CHAPTER 2 - PREY
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins
The books my aunt had supplied me with were a thrill. Of course, I'd always had a soft spot for everything mysterious, strange, sophisticated, complicated, and last but not least, dark. I'd carefully kept them away from Dad's sight, just in case. Not that he'd bothered to ask anything about my visit. He'd simply, silently, accepted it. Fine.
Melanie had also instructed me that aside from 'theory' study, my abilities needed training as well. I had to grow more aware of them – really pay attention to how and what I felt, at all times. Listen to what sheer intuition would tell me and that I should start observing people. Stay in tune with their feelings and sneak into their minds. Needless to say I loved it.
My perceptiveness needed exercise. Since the psychology class bored me to no end, as did pretty much all classes ever since I'd devoted my attention to far more interesting subjects, I decided for a little try out. I just closed my eyes, focusing to capture my friends' vibes. It proved quite easy really, and it must have been something I'd done before, without realising. So there I went: Jal – preoccupied and concentrated; Anwar – anxious, insecure; Michelle – slightly annoyed, probably with me but I wouldn't delve in too deep; Sid – bored and sort of depressed; Chris – distracted, all over the place; Maxxie – fading.
Wait, what?
That couldn't have been right. I broke my concentration and glanced inquisitively in his direction. He sat quietly at the table, back slightly hunched, blonde fringe shadowing his eyes, scribbling something in his notebook, probably taking notes. He seemed just fine. I tried to relax and leave it, but my gut feeling persisted. Maybe there was something wrong with me, or I was plainly imagining things that weren't there, just for the sake of it. I needed to get a closer look though, keeping it as inconspicuous as possible, so I leaned over my table, closer to Sid's ear, and asked if he'd done any coursework for English. Stupid question, of course Sid hadn't. Then I got a glimpse of Maxxie's eyes – he wasn't that fine after all, even if the signs were hardly noticeable. He looked lost and absentminded, and his breath came out laboured, as if he was struggling to breathe. Well, weird… but fading was slightly different than having had a rough night, wasn't it?
By lunchtime I'd made up my mind to check the accuracy of my instincts. As soon as I filled my food tray I went and joined the table where he was sat with Anwar, Chris and Sid.
"Hey, Max" I said casually as I plopped down in front of him, next to Sid.
"Hey…"
Then it hit me, like a blow in the face – a terrible, protruding cold, filled with hopelessness and despair, one of the most horrid sensations I'd ever felt. I froze in place, my hands limp on either side of the tray, staring.
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?
"Erm… you ok, Max?" I asked, rather pointless, tearing my gaze away from him and glancing down at my food.
"Yeah… "he answered in an unconvincing manner.
"Max is on his own these days" Anwar informed, before I got the chance to say anything else. Not that I knew what else I could say. "His folks won a special trip for two – two weeks in Spain. How cool is that?"
"Yeah, man, that's so cool! I mean, we're talking fucking Spain, yeah?" Chris observed.
"Sure, lovely" I agreed, busying myself with slicing a sausage, even if my appetite was gone. "So, any wild plans in the meantime?"
"Nah, man, I'll just… just enjoy the peace and quiet…"
Anwar made a funny face and rolled his eyes.
"And the fact that I can finally get my hands on the remote control" Maxxie added with a wry smile.
"Boring"
-x-
He left college early that day and didn't show up at all for the next three days. No one had any news of him and I tried his mobile several times with no result. Crazy enough, it seemed that I was the only one (secretly) worrying. Apparently no one else even noticed his absence, let alone found it odd, except for Anwar, but he was sure that his best mate was taking advantage of his parents being away and was out wasted somewhere. Which was normal, I supposed, but worried me even more – for myself this time. Maybe I had gotten a bit carried away with my little experiment and had become slightly paranoid, but I would not have rest until I got to the bottom of it. And that meant talking to him face to face.
Finally on Saturday I decided to pay him a visit. A reasonable hour, it was maybe seven in the evening, way too early for any nocturnal social life, quite appropriate to 'just drop by'. But once in front of his door I was confronted with the same stubborn and maddening silence. I panicked. Was he really not there, purposely out of reach, or something had happened to him, as I'd feared all along, even if I'd refused to admit it even to myself? Good timing for his folks to go away, damn it! Either way, I had to know. After a quick look around, making sure no one was in sight, I dug in the depths of my pockets, took out my emergency paper clip and picked the lock.
Great, Tone! Welcome to Maxxie's stalkers club…
Both embarrassing and illegal, but then again, no one's fault that he had a shitty lock …
Outside it was a pleasant autumn evening, the air still quite warm after a sunny day, but once I stepped inside… Oh Christ! There it was again – that cold, a freezing, almost numbing cold.
"Hey, Max! You home?" I called tentatively. "It was open… Max?"
No answer. Just cold. Shit.
