Rated M for: Language/Violence/Gore? I guess it could be called gore...If not, consider that a loose warning. AND there's a little...smut.
A/N: One of my oneshots, I'd Rather Die Young, won first place for Best Songfic in the 2011 Mortal Instruments Awards. :)...yaaayy.
And as for the wait, as I've been getting complaints about: School just started for me. And as I've mentioned before, I suck balls at math...Not literally, my math teacher's a woman. But my dumbass old teacher signed me up for all advanced, so now I'm learning math I was supposed to learn in two years. So I've been stressed and have little writing time. So sorry, but it's one of those things I just can't control. :/
But to make it up to you, I'll write a oneshot. Hopefully very soon. :)..And this time "very soon" doesn't mean over two weeks.
Disclaimer: Cassie owns the characters. I just make 'em crazy. ;)
Clary
Martha's Doll
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I swallowed hard, looking at the crowbar Martha held in 'her' hands, terror clawing it's way up my spine, planting seeds of fear in my skull.
"Come here, Dolly," Martha sang in that sugary-sweet voice. "Come out here and plaaay."
Why did I have to leave my coat in that room? Why? I bit my lower lip, wondering if Magnus/Martha/Maggie ever appeared in front of Alec. How could he be in a relationship with somebody with two other identities? It wasn't like Spiderman and Peter Parker. He was literally three different people.
But I was crushing on a pyro who hated me. Yeah. No point in denying it. Especially since my chances of surviving Martha were slim. Even Jace had seem slightly nervous just talking about her.
Martha had seemed to have lost her patience, waiting for me to step out. Her long slender hand, the one not holding the weapon, shot out and grabbed me by chunks of hair. I grunted, wincing at the pain in my scalp as she yanked me over to her.
"Tut tut, Dolly dear," she tsk'ed, shaking her head in disappointment. "I'm disappointed in you. When I say come out..." She leaned her face forward, her violet green eyes flashing. "You fucking come out," she growled, her voice devoid of any childish sweetness it'd contained before.
I tried to nod, forgetting that she was still gripping my hair. "A-alright," I stammered, looking away from her. She looked so frightening. Demented, too-wide smile covering her face. Eyes round, managing to look innocent and hateful at the same time.
"Okey dokey," she sang cheerfully, her dark mood lifting. "Now, Dolly; Ready to see your dollhouse?"
I felt dread filling me. Even if there was a way to get away from Martha, it'd most likely end up being violent. And if I hurt Martha, I hurt Magnus.
"Of course."
Martha gave a happy, girlish squeal, and let go of my hair. I breathed a sigh of relief.
...Only to whimper as Martha wrapped some sort of cloth around my head, covering my mouth. She grabbed both of my hands and pulled them behind me, and did some sort of bending thing, causing me to scream into the gag and my bones squeak in protest.
"Bad Dolly," Martha snapped, the crowbar coming down and cracking against my ribcage.
I tried to swallow back my screams, knowing they'd only get me more...beatings from Martha.
The scream turned into bile, and I struggled to keep it in my stomach, not wanting to throw up into the gag.
"Good girl," she murmured, running a hand down my cheek. "You're learning." My arms, which were beginning to numb, thankfully, anything other than that pain again, were tied together behind my back, and she pushed me out of the bathroom, leading me through the Institute.
People walked by us, people rolled in wheelchairs by us, and Izzy was even swinging from beam to beam, making monkey noises and completely ignoring my dilemma. Of course. Martha was Magnus to her, she wouldn't know the difference.
I got saliva on my cheek and on my pretty dress, from where a group of mean boys spit on me as Martha shoved me ahead, causing me to stumble. I could feel my cheeks redden when the same boys pulled down their pants and made rather inappropriate movements, saying disturbing things to me, causing everyone around us to laugh.
Martha ignored them, pushing me up the stairs and into what I assumed was Magnus's room. Until I saw what was inside.
The walls were painted bubblegum pink, with a small white, four-poster bed with lacy white and pink pillows and comforter.
There was a tea-set sitting on a cream-colored coffee table with pink and white checkered table-cloth. Martha led me over to the coffee table, forcing me to sit down on the cute little chairs placed around the round table.
Martha hummed, picking up a china teapot, and pouring...blood into my teacup.
My eyes widened. Where did she get the blood from? ...Did I really just ask such an obvious question?
