Hello! Here is my new short story, Thoughts in the Darkness!

Title: Thoughts in the Darkness

Rating: M

Summary: He had been my boyfriend, that I knew. But even now, after all those years together, I can't help but wonder if we had ever been meant to be. He was extremely dangerous, able to kill me without a second thought, but he stopped himself from doing so. And I want to know why.

Genre: Horror, Suspense, Crime, Drama

Fandom: Barry Lyga's I Hunt Killers Trilogy

Characters: Jasper "Jazz" Dent, Conscience "Connie" Hall, Others

Warnings: Gore, Slight Mental Health Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Blood and Violence, Sociopathic Tendencies, Disturbing Thoughts/Themes

Author Notes: Just a little something I put together while I figure out what I'm going to do with The Smiling Hill. Enjoy!


Jazz was furious.

Not as angry as he had been when Billy had captured her, but it was pretty close. She could all but taste the rage he was radiating right now.

Someone had done something, but he wouldn't tell her who it was or what they had done. He was fuming, pacing back and forth as he growled beneath his breath and clenched his hands into fists. He was shaking his head over and over, his teeth bared and eyes burning a dangerous amber.

Connie realized the sheer power that he had while watching the man's movements. He was tall and lithe, lightly muscled but possessing a deceptive strength that made him seem like he was built like a tree.

She frowned and reached out a hand. "Jazz..."

He fixed his gaze on her, molten orange eyes bright. "Not now, Connie. I can't—"

"Just tell me what's wrong. You're not usually this irritated with anything except Howie." She kept her gaze steady even as the taller being's eyes darkened to a shade that was slightly close to his normal hazel.

Jazz groaned, running a hand through his thick and dark hair. It was unusually long, and it almost completely obscured his eyes and nose. She would have to convince him to cut it soon.

"Nothing happened, Connie. I just need time to think."

She growled internally, crossing her arms. "You know you can talk to me. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I don't—" He growled again and shuddered, his eyes dangerously bright. "Connie, I've not been...here lately. It's nothing bad. I just...haven't been thinking clearly."

"Jazz, you haven't been thinking clearly for a very long time." Connie placed a hand on his arm, her warmer skin a fire against his icy exterior. "I can't even begin to imagine what it's like in your head, but you can't let it harm you anymore. Billy and your mom are out of the picture. This is the first time we've met together in person in months, and your attitude is spoiling it."

He tensed up even more, muscles rippling and eyes dangerously slits. "Connie, I—" He grimaced and brought a hand to his side, a faint flicker of pain flashing across his face.

"You're hurt." She frowned and approached the larger being, concern written over her face. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It's nothing. Some stab wounds are acting up again." It still unnerved her how cold and detached his voice was, even if he was in a considerable amount of pain. She could only imagine what he had sounded like when he was stabbed repeatedly by his own mother—and she knew that even though he had lost a ton of blood, he had somehow mustered the strength to put her in a choke hold and strangle her hard enough to make her brain dead afterwards despite the fact that he was bleeding out all over the floor.

"If that's what was making you cranky, why didn't you tell me?" She crossed her arms and cocked a hip, pursing her lips into a thin straight line.

He had the nerve to grin sheepishly, amber eyes crinkling around the corners. "I didn't want to worry you."

"I worry about you anyways, Jazz." Connie noticed his grimace even as he laughed. "Are they new or old? The wounds?"

"Three new, two old." The tall man stretched slowly, tendons snapping back into place as he groaned in satisfaction. "Helping LNPD catch a rapist who crossed state lines into our jurisdiction. Thought he could take me out with a pocket knife."

"LNPD?" She grinned as she moved her hair out of her face. "Does Lobo's Nod even have enough police to consider it a full force?"

Jazz shrugged, fingers still clamped tightly over his side. "Probably not. It does make it sound more formal, though, when the big guns come in."

"Have you warmed up to them yet? They're all pretty anxious around you," she murmured, trailing a hand over his free arm and feeling the rise and fall of his muscles with his breathing.

"The last time I was with federal agents for an extended period of time was during the Hat-Dog and Crow fallout." He narrowed his eyes at the mention of the three killers, and she felt him tense slightly. "We all know how that had turned out."

"It's the past, though. You should probably get over it sooner than later." Connie tightened her grasp in a faint warning as she stared up at the man.

"I know. But I hold grudges for a very long time." Jazz finally took his hand off his injured side, and she internally cringed as she noticed the blood staining his fingers. The man noticed and scowled, a sudden action that distorted his hauntingly beautiful features as he cursed under his breath.

"What actually happened?" Connie demanded, giving her best impression of the infamous Dent stare.

Jazz's lips twitched faintly as he noticed her attempt but did not comment on it. "Nothing but some idiots in an alley when I was in Chicago a few weeks ago. A gang of some kind who thought they could kill me. I managed to disarm them, but one pulled a knife and this happened. It's by far not the worse injury I've sustained."

"But have you done anything about it? It could get infected, and it's probably worse than you think if it's bleeding like that." Connie took his hands away from the wound, staring worriedly at his bloodied skin

"Trust me, I know how infected wounds feel. I'm fine." Jazz let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm exhausted and I think I'm going to pass out soon if I don't get to a bed." He turned and loped off towards his car, a sleek and suave Cadillac that he afforded only through the funds provided for his assistance in numerous cases.

"Don't wait up. I'll be out for a while. Meet you at the café in an hour?" The man turned and gave her an expectant stare.

Connie nodded, frowning slightly before forcing herself to smile. "Yeah, that's fine. See you later."


Let me know what you think and review, please!