I'm sitting on the edge of the roof, looking down on the street far below. The cold wind is ruffling my hair and the snow that is slowly falling comes to rest on my shoulders. My fingers are stiff. I can hardly feel them. But at the same time, they hurt so bad that I can hardly stand it. I don't care. In my opinion, I deserve the pain. I welcome the pain. It tells me that I am not dead yet.
That's why I am here.
For the cold.
For the pain.
For death.
My death.
My breath comes out as smoke every time I let it out. For some reason it makes me crave for a cigarette. I don't smoke. I just want a cigarette.
I look up at the dark night sky and watch the snowflakes fall from what looks like pitch black nothing. I can see no clouds. I can see no stars. All I see is that pitch black nothing and the snowflakes that are lit up by the lights of the city.
From somewhere nearby I can hear gunfire, followed by a painful scream. Another life is ending tonight. I know I should care. It's my job to care of such things. But my heart is like ice. No help will come from me. I leave that to someone else.
I take out my knife and run my finger over the blade. I feel the sharp edge against my skin. It tickles. How easy wouldn't it be to just let it slip over my wrists, let it slice my skin and let the blood come forth. It will be a slow death, but not painful enough. I want to feel pain when I die. I have already made up my mind about that. I have to suffer. I need to suffer. The others don't understand that. When they find out about what I have done, they'll hate me. And hewill hate me the most. He will see me as a coward. A coward is worth nothing in his eyes. That's how I want it. I don't want them to remember me at all. I don't deserve that. I deserve to be forgotten.
Maybe I can jump. Just lean forward until I fall. But no. That kind of death would be too swift for my liking. My fall will end by me hitting the ground. I will die immediately. Jumping is not an option.
I regret that I left my gun inside. I could have used it somehow. Maybe shoot myself where the shots will cause damage – and pain – but are only lethal when left unattended, or not lethal at all. Like the knees. A shot in my knees wouldn't kill me. It would just bring me pain. And I wouldn't be able to walk again. But I would never need to walk again, now would I?
I change my grip on the knife so that the tip is pointing down. I press it to the back of my hand and make a slow cut. I don't wince. I don't make a sound All I want is to drop the knife, but I force myself to continue until his name is carved into my skin. The blood that now covers my hand feels warm. But only for a second.
The sharp pain is slowly fading away. I play with the thought of keep carving until my entire body is covered with cuts. That would hurt. But that means I have to remove my clothes, and then my body would go numb eventually, either from the cold or from the lost of blood. I would go weak long before I took my last breath. I want to feel pain to the end.
I sheath my knife again and then I feel the lighter in my pocket. I pull it out and weigh it in my hand.It's made of metal, so it's heavy. I brush my thumb over the surface and feel the engraved words.
Don't look back
It makes me smile for some reason. I remember when he gave it to me. He gave a lighter to all of us, even though none of us smoke. He said that it was good to have a lighter, because you may need one someday when you least expect it. Mine was the only one with an engraving. And that is exactly what I'll do. I won't look back.
With a flick of my wrist, the lid opens. I light it and watch the flame dance in the wind. I put my finger into it and clench my jaw as it burns my skin. I pull my finger out again and start to laugh.
Fire.
Fire will make it hurt to the end. I put my hand over the flame and smile as it licks me. The smell of burning flesh fills my nose. It hurts like hell!
I wonder if my jacket will burn easily, but it would be better if it didn't. It will make my death very drawn out. I want that.
I hear the door to the roof open and close. I hear crunching footsteps approaching me. I curse under my breath and close the lighter. By the sound of the footsteps I know it's him. What is he doing up here? How could he possibly know?
"DiNozzo!"
I smile when I hear the tone in his voice. He's angry. It turns me on. It has always turned me on. Sometimes it surprises me that he hasn't noticed that yet. But then again, I have always been good at hiding things.
"You better get down again, Boss", I tell him. "This doesn't concern you."
Silent hits me like a hammer. Then I feel the hard slap to the back of my head. I gasp, both with arousal and shock. He has never hit me that hard before.
