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 Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:09 pm
It had been a tough week on Demy. A week of awkward shuffling around the dorm and attempts to avoid his roomie. It wasn't easy, afterall he constantly followed Z around like a giant lost puppy. But no...Z had said he wasn't happy. Z wasn't happy. And above all Demy -wanted- him to be happy, so if that meant leaving him alone then so be it.
Even if it was breaking his own heart.
He had gone out, leaving the dorm without so much as a word to anyone. Gone out to clear his head and get a burger and just relax. Afterwards he'd head back home, get some sleep, and head to classes the next day.
It was a perfect plan, but not being the master strategist his roomie was he never factored in the fact that the burger joint would be jam-packed with older teens, those with too much energy and not enough things to burn it on. Destructive energy, even. And it hadn't been too long before he had managed to say the wrong thing (hey, Z wasn't there to guide him afterall), and gotten his a** dragged out into the nearby alley for a good old fashioned beat down.
Now, what his enemies hadn't factored in was that the person they were beating the ever loving hell out of was one of those uniformed 'terrorists' talked about on TV. When his typical good charms and fists didn't get him out of the fight, it was time to change tactics. He had shifted into Scheelite, and then it was their turn to be beat down.
He would have left them there, afterall they didn't deserve to be 'saved' from the shinies in their chest. But something spoke to him. Whispered words encouraging him to 'finish' the fight, so they'd never bother anyone ever again. These words ringing in his ears he found his hand plunging into their chests one after the other, gripping the shiny thing inside and yanking it out. Through their terrified and pain-filled howls he did this.
And he found, that he liked it.
Salvation be damned, there was something liberating in grabbing a hold of that fluttering gem within a person and watching them squirm before ripping it out. It was a shame it was helping them (or, so he continued to tell the dark voice within. He's helping people, -really- ).
A short while later he was heading home, a nice collection of starseeds jingling in his pocket (he hadn't left a single witness to what had gone on in the alley afterall), and a cup of soda in his hand. It was tiring, trying to lift his arm to his mouth to sip it. He hurt, pretty much everywhere. The bruise lacing his eye was swelling quite nicely, and all over he felt where black and blue would color by morning. There was blood too, he could feel it running courses down his arms and underneath his uniform.
He didn't care.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:22 pm
It had been far more tense a week than he had anticipated. His leaving the room, had created a sort of transparent barrier that was far more effective than any tape he could ever have laid down on the floor.
And more oddly, he found he was hating it.
Dem would sometimes not even reply to his twitters or AIM's, the quiet way of spanning the room and the seemingly endless gap that suddenly separated them.
He had his apology, at last in his pocket... stupid really, he was more than sure Dem had one, but he had a sliver of hope that, since he had to mail order it, that the shirt, with its sound effects touch reactions, ((which would annoy him to hell he was sure)) ... was something that Dem -might- not have.
The problem was, even with it tucked under his arm, he was afraid to give it to Dem, afraid to admit that any of this bothered him.
... wait... was that, Dem? it... almost looked like him but -not- at the same time?
What could it hurt to ask?
"Demy?" He called curious
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:38 pm
He almost didn't hear it through the pain filled haze of his mind. It tugged somewhere in the back of his thoughts. Someone was calling him...right? That was his name?
From anyone watching, the 'stranger' really didn't react to the name. No..it was the simple act of seeing another that made him switch courses and walk over. And no, it wasn't Demy's usual warm friendly gaze that Z found looking down at him, but rather the cold cruel gaze of someone who had just been pushed too far.
Without a word he had grabbed the smaller boy's arm and was forcibly dragging him into the darkness of an alley. Glowsticks lit up the shadows, a fun plaything when in Demy's hands, but somehow this just seemed dark and ominous.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:47 pm
Zac gave a cry of surprise and pain as his arm was grabbed and pulled, wrenching him down the alley way. "OW...Dem??!" He demanded, but that -look- chilled him to the bone. NOT Dem, SO not Dem, it was -almost- Dem, it was Dem's evil twin, but it was NOT Dem.
He clutched his package to him, precious cargo for the real Dem in its soft plastic packaging, only a small miracle kept it from playing some odd discordant tune from his arm pressing on it.
"let GO!" he demanded with rising alarm.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 6:56 pm
Go on, take it. It'll be one more for your collection. Won't the General-king be proud?
This kid hadn't done anything...
No? Are you so sure?
What did the voice mean? He didn't know this kid. Didn't know him at all.
The world needs to be cleansed of filth like him. They must be cleansed of their own filth. Take it...
Letting go? Wasn't going to happen. Rather there was suddenly one hand held chokingly around his neck, the other at his waist, and Z would find himself lifted off the ground and pressed HARD against the alley wall.
He was twitching, his muscles screaming at him for doing yet more work and yet that voice whispering at him to continue right along. He hurt..he hurt a lot. The blood and the bruises and dear god he could barely see out of his blackened eye.
But the grip held firm, and Z would find those cold green eyes staring up at him.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:10 pm
He gripped the arm that grabbed his neck, levering him up the wall of the alley way, Trying to make a sound loud enough to draw attention to this 'problem' he was having in the shadows, but all he could manage was a strangled noise as his shoes scraped against the wall struggling for purchase on the wall, something to give him more -air- as it was increasingly in short supply.
He kicked out on an impulse with one foot trying to dislodge his attacker but his aim was poor, a -graze- against the leg and little more. Panic left him scrambling again for purchase, clawing at the hand to try and loose the grip that seemed, supernaturally strong.
