I did back then. Of course now, I was just blatantly frightened. Those black eyes had stripped me of everything: my defenses...my façade...my clothes. It didn’t matter that I could snap his neck faster than eyes could follow…I couldn’t move my hands.
I noticed he was looking downward, face hidden by his black hair. He was staring at the zipper of my pants…
I tried to yell at him. I didn’t want this to happen and I was terrified. I moved my mouth to cry out, but all that came was a strangled “Vil-la…not…”
“Not what, Bam? What don’t you want me to do?” He looked back up, eyes seeming even darker, if that was possible. He moved his hands gracefully to the button on my jeans, causing me to panic and fall apart with lust all at once. I could feel myself hardening behind that zipper, causing me to panic even more. This was horrible. I couldn’t move. I think I was actually paralyzed. I tried to lift my arms up to stop him, but something about those eyes held me down. I was ready to cry…maybe I was just too stressed out, too afraid. I closed my eyes tight, feeling a sharp pain, as if my eyes were going to pop out of my head. I wasn’t even breathing; ready to feel those hands violate the most intimate part of me. I waited, the black behind my eyelids turning to red; nothing happened. I wasn’t about to try opening them, to see what was going on. What could he have planned?
I felt legs brush back against mine, the weight of his body being lifted from me. Coldness came to fill the empty space that his warm body had made. Cold hands slipped away from the front of my jeans, moving back to somewhere the dark behind my lids couldn’t detect. I opened my eyes, wide…when I heard him begin to speak.
“Now, you have a taste of how I’ve felt everyday for the past three years of my life…do I still have to answer your questions?” He was standing over me, watching with cold eyes as I continued to shake, my body limp from some fear I didn’t completely understand. His perfect lips were wet and shimmering in the growing light coming from the closed door, a detail I’m sure only a vampire would notice. He bent down, picking up the shirt he’d taken from me. Throwing it at me, he stood there and stared until I found the strength to put it back on. I could feel the actual physical fatigue settling in my body as the night grew lighter.
I heard Ville’s voice float over the air toward me, “I suggest you make your way back to Kamilah before it gets so bright you can’t move. Trust me, if you didn’t like that, you really don’t want to be here during the day when Ja-I mean-certain sexual predators like to make their rounds…”
Some of my composure regained (I’d put on my shirt and managed to sit up), I looked up at the boy who’d just done something…I wasn’t sure I completely understood. I was truly shaken. He’d just proven to me…how weak I was. I was stunned at how much control a near stranger had over my mind. I wasn’t even considering admitting it, but I think he knew. It made me furious.
“That’s your way of making me understand something?” I was shaking my head, fire throbbing through my veins.
“How else could you understand? Unless you’ve been there before…” His head was down, shoulders slack.
I tried to get back on my feet, and it worked. I felt remarkably clear-headed now, thinking I’d once take his advice. I’d had enough of this; these games. The boy acted as if he needed to be in a mental hospital. God knows what he’d been through to get that way, but I needed to take a break from this unless I wanted to lose my mind, too.
I paused for a moment before opening his bedroom door, looking back at him, the boy that wouldn’t get out of my head. Now, he’d made a lasting impression, I was sure. “Tell me, Ville. One question. Just one. Has there been one thing you’ve done or said in front of me that was honest?”
His head shot up, eyes shining again in their familiar emerald. “Yes, many things.” God-ness, the boy was either a pathological liar, or fucking insane. I was almost hoping he’d lied, but I didn’t bother to ask him. I simply mouthed a goodbye, and turned on my heel, walking to a near run through the living room and out the front door, deciding to take the long way home, considering it was still a good hour or more to daylight. My watch said 4:45a.m.
What’s behind your painted face…
The moment I got home, I collapsed onto my bed, not wanting to think or talk, hardly even noticing that Kamilah wasn’t there and the entire upstairs was completely wrecked, looking like someone had tried to burn it down.
I just fell into one of my deep, dreamless sleeps. A relief, since anymore I hadn’t had the pleasure of sleeping without dreaming of Him.
(Ville)
I stood frozen as he walked away from me into the living room, and cringed when I heard the front door open then slam shut. He would be gone…forever if he was smart. I hadn’t wanted to act like that…to do that to him, but I knew I had to make him upset to get him to go away and save himself. I could see no other way. I really just wanted to give myself a beating…knowing I couldn’t have been thinking clearly with all the vodka I’d slipped into myself, and only half remembering some of my thoughts and actions…I felt like shit.
Better go lock the door, lest some random stranger just comes skipping through the door with a gun, or something worse. I hobbled the best I could through the living room and to the front door, and turned the latch. Pain filled every step I took, the damage I’d done earlier finally catching up to me. God, it hurt! But, I loved this. That’s really why I couldn’t let Bam heal me…because I liked the pain that came afterwards…it helped me to forget who I was. I couldn’t let him take that away, no matter how good his intentions were. I made my way back across the light-streaked room, taking note of the chandelier sparkling in the moonlight coming from the window. No, wait. That was just a streetlamp from the phone line outside, making the chandelier look that beautiful. The moon never shown through the windows of this house.
I stumbled back through the darkness of the hallway to my room, closing my eyes (since I couldn’t see anyway) to block out the tears that I knew would come of the stinging I felt behind my lids.
I felt for the door with my arm, wincing when I stretched it out, and closed it behind me when I found the handle. I was safe now; behind this door not even Jaeid could get to me without me knowing first. I sighed, relieved and guilty all at once. There was no sense in thinking about him anymore; my Bam was gone. And, he wasn’t my Bam…he was just gone. Oh, but I shouldn’t have ever been that harsh. I’d frightened him, made him feel helpless---I’d done so much more than just try to make him leave. If I remembered one thing well, it had been how scared I’d made him. I couldn’t understand why he’d been shaking. All he would have had to do to get me off of him would have been to push me…throw me in the floor. I wouldn’t have been able to keep him down, and he knew it. Oh, shit. I could have made him go in a gentler manner.