"Well, since you're already dressed up for a tea party," Martha commented happily. "I'll get ready while you introduce yourself to Mr. and Mrs. Wendy, Jokey the Clown, and Ralf."
She danced over to a closet on the other side of the room. As she opened it, my eyes slid shut, trying to block the away the memory of the sight I'd just seen.
Bodies. So many bodies. And loose body parts. A random arm, a detatched leg. I even saw a head. Some were still bloody, fresh-looking. Others looked rotten.
I choked on the nausea. She was going to kill me.
Martha ignored the bodies, and quickly stripped-at that point I looked away-tugging a flowery pink dress over her head. "Ready!" She clapped excitedly. "Oh! Let me grab a couple more guests!"
I stared at the other members currently sitting at the table. Mr. and Mrs. Wendy, I was guessing, were the two dolls sitting on my left. Mr. Wendy was missing his right arm, and stuffing was trailing out of his doll-like belly, looking like a stab wound.
Mrs. Wendy was missing chunks of hair, which I assumed Martha had yanked out in the middle of a temper tantrum. She was missing an eye, and she had plenty of deep rips through her dainty-like body. Possibly from the same knife that had stabbed her husband.
Jokey the Clown was made of porcelain, a dirty, juigly hat and moth-eaten clothes covered his small, and badly cracked body, with half of his head broken off. He had a similar smile to Martha's plastered on his face, his remaining eye was beady and eerie-looking.
Gulping, I turned towards 'Ralf'. A sock puppet, thank God.
Until I realized the "sock puppet" was really a rotten foot.
I tried to hold my breath. It smelled horrible in here. Like the bathroom had, that morning. It reeked of death. Worse, there was more than one body. And they weren't exactly...new.
"Here they are!" Martha dropped two bodies-Dear Lord, I was about to have the same fate as those corpses-in two of the three remaining chairs. "That's Sally," she pointed to a girl, about twelve, with matted blonde curls hanging in her face, eye sockets with no eyeballs, and a gaping mouth full of teeth that were in a painful need of washing. Her clothes smelled like pee and blood. I retched. A child. Younger than me.
Martha really didn't have any mercy.
"And that's Eli." The boy...If I went into a description for him, I think I may vomit. But I had a gag on, so what was the harm?
Eli, I'm guessing, had been pale-skinned when he was alive. But his skin now, was black. Charred. As if he'd been burnt alive, like a crisp cookie.
Jace.
Singed eyebrows. His face contorted into a rough surface of lumps and scars, of what I could tell through the black.
Jace did this to him.
Eli was short. Slender. Young looking.
Jace killed a boy. A boy who had to be ten.
Three fingers on his right hand were missing. His left thumb was in a permanent state of mid-melting, looking like it belonged on the hand of a wax doll. A melting wax doll.
I can't believe I had a discussion with a man who'd done such a horrible thing.
I mean, sure, I'd heard the rumors. I'd seen Raphael.
But this...This was too much.
Martha appeared to have noticed my horror towards the victims. "Oh, don't pity Sally, Dolly," she soothed in that same sweet voice. Disgustingly, frightening sweet voice that I would have nightmares about, if I survived this. "She was a naughty girl. Very, very naughty. She tried to run away..." She began swaying back and forth, the blonde wig on her head bouncing with the sausage ringlets. "So I had to make her stay. My brother helped me. You won't run, will you, Dolly?"
I shook my head. Maggie's Jace's girlfriend...Martha's Jace's little sister...Magnus and Jace don't like eachother. Why is Jace so involved?
Martha beamed. "Lovely."
She sat down, and picked up the small white teapot. "Here's some tea for Mr. Wendy..." She tipped the pitcher-like dish, and I frowned as a scarlet liquid-thickly-poured out and into the waiting cup. "And some for the beautiful Mrs. Wendy..." She moved around the table, pouring some of the mysterious beverage into everyone's cup.
I looked down at mine. Was I supposed to drink that stuff? She leaned over the table, and slid the gag down to my neck, freeing my mouth.
"Drink." Martha clapped her hands.
Guess so. Picking up the cup, straining against the rope that binded me to the chair, I took a sip.
...And immediately fought the urge to spit the disgusting stuff out.
Blood. She'd given me blood to drink.
I forced it down; I don't think 'Martha' would appreciate it if I spit out the blood all over the powder-white cloth.
Martha tossed her cup back, and I gaped as blood spilled down her chin and onto her dress. She licked her lips. "My favorite," she purred contently.
Of course it is.
