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 Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 12:05 pm
Distraction
"Oh I'm a student, up at the uni." she was all smiles.
"Where'd your mates go?" he asked amicably.
"They went to go to someone's house up in newlands." she said conversationally. "It's no my scene, I was just going to finish up here and then maybe head back home again, don't like hanging around on my own out here."
With a friendly grin, he said. "You should stick about and chat a while, my friends all ******** off too, bunch of bastards." They commiserated about their friends, Rep embellishing a little and along the way finding out she was a third year from Fife who was staying here during her course. She was studying history of art and he made the usual jokes about too many dates and too many things to remember. She felt trusting and was more than a little bit ******** drunk. He was buzzing and he thought she was the best person he'd met that night.
"I'm just visiting from Glesga." he said too. "I'm doing studies too." It was a lie, but it didn't matter. She asked what he studied and he shrugged his shoulders and gave himself whatever ******** life he wished he'd led. He stopped being Rep the murderous loser from Deus and became William, who was doing further postgraduate study in Computer Science at university. She didn't have a problem with his appearance knowing he was a student. He even went on to enthuse about the gym and learn what gym she went to on her time off.
Keeping her on the hook was easy, he even pretended to be interested in equality for women when she had a little shpeil about how women had been represented in art. He said yeah it was shitty they were always the object of the male gaze (and didn't ******** know or care what that meant. She had nice tits too, albeit a bit on the small side)
They danced and he led her on, his ego soothed by the idea he could get anyone to ******** think he was ok, to hold anyone's ******** attention who didn't know him. She didn't question his bathroom breaks either, telling her he always pissed like a racehorse after a few drinks. The DJ wasn't half ******** bad and a lot of the songs he'd never even ******** heard. He was living it. He was normal, he was human and to everyone there he looked as ******** normal and hetero as they came, landing a wee university piece while he was at it. It was like he'd never left. The world ******** turned but he stayed the same and it still had room for him, room for him, a spot he'd left but which waited for him to slip back into.
Like driving, you never really forgot how to be a massive p***k.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 12:37 pm
Disaster
He'd gotten in the taxi with her because the club was shut and it had felt like habit, like common sense. She'd invited her back to her place and there had been no filters, no sense to say that maybe he shouldn't do it. Tracey was curious and didn't think anything of the situation, keen to see what human homes were like and to hear further conversation about the way things went in the world off island.
Rep knew better but that didn't stop him, he had enough fuel to see him through the night and then some and at that point in time that was all that seemed to matter.
He was so ******** drunk and off somewhere else, at first he didn't notice she was in his lap and his body was into it. It was only when she leaned in to kiss him and let her hand dip to touch him through his denims that he flinched.
"Don't ******** touch me." he snarled.
There was a crash as she stumbled back onto the coffee table, thrown off of him, her expression dazed and uncomprehending. He was on his feet in a ********. ******** ******** ******** are you all right?" he slurred, but she was crying. Where he'd seized her shoulders to push her off she had nasty looking bruised welts. He pulled back his hands as if he'd hurt her again just by helping her stand. "I'm sorry." he stammered. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I can't. I can't."
He ran for the door and shoved it open. It had been locked and ******** gave way in his hands like the flimsy wood and steel it was. He ran out of the close and into the night, leaping up onto the roofs as hurriedly as he could, needing to be off the street, needing to melt back into the dark, retreating from the idea he could have been human for five minutes, that he could ******** live like them as part of their ******** world without ******** it up.
There weren't any sirens as he took his careful path back to the hotel, going the long way, across old roofs and disused and overgrown railway bridges clustered with trees. He didn't need light to see, the dagger saw to that, and he was unafraid of anything he might encounter up there. He passed some guy getting head from a b***h in a tiny skirt and neither of them spotted him. He was all but invisible when he kept clear of the weak yellowy pools of street light, his heart still hammering, all of his skin crawling from the contact he'd allowed to happen, the touch that still made him shudder in revulsion.