How could I treat him so horribly, after all the crap he’d put up with just to benefit me? Saving my life more than once…he’d gotten shot in the back for my sake, and I think I would have died tonight if he hadn’t rung the doorbell…
I didn’t even want to think about the way he’d had me strip down and had licked my wounds…Never in my life have I felt that vulnerable and not been afraid. Sure, at first I was absolutely positive I was going to get raped…and I hardly even cared. He’d be more welcome than Jaeid. But, then he’d done nothing but hold me. I’d been so confused, and it had made me angry. Maybe that’s some of the reason I’d been so cold to him.
Between the vodka and my inexhaustible anger, I’d made a complete disaster of ever redeeming myself in his eyes. I was just a mess he would never want to clean up. And, I didn’t blame him.
I didn’t really remember all of the things I’d done and said; I just knew that they’d been horrendous and cruel. He would run from me just to maintain his sanity…
The bed looked really inviting right then…I went over to it (slowly), and laid down on my back, that being about the only position I could manage without putting myself in unbearable pain and opening all those cuts again. I cared!? Hmm…funny. Never before had I given a shit whether or not they ever healed or stopped bleeding.
I must have passed out at some point between then and the alarm going off at six. I had, amazingly, not cried. I hadn’t wanted to cry…I hated it. I couldn’t seem to quit once I stopped, so I was always crying.
Well, when the alarm went off I decided immediately that I was going to school. It would be so much better than staying here and risking a visit from that man. I turned the alarm off, sauntered dizzily into the bathroom, closed the door, and stripped. Shower time. It always hurt the worst before a shower…and then soap, scalding water, and alcohol drained most of the remaining feeling from my wounds. It was freezing in here. Why is this house always so fucking cold?
Turn on the water, step in the tub…Try not to cry as the water falls on my face like rain. It would be fine…if I cry in the shower there’s rarely any tear streaks to show people my secret shame. But, I won’t cry. I can deal with this. I have to be stronger than this. Crying never helps; it’s a waste of time. It only makes you realize what a pathetic piece of dirt you are…and I just want to forget and never think again.
Turn off the water, step out of the shower, dripping with heat, water, and blood. Dripping with despair and fatigue.
Grab my towel. (It’s less than a step away.) Wrap it around my waist. Don’t look down at myself…I don’t want to see my body. I avoid gazing into the mirror as I walk over to the sink. Reach into the cabinet and grab my blow dryer. This is the way I do it every morning. I don’t have time to sit around and dry naturally.
Throw the towel into the floor, and plug the blow dryer in…Turn it on high and on as hot as possible. Burn my body and fry my hair every morning. This day feels like everyday, except I lost something. Something came into my life…something that could have changed everything. Now, because of me, it’s gone. I must have wanted it to be that way. No, it just had to be that way. Better to lose it now, though, than after I’ve gotten attached. He better not come back…I can just imagine him sitting on the doorstep like a sad, homeless puppy…but I know he won’t. Why does it make me want to ball my eyes out?
Turn the dryer off. My skin is stinging, but my hair looks good. Put it away, and then open the box where I put my razor. It’s bloody, of course. I need a new one.
Get a new razor and work on my face. I just cut myself; it was an accident. I swear it to myself. Oh, well. I like the way it looks. One little red line trickling crimson. Dammit, I need a paper towel now. Oh, no need for that…just wipe it with my finger and lick the blood from it afterwards.
Time for clothes. Run to my room, throw on a pair of torn blue-jeans (it hurts like a bitch putting them on) and throw on a -Yellow?- no, not yellow…-Black- long sleeved shirt. Socks that don’t match on my feet, and the only pair of shoes I seem to wear anymore.
Now, for my favorite part. Have to put on makeup now. Back into the bathroom…grab the eyeliner and the rogue, and the foundation…and the lip-gloss…eye shadow just for kicks. All the things I hear I don’t need to make myself beautiful, and yet without it I’d be even less than nothing. I really can’t leave the house without it. So, I labor through each step, first the eyeliner, then the foundation…lip-gloss, rogue, eye shadow…all the time looking into that mirror that shows everything about myself I never wanted to see.
Finished with makeup…time to get my stuff.
Grab my backpack, throwing on my gigantic fur coat that comes past my knees, and taking the one notebook I keep beside me all the time and use for nothing. I make my way down the hall.
Walk into the living room and almost have a heart attack, trying not to scream or jump at the fear that runs through me. I see a very unwelcome, out of place sight. There stands my ‘Sir’, at the foot of the stairs, blocking my way to the door. Shit, if I’d just been a little faster. If the way I looked wasn’t the only thing I cared about anymore, and doing my make-up hadn’t been life or death to me…
There he stands, wearing all black and an ominous smile. He leans against the stair railing…legs crossed casually. That’s the thing about him…he’s so good at coming off as uncaring, you wouldn’t guess there’s a volcano of anger and violence underneath that cool surface.
I think about bolting for the door, but know better than to even try. I just walk into the room, attempting to look only tired and curious as to why he’s there.
“You’re not going to school today, pet.” That horrible smile again. The one that made me stutter and shiver, the one that made me pick up the razor. I knew this would be a terrible, terrible day. Try to look cute, Ville! I gave him my demure face, trying my best to pout; so as to cover the maddening need to cry.
“I-I’m not? What am I doing, then?”
Ick. I hope YOU liked it.
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