I set my cup down, and cleared my throat. "Martha?"
She turned to smile at me, flashing pearly white teeth stained with the blood she'd slurped down. "Yes, Dolly?"
"Uh..." I held my breath. The stink of Sally, Ralf and Eli was beginning to burn my nostrils. "What-what's going to happen to me?" I mean, she had said she was going to skin me and stuff me, but she couldn't have been serious, right?
Martha shrugged. "You will find out."
Oh, I can't wait.
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Martha tightened the knot of the rope she'd tied around me. "There." She stepped away, looking satisfied.
I gulped, looking down at myself. I was perfectly helpless. No knife. No gun. No Jace. No Izzy. Nothing to save me, this time.
She clapped her hands. "Alrighty, then. Lets get started, shall we?"
I didn't answer.
Martha didn't seem to mind my silence; She turned and walked over to a small pink music box resting on her dresser. Opening it up, I squinted, and felt my stomach drop. There was a sharp, extremely sharp knife laying in the box.
"Ah." Martha smiled. "Perfect." She glided over to me, and slid cool, slim fingers under my chin, tilting my head up. "Do you know why you are here, Dolly?"
I shook my head.
"Because..." Martha slid the knife up, the coldness of the blade a relief against my overheated cheeks. "You tried to take my brother away from me."
Jace? I shook my head. "No, Jace doesn't even like me-"
"Shut up," she spat out violently, dropping her hand from beneath my chin, and slapping me coldly across the cheek. My head snapped back, and I blinked in surprise. Where she'd hit me was beginning to sting, but it didn't so much hurt as it surprised me. I'd taken my fair share of hits in the past, so I had grown used to it.
But while it was Martha who'd slapped me, it was also Magnus.
Bile rose in my throat at the thought of Magnus hitting me.
"As I was saying," she continued, the angry expression instantly smoothing out into her childlike wonder, her voice getting softer, "you tried to take Jacey away from me. And I can't have that, see." She leaned over, catching my eye. "Because if Jace leaves me, then I'll have nobody."
Aw...Is it wrong of me if I felt sympathetic for her? Sure, she was crazy. And she was totally wrong. But she loved Jace, and she didn't want anyone else to have him. It was cute.
Of course, I was still scared of her. Especially since she'd begun to press the dagger against my cheek.
I made a noise at the back of my throat as she abruptly dug the blade in deeper, and a flash of pain shot through my face.
She giggled, and slid her finger under the trickling blood, and licked it slowly off, her eyes never leaving mine. "Yummy. You taste like cherries," she murmured.
I refused to blink, my eyes never leaving hers.
"I want more," she declared. And licked my cheek.
She pulled away, licking her lips.
"You taste wonderful, Dolly," she said happily. "I think I'll keep you."
I let out a sigh of relief, but it quickly faded. I didn't want to know what she was going to do with me if it didn't involve murder...
"But first, I have to kill you." She pouted. "I can't have Jacey knowing you were here, see. Then he'll be mad at me."
Then let me go, I pleaded, silently.
Martha sighed. "Oh, Dolly. Don't give me that look." She smiled at me, sweetly. "It won't hurt me a bit."
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I screamed against the gag, slamming my head back against the wall, writhing against the rope Martha had wrapped me in.
"Shut up!" She brought the golden, leather-like whip down across my ribs, and another flare of white-hot pain flashed through me, and I gave another shriek, struggling not to sob. My body was shaking from the lashes, and the leather had cut so deep blood was staining the white lace of my dress. Not very attractive, I'm sure.
I bit into the gag. Why couldn't she just hurry up and kill me already? The pain was too much. Too much. And just to think, Jace probably did this kind of stuff with her. Brother and sister bonding time, probably. Torturing people. Laughing while they cracked a rib against people like animals.
Martha paused, and took a deep breath. "Dolly, dear," she murmured in a sing-song voice, placing a slender hand on my back, on the slashes in my skin, causing me to hiss in a breath, "you have to understand: I don't like hurting you. But you've left me with no choice. Jacey's quite taken with you." She leaned forward, resting her chin on my bruised shoulder. "And if he likes you better than me, he'll get rid of me." Her breathing was becoming shallower, faster. "Replace me. And I just can't have that, Dolly."
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing what was coming next.
Smack.
"He was MINE first!" Her voice was shrill, but I could barely hear it over the ringing in my ears as her fist connected with the side of my head. "You can't just come in here and take my place, you plastic little slut!" Suddenly, her fingers were on the knots, untying them. I dropped to the floor immediately, and began crawling desperately towards the door.
