(Animal I have become by Three Days Grace)
I can't escape this hell
So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Lights flashed, just barely lighting the dark room filled wall to wall with moving, writhing bodies. Those were not part of the erratic dance were watching those who were with desperate want. One who danced stood out in particular: the one every other person knew walked through his day with a smile and laughter, good words of encouragement. Now, he wasn't encouraging anyone to rise out of their depression, he was moving with it.
Eyes they knew were naturally ebony were loosely shut as he moved with the beat, not erratic and violent, but knowing and perfectly timed, as if he had danced to this song a hundred times. Raven-wing locks swayed with the back and forth movement of his head, arms high above his head as his body moved, captivating to the watchers. This song was violent, it was meant to be violent; but he wasn't violent.
So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one would ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
(This animal, this animal)
A white, collared button-up shirt hid his chest, unlike others around him, bare from the neck to their waists except for chains and piercing. He was something pure that had walked into hell, the only one aware of the fact that he was damned. Even those who watched them with open want could not see why he came here. This dark, disgusting place meant for those who did not want to be part of the outside world.
Some of these people who stared so long and often at him knew that there was something that continued to drag this man back here every other night. He came here like clockwork, and like clockwork came his admirers. In daylight sun, his beauty was hidden behind fake joy and green spandex. Now, with the sun bowing beneath the moon and yards beneath the surface of the earth, black cargo pants and a dress shirt covered what they wanted to so eagerly devour. A silver chain around his neck glinted in another round of flashing lights, illuminating the small pendent of an undecorated cross.
I can't escape myself
(I can't escape myself)
So many times I've lied
(So many times I've lied)
But there's still rage inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
His head and hips swung in unison, his eyes opening to half-mast, showing dazed obsidian orbs. His face was, interestingly, blank of all emotion, so unlike those that related to the song with rage and excitement as if they understood. With this fallen angel in their midst, it was clear they understood nothing. The harsh tempo of the song and the ease in which he met it's challenge made all those around him look like idiots.
None of them approached him; how could they? They only knew how to match the rhythm of the insanity raining down around the man, not how to match him. It was why they did not danced and watched instead. He was the forbidden fruit: sweet, addicting, and untouchable. Breathing hotly, they could only hope that they could gain the confidence to reach out and touch him, take him and devour him, damn the consequences. But that confidence never rose up with them, leaving him safely out of reach.
As more bodies tumbled in through the entrance, it just became more difficult to move, more difficult to see through the pressing crowd to their desire, who remained distant from everyone. Where everyone else were rubbing shoulders, getting pissy with their lack of space and venting out their supposed rage, it was as if he were not even there, no one touching him and him not touching anyone. He was the darkest creature here, all because he had no shadow anyone could find. There were those who danced around him, attempting to capture his attention, his dance; mockery and amusement rose from those admiring him at their attempts. He was absolutely alone in a crowd wanting all of him.
So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one would ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
Jealousy and hatred burned within them as their obsession was joined by another. The pale man approached their fallen angel from behind, hands grasping at slim hips and pulling back towards himself; teal eyes narrow in heat and understanding. Wearily, they waited for him to realize he could never be enough for their forbidden fruit; that he could never devour his sweet essence. That man was not one of them; he was unfamiliar in this club, even if they all knew exactly who he was. Their terror was no equal to their fury, they wanted their fallen angel open for their eyes again.
The redhead ran his tongue from the ebony-like boy's shoulder to the bottom of his jawbone. He moved their hips together with such filthy grinding, they felt the urge to run in and save the only innocent thing to be found in this hell. Breath stopped and hearts broke when their beautiful beast turned his head, reaching for what they hoped most against: him. him and his lips. Stinging envy nearly dropped them to the dirt-covered floors when their mouths became pressed together and when their ebony creature wrapped his own hands around the intruding palms, pressing them closer together as their rhythm became more in tuned to the violent manner of animals. Those who had tried so long to copy his essence into themselves moved away, blending instantly into the overwhelming crowd, becoming unnoticeable. They did not want to watch their heart break, a smart move that those envious could not seem to follow. They watched as their desire turned around, no longer facing where they had strategically placed themselves. Fire burned at their throats as two hands circled around and gripped the ass they had wet dreams about. It's hands groped and pulled, their desire placed both hands on the pale man's shoulders and threw his head back as if he were experiencing great pleasure. Those hands they wished on their own bodies became wrapped around that demon's shoulders and he tucked his head under it's chin. They refused to admit that it was human. Only a true demon would dare lay a hand on such a pure being.
Somebody help me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Somebody wake me from this nightmare
I can't escape this animal
Their hips moved in sync, pushing them together and hands wandering under clothes in a room full of people who watch but never remember. A forceful thrust against their fallen angel almost caused them to break from their new perch; having moved to continue to watch his face from a center point. He threw his head back and they could all hear his gasp in their minds. Teal eyes watched the reaction with such concentration, they felt intimidated. All the attention they had lavished upon their fallen angel had became nothing in one moment, unable to win when such fierce eyes focused upon their obsession.
It's hands had long since drifted under the snow-white dress shirt hiding the slim body from their eyes. They knew the exact moment they circled buds that they could only dream of seeing; they knew it because of how eyes as dark as the deepest part of the sea dilated and how he shoved his upper body forward like a willing offering. They watched with hate and love as he held onto it for what seemed like dear life.
(This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal)
So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
(This animal I have become)
Screams and cries broke from those who had believed themselves different as what appeared to be sand rose from the ground and blocked their obsession and his possessor from their view; the moment it took for them to arrive at their spot to stop the demon from stealing their fallen angel was a moment to late. They were both gone, and they could only give each other cold looks and hope that he returned. Purity was needed in filth.