Oh my love
He gazed at her. Her soft skin looked as delicate as porcelain, and her tall but petite figure stood in the doorway. Gleaming red hair hung about her thin frame, the lights above her giving her the look of an angel as a halo glowed around her head. Her vivid green eyes shone as she gazed back at him.
In other words, she was beautiful…
Please don't cry
But pearly tears streamed down her cheeks. He came closer, to comfort her, and cease her violent shaking sobs, but she turned away. He softly murmured her name, and she studied his solemn face. Again she averted his eyes, and stared at the hard ground.
I'll wash my bloody hands
He also averted his penetrating gaze, and stare at his hands. Dried, crimson bloodstains stared back. He sighed; for all the fight was gone from him. Was there any hope for them, a him and her?
And we'll start a new life
'Yes' He thought in answer. There was hope. He dreamed of him with her, her laughing while she held his hand.
I ripped out
His throat
He grimaced as he remembered how exactly he had killed the competition.
He glared at the fallen corpse; something was not satisfying him. His enemy's throat displayed its vulnerability to him, and he picked up the mangled body. Plunging his fingers into the body's gullet, he ripped out the Adam's Apple. He gave a maniacal, lopsided grin as he once again scrutinized the bleeding corpse. He was satisfied.
And called you on the telephone
Lurking in the shadows, he felt finished. Finished with his work, his duty as it seemed to him. He pulled out a circular yellow communicator. He called her name determinedly into the speaker.
To take off
My disguise
"I-" he began to say, but she interrupted him, telling him that someone sent out an SOS from their communicator. "We fear the worst." She somberly told him. His eyes widened when he heard whose communicator the SOS came from. 'How had he had the time to send it?' He wondered to himself. "He's dead." He stated plainly, watching her beautiful face for her reaction.
Just in time to hear you cry
Shimmering tears coursed from her deep emerald eyes at his statement. "How?" she quavered.
When you mourn the death
"I killed him." He said icily. His cold gaze struck deep into her heart. "But…" she struggled to speak, her own disbelief and shock choking her. "…why?"
Of your bloody valentine
He turned away from her pitiful face, glancing at the mutilated body. There was only silence, save for the dripping rain that splashed against the concrete.
The night he died
You mourn the death
Of your bloody valentine
One last time
There was a small funeral, not an open casket, but a funeral nonetheless. She had arrived, a black gown replacing her usual meager purple garments. Before the casket was lowered into the muddy ground, she whispered a few private words to the body, and the soul that departed from it.
Singing
He remembered her singing, truly singing, instead of her…unique…folk songs. It was the loveliest thing he had ever heard in his whole life, just that simple bell-like voice resounding in his ears. When he needed strength, he would find that one memory. It gave him hope. Even now, when her feelings were in such a jumble that neither knew what she felt.
Oh my love
Please don't cry
He reached out to comfort her again, and this time she accepted. His strong arms wrapped around her slender body, and she wept on his chest. He soothed her convulsing self, reassuring her that it was OK, rubbing her back in a circular manner to calm her.
I'll wash my bloody hands
And we'll start anew life
His fingers had blood trickling into the sparse grass that sprouted randomly in the cracks of the pavement. Crimson stained the browning grass and the slick black concrete. The cleansing rain wiped the drops away, erasing the scarlet lifeblood that had fallen. He looked up to the heavens, welcoming the rain that blotted out his deed.
I don't know
Much at all
He reminisced about a time before this. "And what will we do, then? Huh? You tell me; we all want to know!" A voice shouted angrily at him. He said nothing for a long pause. "I don't know. But at least we can try." He finally said in an unnaturally low and husky voice. "We will try."
I don't know wrong from right
'Does one good deed make you a hero? Does one bad deed make you a villain?' He thought about Red X. The villain- no, the person, affected him more than anybody had thought. What was Red X? Villain or hero? Or, more importantly, what was he?
All I know
Is that I love you tonight
Out of all the questions he had, out of all the uncertain-or nonexistent- answers he had, he knew one thing for sure. He loved her more than anything, more than Earth, or life itself. He loved her so badly that he killed. And he would do it again, unless he promised her; he always kept a promise-especially one to her.
There was holy sin
And flashing lights
He covered his eyes as the headlights from the T-car and the police blinded him. Recognizing the glaring lights, he ducked into the shadows, blending in with the darkness.
The rain came down so hard that night
As sirens blared deafeningly, he listened to the harsh sound of the wet rain pounding on rooftops and the black concrete. He savored the rain, the drumming sounds of its drops beating in his ears.