Martha's dainty high-heels came down on my hand, and I whimpered, watching blood escape the wound she left.
"Uh-uh-uhh," she hummed. "Where do you think you're going, you bad little Dolly?" She leaned down, and squeezed my cheeks with her disturbingly cold hands.
Martha stared into my eyes with her Magnus-ones, and I felt a cool resolution wash over me. I was going to die. End of story. Killed by one of my friends' alter ego.
"I'm not done with you yet," she whispered, and brought the knife she'd held earlier up to my face. "If you aren't pretty, Jacey won't like you anymore."
I frowned, unsure of what she meant, until she pointed to the scar already on my cheek.
"Another won't cause any harm." She smiled charmingly, and cut a slit into my right eyebrow, blood trickling into my eye. "Now." She clapped her hands, and set the knife down. "I think you've learned your lesson for good, haven't you, Dolly?"
I nodded, my neck feeling loose.
She beamed. "Wonderful. Now I'll just toss you and the others into the closet. Jacey should be here soon for our tea time."
I let her drag me by the ankles to her closet, staring blankly ahead as she dropped Sally onto my lap, the force causing her poor head to tear off, and landing on my stomach. I felt like I could vomit; Especially when the rotting foot, Ralf, was thrown at me, narrowly missing my face.
The closet door shut softly with a click, and I was alone in the dark, with only dead people, a headless girl, and a foot that had some sort of...thing growing on it.
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I heard the bedroom door open, and Jace's voice. The sad thing was, I was nearly unconscious from the lack of blood I was still currently losing, but I could still recognize the faint murmur of his voice from miles away.
Murderer.
Pyro.
Liar.
Jerk.
"Clary?"
I nearly cried with relief; Simon.
He was sitting cross-legged in front of me, a confused look on his face. "What the hell happened to you?" He cocked his head. "And why is The Headless Whore on you?"
I scowled at him; It wasn't very nice to talk about dead people that way.
Simon sighed. "You look like shit, Fray."
I nodded my head at the door, ignoring the pain at the back of neck as I did. Simon couldn't get me out of here. Heck, I doubt he'd be able to fight Martha. Or Jace.
I felt my stomach drop.
Jace.
I'd forgotten about him. What would he do if he found me? Would he help me? Help Martha kill me? Unless I died from blood loss in this death-smelling closet. Could you die from that?
Simon leaned forward, and lightly touched my cheek, which was sticky from the drying blood. "I'm sorry I can't help you," he said, his voice miserable. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when this happened. I would've stopped it."
I tried to smile at him through the gag, because really, I doubted there was anything he could do. Jace was right. I couldn't make it here. I was already going to die.
Simon narrowed his eyes. "Wait a minute..." He stood up, and glared down at me. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I blinked up at him.
"You're just...giving up?" Simon punched the wall, an angry expression on his face. "Fuck that. Get off your ass, Fray." I kept staring at him, uncomprehendingly.
"I said," Simon leaned down, pushed his nose against mine, "get off your lazy ass. You are not dying. I won't let you give that asshole the pleasure of winning."
Good point. Besides, when I died, I didn't want it to be in a closet.
Shifting so that Sally slowly rolled off my legs and her head thumped down after her, I lifted myself onto my knees. And looked up at Simon expectantly. My hands were still tied.
"Do it yourself," he said loftily. "You got yourself in this mess, Fray. First with that perv, than Magnus, and then with that bastard of a pyro. Untie yourself."
Bossy.
I gave him an unhappy look, and struggled to wriggled my fingers free, and digging my splintered-fingers into the rope, despite the fact I think my hand was broken from where Martha stomped on it.
My fingers scraped at the rope for a moment, before the knot finally became free, and the rope fell to the floor with a soft thump.
Simon grinned. "See?"
I rolled my eyes, tugging of my gag. "How am I going to get out of here without them seeing me?" I hissed, my voice slightly slurred. My eyelids felt heavy, and my body felt a little numb. I began swaying, but Simon grabbed my arm to hold me in place.
"Jesus." He shook his head. "Clary, calm down. I'm sure they'll leave, soon."
I heard Jace raise his voice, and I pressed my ear to the door to see what he was yelling about.
"...Martha," Jace was saying in a tight voice. "Answer me honestly. Have. You. Seen. Clary?"
