First Blood
"Oh," the girl lets out a relieved breath when she hears my voice. "I thought... I thought you were a monster." Even in the dark, her eyes are ridiculously green, that's what I first notice about her.
"A monster?" I grin, climbing over the windowsill to her.
"I know. Ridiculous. I mean... You have such a nice voice," she shifts up against her pillow, her voice now radiating off curiosity instead of fear.
I give her a little laugh, stepping carefully over to her bed after taking my jacket off. "Mind if I join you?" I whisper, my hand already pressed against the spot beside her, and other hand in my pocket, playing with the cold blade.
"Um, of course not," her voice wavers, though, uncomfortably.
"What's wrong?" I ask slipping under the cover beside her.
"It's just... I never had a stranger being so... Friendly with me. Or anyone, in fact."
"Really, Clary," I say in a hushed voice. "That's not nice." She doesn't even ask how I know her name. She just stays still, partly confused, as I shift our position slightly so that I'm on top of her. My back is arched so we're barely touching, but with my breath hot against her bare neck and my fingers playing with the edge of her soft pj pants, I know it's enough to drive other girls crazy.
But not this one, though.
"What are you doing?" She asks, startled a bit by my closeness.
"I'm trying to be nice," I speak in a low voice, wishing to feel her fear again. "After all, you deserve it."
"Do I?" Then she bites her lower lip, pausing. "No. Mommy said I'm troubled. And I make her upset and sad. It's my fault she drinks bad things. I'm a bad girl."
"You're a bad girl, sweetie?" I hum in the back of my throat, burying my mouth against the base of her neck. My mouth moves against her soft skin-both warm and cool at the same time.
When I feel her bare skin exposed between her top and her pants, I can feel some sort of a resemblance between us. Her eyes twinkle in the dark as if to spell out 'I feel it too' but of course, it must be my imagination.
Then she gasps, seeming to have remembered something. "Oops." I feel my brain snap at her disinterest in the situation. "And mommy told me not to let boys touch my- oh!" She inhales sharply as I press my hardness down on her. At fucking last. Finally having gotten a reaction I want, I grin in satisfaction. "What... Was that?"
She finally seems to be uncomfortable with me pressed close to her own body. She twists underneath me uncertainly, causing friction on my hard-on which makes me almost moan. I go limp on her body, every inch of my skin touching hers.
"Sweetie, do you trust your mommy?" I ask instead, lifting my head up to see her small face. Her head is framed with her fiery hair spread on the pillow, and she seems to be confused and dizzy.
"Of course I do," she giggles as if that's the most obvious question ever. "Don't you?" She then asks, frowning.
I don't answer her, fumbling with the blade tight in my hand-too tight, letting my own blood slide down from my palm across my wrist. This is taking much longer than usual, and I don't mind at all.
"I'll tell you later," I finally say slowly. "But meanwhile... I need you to do something for me."
I stop playing with her clothes. If this girl is not interested in fucking, then there's always other ways. A bead of sweat runs down my forehead as I tilt my head slightly to show amusement.
"Anything. As... Um..." She pauses for a moment. "As a friend."
"A friend?" I raise on eyebrow, smirking down at her.
"I mean... If you don't want to be, we don't need to... I'm just saying, if you want to be friends with me, not that you'd want to, because nobody wants to, but-"
"Stop, sweetie," because I just got the most brilliant idea in my insane history. "Of course I want to be friends with you."
In the dark, I can barely see her smiling shyly as I put on my best sickly sweet smile. I put my blade back away. Waiting is definitely not my favorite thing, but when you can tear your prey's body apart and eat its heart out if you just wait, then you can't just be satisfied with the meat it gives you.
Sacrifice.
For the greater good.
"Oh," she says, blinking. "So what was it that you wanted me to do?"
"Nothing," I breathe. "Nothing at all." I brush her loose hair behind her ears, then leap off from the bed. "But you should probably go back to sleep."
"You're going?" The girl asks, panicking. "But I thought you were going to stay." Her eyebrows scrunches in disappointment.
"I promise to come back tomorrow afternoon. Now get some sleep."
"But sleeping is boring. Sometimes, it's so boring, I think I might actually die in my sleep."
"It might actually be a good way to go," I speak softly without really thinking.
"Oh, but I always wanted to die in blood."
She says it in such an innocent voice, I look down at her for a moment. I imagine her covered in blood, shivering and whimpering in fear but moaning out pleasure and begging me to keep going. Shuddering in yearning, I lean down to her.
After I mark the prey mine with a kiss on the forehead, I leave the room.