He stopped to throw up where the bushes gave way to rusted steel that petered out near the river, the river itself a sparkling, neon trail of reflected decorative lighting and street lights, like an artery of brightness twisting through the very core of the landscape. He spat. s**t had no right being beautiful when ugly things ******** thrived on it, when it soothed some twisted part of the creature that thrashed inside him and tried to gnaw itself to death.
This was the red light district and he wanted to look at something less ******** pretty. He hopped down from the walls and returned to street level, tossing back the speed since there was nowhere to snort anything nearby. He felt better, his heart picking before long as if he had a charge. He wasn't afraid, he had purpose, he had direction, he was great, he was ******** powerful.
He could do whatever the ******** he wanted and he knew what he wanted to do.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 1:06 pm
Desideratum
He'd gone back to get the car first, because it seemed like a ******** good idea, and driving carefully to suppress his ******** drunken buzz - had come back to the one specific street he knew rather well. He'd mostly cruised in Glasgow, but he knew the different places around the country to pick up whatever he wanted.
There were a few women there and one approached the car. He gave an affirmative nod and opened the door.
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 1:14 pm
Detritus
"What do you want?" she asked him. She wasn't pretty but she probably had been once, hollowed out by years of whatever had brought her to the point where she'd get in a car with someone like Rep without a clue of who she was dealing with.
"Your ******** time." he said. "And I'll pay you for it."
She made an irritable face but forced herself to smile instead when he brought up the issue of money.
"I don't want sex."
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Posted: Tue May 26, 2015 1:55 pm
Defeat
She left with a sizeable chunk of his money and an equally sizeable portion of his dignity, but he'd never see her again. She was gone from his life as surely as if he'd killed her - and oh the temptation to do it had been there the whole time, the tangle of revulsion and loathing almost overwhelming him. For a while she was simultaneously the most hated and loved thing in his world and he had swung back and forth on it so viciously that the mortal danger had been more real than she realised.
With her gone, he had nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. He went out one last time for a carry out of booze and bringing it back, turned on the TV and settled down to throw himself completely and utterly out of coherence.
He had tried to be normal, but he couldn't fit back into that gap that called to him, that spot in the world that longed to devour him and erase who he was completely. Deus was the chain that bound him and love was the chain that pulled him onwards. He did it for this place, for the world he wasn't ******** part of any longer, the old woman at the bus stop, the ******** bigot at the bar, the student with her bruises. There was a whole world out there that didn't hate him because they didn't know him, and the saddest thing, the thing that ******** ripped his heart out of his chest whenever he thought about it was that they would never know him. He was apart from that world, only half human, only able to wear a human skin once maybe twice a month and never long enough to escape the institutionalised habits of the island. He was dangerous to anything and anyone he touched, trapped with the hunters and the people like him, people with whom he'd burned all his bridges already and who saw him either as a dangerous liability which needed to be killed and written off or as some wild and dangerous untrustworthy creature that was someone else's problem.
But he'd fight on, he'd always always fight on, because it was the path of least resistance, he had to believe that he was as worthy of the life he possessed as anyone else and that there were good things that came from the ripples he caused, just somewhere far out of reach. The zombie missions might have been nothing but busy work to Dwight, but for him it was a long list of decisions which meant absolutely everything to those who his actions spared. And that alone was reason to keep going. People might have ******** said what was the point in giving that woman on the estate some extra money for Christmas, that it wouldn't make any difference in the grand scheme in the long run. But it'd mean everything to the little boy. Everything was cause and effect, everything was action and reaction and no one person could see it all. He'd been given the task in life of being the s**t point that made other people feel better, no matter how far you fell you weren't the guy who'd spent the last few hours in tears over things he could never ******** solve. You weren't that. You were better.
He could handle that. He just... he just needed to feel more.. for tonight. Just another few rungs, another few lines to climb that ******** ladder out of the pit he was in.
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