I felt warmth wash over me-or maybe it was the hot flash of cramps in my belly-at the thought that he might be worried about me.
I could hear Martha sigh. "Jacey, darling," she said in a soothingy voice. "I haven't seen your little tool. Maybe you should keep better track of your toys, and the little brat wouldn't have disappeared."
I frowned, a little offended. In Jace's defense, she was the one who'd called me her "Dolly".
"I just don't understand where she could've gone," Jace was sounding angrier and angrier by the second. "And you're the only one who could've done something. Dammit, Martha."
"Jacey..." I could hear the quickly vanishing patience in Martha's voice. "Look on the bright side. You have me, now. Why would you need Dol-Clary?"
"I don't need anything," Jace snapped.
"Well, she certainly agreed to that," Martha said, matter-of-fact. "She thinks you hate her."
Simon snorted. "Wow. Dumbass."
I looked over my shoulder at him. "What do you mean?" That was what I'd said, afterall.
He stared at me. "She just totally sold herself out."
"What?...Oh..." I giggled. "Wow, what a moron."
Simon lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. She's the moron."
"I knew it." Jace sighed. "Fuck. Martha, where is she?"
"She is not here, Jace." Martha's voice wasn't so sweet anymore. It was cooler. Flat. Kind of like Jace.
"What do you mean? You just said-" He stopped. "You didn't."
Martha giggled, an off-pitched sound. "Oh, Jacey, dear. Why would you doubt me?"
I'm not sure what happened next, but I heard a choking sound, and Jace swearing. Quite creatively, I must say.
"Tell me where you put her, Martha," he said, his voice low. "Or I swear to God I'll fucking kill you."
Simon scowled. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
I blinked. "What? Are you on her side now?"
"No." Simon crossed his arms petulantly. "I mean, why should he care? He treats you like crap, Clary. He hates you."
Ouch. "Gee, thanks." I cursed at how small my voice sounded.
He gave me a look. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." He sighed. "So, what are you going to do?"
I frowned at him. "What do you mean, what am I going to do?"
"Well, he sounded pretty serious, Clary." Simon folded his lips. "I think he's going to kill your little friend."
"What?" I demanded, my voice raised. "Are you crazy?" I hissed. "Magnus is...Well, he's sort of his friend."
Simon shrugged. "Does Jace really strike you as the type to give a shit who he kills?"
Oh, my God.
I bit my lip. "I guess not." I sucked my teeth. "Dang it."
I threw open the door, and gasped. Jace had Martha up against the wall, one hand tight around her throat. It seemed like one was enough, because her face was looking a little purple. In his free hand, he held a coconut-shaped..metallic black thing.
"Jace?" I'm not sure if I said his name out loud, or if I even said it right, because my vision was suddenly very unfocused.
He looked over at me, and his eyes widened. "Sparky?"
Simon, behind me, snickered. "Ha. It sounds like he's naming you after a bitch."
"Shut up, Si."
Martha got free, and brought her foot up to Jace's...private area. And normally, I've seen boys fall to their knees when they were kicked there. But Jace didn't even flinch.
"What the hell?" He pushed Martha to the floor, and walked over to me. "Clary..." He looked at me. "You look like shit."
Simon guffawed. "That's what I said."
I swayed, but instead of one of the boys catching me, Jace just watched me fall.
"You can't even stand up." Jace shook his head. "Idiot. Why in the hell would you go with Martha? She's crazier than Maggie, dammit."
I looked up at him, and giggled. "Jace...you're so pretty, I could lick you."
Jace and Simon's eyebrows shot up at the same time, while I was mentally kicking myself. Lick you? Jeez. Did I sound like a dirty pervert.
"Did she give you something to smoke?" Jace wondered. "Or wait...Sparky, did Martha stick a needle in you?"
A needle? What, was a doctor another one of Magnus's personalities? I could just picture how violent that one would be. Probably had a saw on him, to.
Jace crouched down next to me, and laid a warm hand on my cheek. "You're going to have a nasty scar there," he muttered. I nuzzled my face into his hand, loving how his skin felt against mine. Ever since I'd admitted to myself that I liked him, in that way, I couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. Good things, and bad things about him. I guess I could live with the fact that he enjoyed killing and torturing people. And yeah, I could deal with him talking to me like I'm a female dog. Heck, I'd be fine with him being a jerk all the time.
"Jace," I sighed, looking up at him. "I love you."