I can't sleep tonight. Partly because I couldn't get full relief from tonight's hunt, and partly because of the excitement that will be brought to me tomorrow.
Sighing, I reach for the pills under my bed and pop a few into my mouth. But I still keep seeing flashes of red in the back of my eyes. Shit, this obviously wouldn't help. I reach for my shirt and jeans on the floor, then my coat.
I drive myself out to the closest bar, shivering as I enter the warm, smokey place. There aren't many people in the place, but the dim light is still warm and the glasses are still cool. I decide not to drink anything though. I need to be at my perfect condition tomorrow.
But when a girl near me offers a glass, I can't just resist it. And a pretty girl... I check the blade in my pocket, every inch of my body shivering from anticipation.
"Are you here by yourself?" She asks me, her voice definitely drunk in the deep flooding of the alcohol.
"Should I be?" I say instead, taking a sip from the glass.
"It's not safe for you in this place to be alone," she smiles sickly, her eyes glimmering with excitement. Oh fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck...
"Neither is it for you," I speak huskily, nodding my chin at her exposed breasts.
"You think I can't take care of myself?" She slurs, smirking like a little bitch who's about to be torn into pieces.
"Prove it to me, then," I whisper against her neck, running my fingers across her thigh as the strong scent of her perfume enters my system, activating my hunter instinct.
"Your car?"
Oh darling, I can't let you stain my property, can I? "No. The restroom isn't far away."
Pulling her into the stall, I take my blade out and rip her clothes expertly. She pales at the sight of my weapon.
"What- what's that for?" Her eyes widen, and I push her against the wall.
"Don't worry," I whisper. "Just don't scream."
"Wait-"
I cut her off by biting the skin on her neck, making her gasp.
When it's this easy to make a girl react... I feel pathetic about my failure to do the same thing to the redhead. I wrap my arms tightly around her, securing both her arms as she moans and grinds into me.
If this was the redhead, it would be just perfect. Her body a mess against mine, blood and sweat mixed together, and I can make sure it would be all about passion. I mentally try to replace the girl's black hair with red hair, and her closed eyes with panicked, wide green eyes.
"Oh fuck," I murmur and the girl in front of me responds by wrapping her legs around my waists.
...no, Jace... ...end it now...
I snap back from the pleasure of the girl pressed against my throbbing cock.
Securing her ankles with one hand, I press the cold blade against the pulsing spot on her neck. I swear loudly again in pleasure as her eyes snap open.
"What-"
"Come on, never heard pausing isn't attractive?"
She screams loudly-loud enough.
...They never hear your fucked up screams...
...Come on, listen to mommy when she's saying it nicely, Jacey...
My head throbs in pain, and I try to ignore it as I watch the clear red beads from against the girl's neck.
"Please," the girl gasps. "Please don't do this- help!"
But they never stop when I asked. Anger consumes up my body and I stab the blade through the bitch's hand. Very unprofessional of me, I know.
But she still screams in a perfect way. Perfect way to end this perfect night.
.
.
.
I finish my drink calmly, and I get out of the place after hearing a shriek from the restroom.
Through the foggy headache in my head which is piercing through the center of my brain, I find the girl sitting outside on the grass with her back turned to me. She's leaning against the fence that separates the land of the crazy and the land of the stone faced passersby. Alone.
A group of other teen girls walk past her, shooting her a dirty look. And that explains it. Even in the land of the crazy, she's the queen of madness.
Entertained, I crouch down and tap her shoulder through the gap on the fence, and she turns around to see me.
"Hello," I say, putting on my best gentleman-before-psycopath smile.
"Hey, you're back, Sebby!" She exclaims, her eyes exploding like fireworks-only if I can make it literal instead of metaphorical.
"Sebby?" I ask, frowning, but without losing my smile. "Is that my new name or something?"
"Well, I thought," she starts proudly. "I should call you Sebastian, because you look like him."
"Do I?" The headache pounds harder against my brain in amusement. And she never asks for my real name. "Tell me, is this Sebastian guy good looking?"
"He's a prince," she replies as if that answers the question. "He's the one who rescues me from a burning castle."
So I decide this Sebastian guy must be an insane artwork created in this girl's mind.
"Sweetie, how old are you?" I ask, truly curious.
"I'm... Fifteen. But I'm almost sixteen, though."
"Still young, aren't you?" I say softly, sitting on the grass comfortably with the fence between me and the girl,
"Not that young," she protests. "I'm quite mature in the inside, you know."
I laugh, trying to suppress the sarcasm in my voice and replace it with warmth. "Of course you are, sweetie."
"Why do you keep calling me that?" She asks, genuinely puzzled.