"Hrrk!!" His fingernails clawd at the black gloves, the fingers leaving the starts of bruises around his neck. What...what had he DONE?! It wasn't even someone he knew, not quite, there were similarities, the eyes, but at the same time, the depths of those same eyes were... alien, dangerous.
"P.... p....please...s...stop..." He managed to choke out, his eyes watering and sparks dancing at the edge of his vision.
Part of him already screaming he was going to die, the rest, in utter denial, if he could just -reason- with them.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:23 pm
The pleas and struggles fell on deaf ears. His mind was too clouded, too confused, and all he had managed to latch onto was that little voice telling him to take just one more starseed. Purify just one more person. Then...then his bed at home was calling him.
This person should be thankful. He was doing them a favor! And for all that the familiarity was tugging at part of his brain, Schee just couldn't figure it out. It was no matter, he was helping -whoever- this was, familiar person or not.
"No escaping when I start..."
The words were whispered, in a slight...singsong voice. There was a grin crossing the face looking up at Z.
"Once I'm in I own your heart..."
At the word 'in' the hand by Z's waist had been moved and plunged into his chest to quickly wrap around the starseed within.
"There's no way to ring the alarm..."
No. No one would be coming down that alley to stop the process. Z was on his own.
"So hold on until it's over!"
And yet...he didn't make the final move of yanking it right out. Because something was bothering him.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:39 pm
this wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening...
It -hurt-, it wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before, it was completely, utterly invasive. His body convulsed twitching and arcing in spasms of pain.
Singing... he was ******** singing to him while he... did what? Plunged his hand into his chest in utter agony.
And he couldn't -breathe-, his fingers were loosing what purchase they had on the arm that pinned him, what little hold he had left when all other control was lost like tangled puppet strings. His eyes rolling back skyward like a plea for survival that was yet unanswered, all surrounding that -lingering- hand.
The world was fading to black at the edges like a cheep end to a movie as his hands slipped free.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 7:46 pm
The singing had stopped. The grin had faded. Hell he wasn't moving anymore.
This...this was wrong.
Because this wasn't some random stranger. THIS WAS Z. This was Z OH ******** this was Z.
The hand left Z's chest...empty. No removal of starseed, no nothing. Schee was mentally screaming at himself for ever doing something SO STUPID. He was hurting Z. HE. WAS HURTING. Z.
Taking his starseed wasn't helping. The shiny...it...it had to stay in Z. That pain filled face. He was causing that. He was hurting Z. And no matter how much the inner voice jabbed and taunted him for stopping halfway through (lord the general-king was going to be pissed...) he couldn't do it. He couldn't. hurt. Z.
You can't kill Z. You're weak...
....K-kill? Oh god what? Kill? No..no! He wasn't killing anyone! He was helping them. HELPING THEM. But for some reason it was hurting Z..and he couldn't do that.
He just couldn't.
As quickly as it had come the hand around his throat was gone, and Z was set 'carefully' back on the ground. Schee was hurting...hurting so bad..and he didn't mean it but he may have just dropped Z. But he'd be okay! Oh please god say he'd be okay!
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 8:03 pm
A final shudder as the hand pulled free, a moment before he realized that he could breathe again or some part of him did that was not quite related to consciousness as that was fading dangerously in and out.
His knees gave out as he was lowered, half dropped back to the ground and he collapsed to the pavement coughing and wheezing for air.
He tried to push himself up and fell back, his arms shaking too much to aid him in any kind of get away.
But at least, he wasn't being hurt anymore, the ache was residual, but what just -happened- there?!
He chanced it, glancing up with bleary eyes at his captor of just moments ago, possibly even captor -moments- from now in some kind of cat and mouse. Green eyes, such a bright green, like Dems, and yet different even than before. Anxious, worried, what the -hell-.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 8:14 pm
Anxious? Yes. Those green eyes were shifting all over the place and he couldn't stop himself from fidgeting. Definitely worried too..but Z was okay! Look, he was totally fine! Shaken up, kinda hurt...but fine. He would be okay.
Inward sigh of relief.
But..oh god he really had done it. He had hurt the person in the world he wished absolutely no harm on. Just...oh god. He couldn't think. He could hardly breathe
WHAT THE ******** HAD HE BEEN THINKING?!
One last terrified glance at Z (he was okay, really..he was okay), and the stranger was gone like a flash. He wasn't running very well at all, but it was enough to get him out of here and that's all that mattered. And there, at the entrance to the alley, a single glowstick found it's way to the ground after being ripped from Scheelite's outfit by something jutting out in the dark.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2009 8:30 pm
He found he was shivering without reason as he finally pushed himself up to at least sit, his back to the wall, gasping for air in short panting breaths. His throat ached where it had been grasped, he didn't doubt for a moment that he looked like HELL.
His hand twitched away from the glowstick as it finally tick-clatter-rolled close enough to touch his hand. He stared at it, a little pink thing, so innocent away from its 'master'... but he stared at it like a venomous snake for a moment before picking it up, and wrapping it up in the soft plastic parcel of his gift to Dem.
He had to get home, he thought numbly as he staggered to his feet, filthy, dirty, shaking.
He held the package to his chest like a shield, half sure that the glow-stick wrapped in it would burn through and explode through his torso like the alien out of the movies.
It didn't happen of course..
Home...
the word was a mantra he repeated with each shuffling step, past the police station where he -knew- he should of gone, he just wanted to be safe. -Safe-
And to prove that those eyes, were not those of his... friend. Yes, his friend, whom he owed an apology to, in the form of a shirt guaranteed to be irritating.
Home.
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