He let go of my cheek, and my head thumped back on the floor, pain shooting to my skull. "Ow!"
Jace have me a disgusted look. "What the fuck, Clary?"
I guess I would have to convince him. "Oh, I do, Jace." I sat up, ignoring the fact that the room was spinning. "I love you. So much. And I don't care about how much you hate me. I'll love you forever, and no matter how many people you kill, I'll accept the fact you like doing it, even though I still think it's mean. And if you end up killing me, I'll love you then."
Simon laughed. "Shit, Clary, listen to yourself. You sound like you're doped up on drugs, or something."
Jace shook his head. "Damn. You're more fucked up than I thought."
I smiled up at him, and then passed out.
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I woke up in a bed that wasn't my own.
Actually, I was pretty sure I was dead and had gone to...Where do you go when you died? Canada? That was up, right? Some old lady at the grocery store told me people went up when we died.
I hope I won't meet Justin Bieber here.
But as I looked around the plain, white room, I realized it had similar features to mine and Izzy's.
So I wasn't in Canada.
I sighed in disappointment. Dang it, I've always wanted to go there.
I looked down at myself; I had bandages, a lot like the ones I'd put on Jace yesterday, covering my shoulder, one on my neck, and some on my back, ribs, and my right hand. Which was throbbing.
I pulled aside the covers, and stood up. The room slanted forward, and I immediately fell, wincing as my swelling hand slapped the floor.
Well, that didn't work.
I heard some running water, like a shower. Oooh. This bedroom was next to the bathrooms. How convinient for whoever was staying in here.
By the way, who is staying in here?
Since I was still feeling a little dizzy, I decided to crawl towards the door, but saw my green jacket laying at the foot of the bed, and stopped. I smiled widely and grabbed it off, quickly sliding my arms through the sleeves.
Ahh. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the only comfort I could seem to find in this madhouse. Except for Jace-Oh, God. Jace. I grimaced; I'd forgotten that I...said those things. I meant them, of course, but crap. I was screwed now.
I resumed my crawling, but I was still terribly embarassed. Oh, Jace must be laughing now. At the stupid, crazy girl with her stupid, crazy mouth.
Just as I pushed the door open, and was beginning to shuffle into the hallway, I saw a pair of glittery-purple and blue Converse shoes. And the leather pants that followed. And the super-tight Lady GaGa shirt that followed.
Magnus was smiling down at me.
"Hey, Clary!" He crouched down, and I instinctively flinched away, and immediately felt guilty at the hurt look on his face. But I couldn't help it. Looking at him...I could only see Martha, slicing my face with a knife. Playing with dead bodies. Beating me with a gold whip.
"Listen, Clary..." He sighed. "I'm really, really sorry. I just...I can't remember anything that happened. Did I do anything horrible to you?" He looked at my face, and my bandages.
I forced a smile; Because really, Magnus was the sweetest guy I knew. I couldn't hurt him. I couldn't tell him that the sight of him at the moment made me want to pee myself. Or cry. Or made my scars and hand throb from the memories.
"No, Magnus." I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. You didn't hurt me at all. This was done by...other people." Like Martha.
He visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank God." He gave me a charming smile. "You should've seen Jace. He ran up here like Hell was after him." Magnus sighed. "Man, I haven't seen him that freaked out, before."
It was probably my declaration of love for him that sent him running. I nodded. "Great. I freak out Jace." I felt my face crumble, and wished it were possibly for the ground to swallow me whole. "Where is he? I need to thank him. And apologize."
Magnus shrugged. "Don't know. The jackass left you as soon as he got you in bed. Didn't even stay to see if you'd wake up."
"So..." I frowned. "Who bandaged me up?"
"Jace did. Said he didn't want your blood staining his sheets." Magnus grinned. "I'm surprised he didn't let you bleed out on his floor."
"Bleed out on his floor?" Oh my, I was beginning to feel a little faint. I'm surprised he didn't already do that, myself.
"Wouldn't be the first time it's happened." Magnus shrugged. "I think you might actually be growing on him."
But if I start getting too attatched...well, he might just kill me.
"That's great, Magnus." I sighed. "I have to go to the bathroom, though. The bathroom's..." I looked around his legs. "Right across the hall. Cool."
Magnus cleared his throat. "Ah, that's the Boy's Room, Clary."
"So? The Girl's Bathroom is probably too far away, and I'll just end up getting lost. Plus, the only person in there is showering He'll never notice me."