"What, sweetie?" I lean back, amused. "You don't like being called that?"
"I mean, it's not like I'm a chocolate bar or something." Honestly. She never heard of that before? "It's quite intimidating, you know. It feels like you want to eat me or something."
Sweetie, it just makes me go delirious at the thought of how much I want to eat you out, clawing at your tempting flesh...
"Oh come on, don't tell me you don't know what that means." Though, I wouldn't really mind. Innocence is also as hot as fuck.
She blinks, her green eyes turning greener the more I look into them. "I..."
I laugh lightly, shaking my head.
"Are you laughing at me?" She asks, her cheeks turning red. "Sebastians always laugh at me."
"Do we?"
"I only want people to laugh at my dead body. I think it's very rude to laugh at a breathing one. But a dead body might be fun," she blurs off the last part, as if she's thinking carefully of something.
"I'm sorry if we offended you." Cause who gives a fuck on what the actual Sebastian guy does when she's by herself?
"Well, you can't blame me for not knowing..." Her eyebrows arch into a frown. "What's that?" She asks in a truly intrigued voice, lifting the sleeve of my sweater. She's looking at the red lines, tracing them with her fingertips.
"It's... An attempt," I decide to answer curtly. Not yet.
"An attempt? For what?"
I take her fingers off from my wrist, taking them back to her side of the fence. I, then, reach out through the barrier to touch her red curls.
"You know where you go when you die, sweetie?" I ask, going for innocence.
"Mommy said we all go up to the clouds. She told me we all get chocolate ice cream. Well, if you be nice, I guess."
"Yes, the paradise. Well, with these," I tell her sincerely, looking into the depth of her eyes. "You can get closer to those clouds for a while."
"Have you?" She asks, tilting her head. "Gotten closer?"
"Of course I have," I offer her a smile which she returns. "Here, let me show you."
I take my pocketknife out, studying her reaction carefully. She doesn't show a sign of surprise, but seems to be curious nonetheless. I press it against the skin of my wrist-just not enough for me to bleed-as the redhead gasps.
"Doesn't that hurt? Mommy told me not to get close to sharp things. She said it makes you bleed."
"Aw, sweetie," I release my wrist from the tension, having not planned to bleed in front of her just yet. "But blood is the golden key to the heaven. I'm afraid your mommy was just trying to stop you from being happy in paradise and all, Clary."
"But..." Her face crunched up in betrayal. Damn, this girl believes too hard. But hard is good, alright. "Why would she feel that way? Is it because I was being a bad girl? She told me that once. She told me I'd go to hell."
"Sweetie, you need to be free from your mommy, okay? She's not going to make you happy. Don't believe in what she says."
Then I offer her the knife. I don't want her trying it yet, but I know she'll refuse it for now.
"I don't..." Of course. "I don't think..."
I retrieve it, giving her a tense smile. She tries to return it in an awkward way, but her face suddenly turns into walls of horror as the knife is kicked away from my grip.
I look up, my eyes finding a set of angry green.
"What are you doing to my daughter?" She demands in a hysterical voice, her eyes burning into mine.
"Why, ma'm, I-"
"Stay. Away. From her," and I can see it. The pure protectiveness toward her daughter trembling across the fence. "Clarissa, we're going home," she eyes the redhead, trying to reach for her hand.
The young girl looks at me sheepishly for a moment, remembering what I've just said. Don't listen to her, I speak silently.
"I'm... Sorry..." She mumbles, then stands up.
Then I'm left alone on the outer side of the fence as the younger redhead walks hesitantly to the office to check out. The mother keeps turning back to me, and I find it extremely disturbing.
Maybe I should just kill her.
Maybe I should just kill her, I think. It's going to be simple. No more smell of her perfume on my pillow, no more pretending to be asleep.
"Jacey, you in there?" I hear the terrifying voice from out of my room.
My heart beats restlessly, and my hands shake as the whole atmosphere seems to be full of fear, anxiety, and distress, driving me crazy. I hate this. I hate feeling weak and pathetic.
And I know, I know, I KNOW, I KNOW.
The girl takes her mother's hand, crossing the road while trying to take a glance of me.
"I can never kill her," I wince out, my voice barely audible in agony and fear.
My head starts to pound. Hard. But hard is good, alright.
Hello! In case you guys are confused, the italics from the last part is a pov from Jace's past. Kinda like a flashback, really. Sorry if it got you guys wondering.
Anyways, thank you all for reading and thanks for the feedbacks. Love hearing from you guys. I really hope you enjoyed.
Any criticism welcomed as long as it's helpful ;)