"Stand up!" he tells me with a low growl. I smile again but do as he says. I slowly turn around and look him right in the eyes, my emotions on full display. I can see the shock in his eyes and he takes a step back. Then he narrow his eyes and steps into my personal space. He is so close that I can smell the coffee on his breath. His eyes are on fire. Those amazingly blue eyes that reminds me of ice.
"What the hell do you think you are doing, DiNozzo?" he asks me.
"Something I should've done years ago", I reply, steadily returning his fierce gaze. I let him know that he can't scare me any more. I have actually never been afraid of him, but it has amused me many times to make him think so. And it never cost me anything.
"So you are ending your life?" he asks and I can hear the confusion in his voice. "Just like that?"
"Oh no", I say with a smile. "Not just like that, Boss. I will make it slow. Very slow."
His eyes get wide and he steps back again. I lift the lighter, flick it open and light it once more. I smile at him as I put my hand over the flame, letting it play with my fingers.
"Fire is a beautiful creature", I say. "Don't you think so, Boss? It can never be tamed. And still, you can make it do whatever you want."
I can see the moment the smell of burnt flesh reaches him. He tries to strike out and take the lighter from me, but I am too fast for him and avoid him easily. The look of miscalculation he gives me is almost comical. It makes me chuckle.
"You are mad", he states and I can hear that he is disgusted with me.
"Mad?" I ask him and close the lighter again. "Yes, maybe I am. But who isn't? Is there really one person in this world who is completely sane?"
"A sane person wouldn't end his life for no reason at all."
"Oh, you think I have no reason to do this? I want to feel pain, Boss. I need pain. Sweet, outdrawn pain. I want to scream to the end."
"But why, Tony? Do you wanna go to Hell? Is that what this is all about?"
I chuckle again. "Hell? No, Boss. I don't believe in Heaven or Hell. I never have."
I walk up to him and lock eyes with him, lean closer until no more than an inch between our faces.
"I want someone to claim me, Boss", I whisper. "I want someone who has the guts to give me what I need. I haven't found that person yet. I will never find that person. That is something I can't live with."
I smile when he he realize the meaning of what I just said. Then his eyes narrows again and the next moment I can feel his hand clench my balls. Hard. The sudden pain makes me grit my teeth, but I hold my ground and force myself not to make a sound.
"You want a Keeper, DiNozzo?" he growls into my ear. I didn't expect this. The low tone makes me hard. I know he feels it when he squeezes even tighter.
"Yes, Boss", I reply huskily with a groan. Obediently.
"Good boy."
I shiver, and it is not from the cold. I stare at him in surprise. I never thought of him as this kind of Keeper. A keeper, yes, but not the kind I need so badly.
He release my balls and stare me down. I know what is expected of me so I straighten my back and look away, waiting for him to tell me what to do. I feel him walk around me. Feel him put a hand on my ass and squeeze. I grit my teeth and have to force myself not to move. I know now that he has the guts to give me what I want. He wont chicken out on me as so many has before. I can hardly wait.
He stops in front of me and pull out something from his pocket. Something thin that shimmers like metal. The next second I cringe when the small chain touch the skin of my neck. A silent iclick/i reaches my ears as the ends are locked together. It's short. A millimeter shorter and the chain would've choked me.
My breathing is fast now. And so is his. This arouses him just as much as it arouses me. He knows I will do whatever he tells me to do. Always. You don't disobey your Keeper.
"Are you sure you want this, DiNozzo?" he asks me then.
I frown. He should have asked that before he clasped the chain around my neck. There is no turning back now. And that's what I tell him.
"Good boy", purrs with a smile. "You will love what I have in mind for you. Won't you, boy?"
"Yes, Boss."
"Good. Now heel."
He turns his back against me and walks away, not looking if I follow him or not. He doesn't have to. I walk by his heels as the obedient pet I am. I feel my world settle around me. I still crave to die, but now by my own hands. Not anymore. He knows it and that amuses him.
He is my master now.
He will never let me go.