The headlines read
A lover died
He thought of the previous day. A newspaper had been slapped in front of his slumping figure, an article in particular catching his attention almost immediately. In huge bold print a headline had the words "A Lover Died." A picture of the bloody corpse was right beside the headline, a gruesome sight for all.
No tell-tale heart was left to find
Silently in the shadows, he watched the cops as they fruitlessly tried in vain to bring the body back to life. But it was official: the heart had stopped beating and CPR would not work. The boy was gone. Dead. Murdered in cold, jealous blood.
When you mourn the death
Of your bloody valentine
The night he died
You mourn the death
Of your bloody valentine
One last time
After the funeral, she had had the casket to herself; she was alone in the room except for her valentine. Making sure no one was coming in; she had opened the box, taking in her lover's barely recognizable scarred body. She gasped, the sound swelling in the empty room, and shut out the sight of the deformed body. 'How could he have done this?' she silently had wept, tears again falling from her puffy red eyes.
Singing
He tried to remember her singing again, trying to find insight, and consolement, and hope from his grieving companion. But he could not remember, for it was a long time ago it seemed, and a distant memory with happiness.
Oh my love
Please don't cry
I'll wash my bloody hands
And we'll start a new life
He tried to then think of a happy life they could have together. One where she wasn't crying; for she was smiling, and laughing, and holding their kids in an affectionate way. He would be happy, too, and would kiss her and the kids in a passionate yet tender way. Every morning when they went to work and school, they all would say "I love you" to each other and really mean it. That was the life he wanted, the happiness that he needed.
I don't know
Much at all
I don't know wrong from right
All I know
Is that I love you tonight
He surveyed his wicked work. The police had left with the body, but blood not swept away by the thrumming rain swirled around in the puddles. It dyed the water bright red as it slid into more puddles. It was spattered everywhere.
Tonight
He loved her for the longest of time, never getting the courage to admit it to her. He was sure he'd love her in the future, and would not regret his decision as much as he would have if the killing wasn't for her. But more importantly than any time in the past or that will be in the future, he loved her tonight.
He dropped you off
She giggled as the future angel presented her into her home with a grand flourish. She curtsied back after she walked through the door, giggling even more. The boy cupped her cheek in his hand, and smiled pleasantly in a way that reached his eyes. She gazed into his deep orbs called eyes, and they entered a sweet, gentle liplock. He pulled away with a I'll-see-you-later-look. He backed out the door, and looked back, smiling at her.
I followed him home
Then I stood outside his bedroom window
Rain dripped from his face as he stopped at a large home that could barely be considered a house. It was a secluded area, and so he set off towards what he thought was the boy's bedroom. Searching for handholds was easier than he had anticipated, and then he hoisted himself through the window to meet a fairly large room. He smiled sickeningly. This was definitely his room. The tall door suddenly swung forward to reveal the target. The boy moved forward, unfazed by his supposed friend's sudden appearance in his room. That is, until he saw the deranged smirk and the silver blade clutched in his hands.
Standing over him he begged me not to do
Which I knew I had to do
Fearfully the boy backed up, but he was on his target in an instant. Screams were heard as the boy's sides and face were pierced with a now crimson knife. "Please…" the boy faltered in pain. The boy fell out of the first story window as he leaned against the unexpectedly (to him) open window for support. He leapt after the boy, his smirk growing wider. Landing on his feet, he loomed over the bleeding boy. "Please…" the boy pleaded again.
'Cause I'm so in love with you
For a moment he hesitated. Was this really right? Then the picture of his beautiful love flitted into his mind. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the boy's pleas and plunged the dagger into the slowing heart. Red liquid gushed forth from the wound, and slowly but surely, the boy stopped breathing, his stabbed heart grinding to a halt. The boy shuddered, and fell limp.
Oh my love
Please don't cry
I'll wash my bloody hands
And we'll start a new life
"It's okay; everything is okay…." He assured the trembling girl. He smelled her sweet flowery scent and inhaled a lungful. "Is it really?" the question surprised him. She had not said a single word to him, not after asking him why he did his terrible act. This time, he chose to answer, and gave a soft "Yes."
I don't know
Much at all
I don't know wrong from right
All I know
Is that I love you tonight
Tonight
Tonight!
So what do you think? I don't really like it that much, but I would like your opinions. No flames, please, though, I have low enough self esteem already so I really don't need anyone calling my writing a crappy piece if shit or calling me a fucktard.
Oh yeah, I forgot to put a disclaimer on this and the rest of my stories, so here:
Raeboy does not own Teen Titans, Code Lyoko, Good Charlotte, or My Bloody Valentine, which is by Good Charlotte.
Just asking, but can anyone beta me? I don't have a beta-reader and I'd like one. Message me please if you will.