He gave me a dubious look. "Jace said the last time you went to the bathroom alone, you were idiotically tricked into being kidnapped."
I scowled, and slapped my hand on the floor.
...And screamed on the inside because it was my injured hand, and it really freaking hurt.
"Yeah? Well, Jace is a jerk! He can't tell me what to do, and he doesn't like me anyway!" I gasped. "Oh my God, please don't tell him I said that. I'm so mean. I can't believe I just said that about him-"
Magnus gave me a funny look. "I don't think Jace will care."
Of course he doesn't. Jace doesn't care about anything.
"I don't think so either." I suddenly felt very depressed. These dang mood swings, I swear! If I get another personality, I might just jump out a window. "Oh, well. Later, Magnus."
He nodded and walked away, leaving me alone with my depressing thoughts. And since when did I have depressing thoughts? I'm spending way too much time with killers.
I sighed and crawled across the hall and to the bathroom, elbowing the door open.
It wasn't that much different from the Girl's Bathroom, except for they had more sinks. And the extra sinks looked a little different from how I was used to seeing them.
I shrugged and made my way to one of the bathroom stalls. Thankfully, the showers were at the end of the room, near the bath tubs, so after I flushed I could make a run for it, and rinse my hands before getting the heck out of here before whoever's showering could catch me.
Weirdly enough, after I went, I heard a weird...moaning noise.
I froze. I swear to God, if there was a serial-killing ghost in here, I would go ballistic.
I slid out the stall and towards one of the weird sinks. Oddly enough, they didn't have any faucets. Or soap. I frowned. God, the boys here were filthy. So I stuck with the regular sinks.
And then I heard that same moaning noise. Again.
Aw, whatever. If I didn't go see what it was, it would bother me for the rest of the day.
Sighing, I limped down the rows of stalls and towards the showers.
All the shower curtains were open, except one. And that one had the water running. And the moaning.
I squinted my eyes. The curtain was a white color. Very thin. So thin, in fact, I could make out the person's profile. He was tall. Slender, and muscular. And what was that...? His hand was moving below his waist, back and forth. His breathing was heavy and loud, like his moaning, I could hear it over the running water.
I blinked, and clapped a hand over my mouth to cover my gasp. Was he...Oh, my God. He was touching himself. In that...area. Was that even normal?
His head went back, and I heard him groan again. "Oh, fuck yeah," I heard him hiss. In a very familiar voice, I must add.
I shifted, frowning. Was I bleeding again? I thought it would stop, after this morning. At least for another day. Weird. It didn't feel like blood. And my stomach was feeling funny, too. Not cramps...It was tense. Like it was clenching, the way it did when you were going up on a roller coaster, and you're about to reach the top of the first drop. That's what it felt like.
"Yes," the mystery man growled, sounding animalistic. The weird-thing-that-was-not-blood was coming out quicker at the sound. I felt suddenly very afraid. What the heck was going on? I just went to the bathroom. And I didn't feel the urge to go again...God, this was so aggravating!
"Fuck, CLARY."
I jumped and blinked, startled out of my thoughts. Was I busted? Did he see me?
Apparently not. The curtain was still closed, but...I narrowed my eyes. What was-was he peeing? In the shower? Oh, gross. And the bathroom stalls were right next to him, too!
His hand dropped to his side, and his other rested on the tile-wall, panting heavily.
I swallowed hard, and crossed my legs, hoping to stop my...whatever. Except that just made me feel...better? The pressure made me whimper, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, startled by my reaction. Since when did crossing my legs made me feel good?
The shower water went off. And a long, slender hand clutched at the curtain, which was soon pulled away, revealing-
...A very naked Jace.
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-I swear to all of you, I will never make you wait that long. Ever again. I know how it feels. I've been waiting for one of my favorite stories to update for like four months, now.
-Magnus's personalities all have something with Jace. That will be revealed later on...
-Heehee. The majority of you voted for lemons, so I started with Naughty-Jace in the shower. ;)
-Martha's torture...That's actually what stumped me. Took me a while to come up with torture-ideas.
-No Jonathon and Sebastian in this chapter. Later, they shall appear...
-Sorry if I didn't answer everyone's reviews. I read every single one of them, and I love them. But if you're anonymous, just ask me to answer your question in my A/Ns, since I can't answer you any other way...
-Unless they're spoilers. I don't give away spoilers. BWAHAHAHA!
-Simon/OC oneshot is under construction.
-Review