I advanced carefully down the narrow hallway, the sickening feeling getting worse and worse. I stopped abruptly in front of the living, noticing a pair of eyes watching me warily from under the sofa.
"Here, Taz! Come here, boy!"
Strange, he always came to greet visitors. I stooped forward with my hand outstretched, but the dog only let out a faint whimper and refused to move. What the hell?
The door of Maxxie's room was slightly ajar. I walked to it and my hand went stiff on the knob. I knew, even through that dead silence, that he was in there. I took a deep breath, slowly pushed the door open and my stomach cringed at the sight. Every bit of floor, furniture and walls was covered in the same two words, repeated obsessively and scribbled in black letters by an unsteady hand: Forgive me. Maxxie was crouched down on the floor near the wardrobe, hugging his knees, his striped hoodie wrapped tightly around his body, trembling and sobbing silently.
"What the fuck, Max?" I questioned out loud, for lack of better words.
He ignored me. I drew closer, cautious, and kneeled down in front of him. His eyes were puffy and red and his face crumpled. What the hell, had he been in here all this time crying? What could have possibly happened to him?
"Hey… It's me, Tony" I tried, as gentle as I could manage. "What's wrong?"
He sniffed but still did not look up. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry" he whispered between sobs. "P-please forgive me! Please forgive me, Sketch… I'll never do that again, ever! I swear… I'll love you, I'll do anything you want, just please… please forgive me…just… just…no more, don't hurt me, please…" Then tears choked him and he buried his face in his arms.
Sketch? What the fuck?
"Max, what the fuck happened?" I insisted. "Did she hurt you? It's okay now, I'm here, you're safe now, just talk to me, yeah?"
Little did I know that he couldn't be any less safe and neither was I.
Reality hit me the next second, as I reached and grabbed his shoulders, in an attempt to shake him out of that state. It was like an electric charge, violently coursing through my body and I was suddenly thrown backwards. Once the shock wore off, I was aware of the dull ache in my skull where it'd hit the floor. I felt nothing else. From my neck down I realised in utter horror that my body was dead. I couldn't feel it at all; I might just very well have been a severed head, somehow still alive.
"OH MY GOD!" I screamed out loud, one with the adrenaline rush. "WHAT IN BLOODY HELL? MAX, I CAN'T FUCKING MOVE! HELP ME!"
But my screams fell on deaf ears, as he showed no sign of having heard me at all. I was fucking invisible too. To say that I panicked would have been an understatement. I was horrified. Everything was fucked up beyond belief – Maxxie was obviously cracked and there I was, completely paralyzed, unable to reach for help in any sort of way.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. After a while, in which my mind frantically searched for a solution and found none, I finally noticed a reaction from Maxxie. He lifted his head and glanced at the window, visibly frightened. I looked too, but there was nothing there except… it was getting dark. I suddenly felt a pang of fear all over in my body, as while the light was fading, the hopeless, exasperating cold grew. I instinctively knew that something fouler was yet to happen and wanted nothing but to get out of there, just run, far, far away. Even though I realised that my senses were slowly coming back to me, it wasn't fast enough. I felt my limbs but still couldn't move.
Without warning, Maxxie turned, opened the wardrobe door with a shaky hand and crawled inside, closing it behind him.
"For fuck's sake, Max, don't leave me here, all alone…" I whispered, more to myself. My voice died in my throat upon the sudden discovery that in fact I wasn't alone. It was there, a foreign, menacing presence. I felt her way before I saw her, terror choking me gradually every second of it. Sketch. It was her, in the flesh, beyond doubt.
WHAT THE FUCK…?
How the fuck had she gotten in there unnoticed? Had she been there all the fucking time? I was far too shocked to speak, I had no idea what I could have said anyway and it soon became obvious that she had no business with me. She stepped over my sprawled out form without as much as a glance on her way to the wardrobe. With a blatant tut she opened the door and chuckled. From where I lay I could see her face and that grin curdled my blood. She stooped inside determined and pulled Maxxie out rather effortless. He wasn't even struggling. She pushed him down on the floor not inches from me and straddled him, pinning his wrists.
"Leave him alone, you psycho bitch!" I yelled angrily, revolted. Not that it mattered.
Sketch cast a glance around the room, thoughtful, before focusing her attention on her sobbing, shaking, mess of a prey.
"Aww… " she said shaking her head. "Are you sorry Maxxie?"
"Yes…" he barely whispered.
"How sorry are you?"
"V-very sorry… Please… I beg you"
"Hmmm… okay then" she agreed. "It will be painless tonight" Saying that she leaned and pressed her mouth over his. Seconds later his eyes closed and she pulled away, allowing his head to drop to the side.
"For all love lost blood shall be paid" Sketch recited in a sing-song voice. Then she leaned over him again, long sharp teeth sinking into Maxxie's neck, and I screamed.
As said before - Like or flame, I love both :)
