LadyDragonsblood, I think horror movies are probably an acquired taste. I love them, but they don't really scare me anymore.. But written horror stories do better at it. I was actually angry when I wrote it, it could've been worse content wise.. Thank you, as always. Debwood-1999, it leads to something indeed. takers dark lover, maybe, maybe not.
Red Xmas;
Chapter nine/ 'Jingle Hell'
Rated; M/ L (horror theme, adult situations)
(-Monday-)
Phil didn't know why he was going. Go off on some wild goose chase. Morrison probably didn't know who killed Orton anymore than the cops did at the moment. But hell, maybe he'd get a good laugh out of it. And maybe there were deeper motives he refused to admit to himself yet. He looked around outside, the snow had laid pretty good and the windshield had to be scraped off. Usually Phil liked to walk to most places, but John's aunt's house was a pretty good ways out and kind of out and alone by itself. He made up his mind to drive there instead.
After getting in the car, the engine was immediately started and the heat turned up. A punk band blasted out of the stereo and Phil hummed tunelessly as he waited for the car to warm up. It was a mere distraction really.. even though it wasn't a good one. Phil dreaded even going to see his ex. He turned the wipers on to get rid of the excess snow and looked at the clock. It was 9:15am. He thought he'd rather be in bed with Gerard, curled up, warm and asleep. Gerard was still sleeping when he left him.
He hadn't told him he was even going or what Morrison had said. He really didn't want to worry him with it. Besides, he had nothing to hide in going, he wasn't going to do anything inappropriate. Gerard trusted him.
Phil finally pulled out of the driveway and headed towards Mor's. He really couldn't stand that house, it was creepy for some reason. When he and Mor had dated, Johnny spent most of it at Phil's apartment. Maybe twice Phil stayed at the house.. but he didn't particularly care to. He never would again anyhow.
He turned the wipers on high as the snow started peppering down harder. Maybe it'd snow them in after all.. As long as it was with Gerard in his apartment and not with Morrison in that creepy old house. He swore he'd dig his way out and crawl home if that happened.
Ah, fuck, he probably should have told Gerard where he was going. Especially if Morrison really did have a feasible suspect and he had to tell that Morrison was his source.. Or well, he probably wouldn't have to.. Eh, if he had to, he'd tell him he told him over the phone. The trip to John's never happened.
But then, damn, Jeff Hardy knew all about this and he might blab and Phil would be screwed anyway. And Gerard would want to know why Phil was too scared to tell him.. Well, he wasn't scared at all. Because he wasn't guilty at all.. Still, his reputation wasn't exactly positive.. Then again, he didn't know why he was pondering any of it. They were all adults.. even if their maturity was often questioned.
A strange sense of doom ran through him as he pulled up into the driveway and stared at the old brick house. He stopped the car and let his forehead rest on the cool steering wheel for a moment. Two things could happen if Johnny made this difficult; he'd kick his little glittery ass, or leave. Maybe both. Phil got out into the cold and pulled his jacket tighter, that sense of doom only escalating as he climbed the porch steps.
Now immediately Phil should have known something was off, maybe that explained the doom. Usually Mor would have heard his old hunk of junk and came out to greet him.. he really should have known something was off when he saw that the door was cracked open a bit.
Maybe Johnny had heard him pull up and had unlocked it for him..
Phil swallowed and choked down that bit of anxiety that wanted to dare show itself and pushed the door open a bit further, peeking in.
"John? I told you to keep this door locked.." He was only greeted with silence. He entered the living room and shut the door behind him. "Johnny, I'm here. Now come out and tell me what you needed to tell me."
He waited and listened, but the silence buzzed loudly in his ears. It wasn't like a normal silence. This silence hung heavy, a lonely silence.. Maybe Johnny was still in bed.. Shit, it was still extremely early, why did Phil expect his highness to be up at this hour..? But that wouldn't explain the door being cracked open.. unless Mor was waiting to try to get him in bed.
Phil huffed. He wasn't having these games. "Mor? I swear I'm about to turn around and walk out that door.." More silence. Phil couldn't stand it. He felt he shouldn't, but stalked off down the hallway anyway. "Goddammit, Johnny, I'm not in the mood for-"
He stopped when he entered the bedroom, horrified with the sight he was met with. It was too unreal, like a nightmare. He briefly wondered if it was a joke.. it couldn't be real. Bile caught in his throat and he covered his mouth.
John Morrison lay sprawled out across the bed on his back, his cold and lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. There was a blood-stained pillow laying beside him, the rumpled sheets were soaked with blood. Phil didn't even want to believe it was him with how bad his face was carved up. Phil stood frozen to the spot, he couldn't scream, though he wanted to. Instead he clutched to his stomach, his legs finally working so he could run to the bathroom and drop down in front of the toilet to vomit.
Mainly it was dry heaves and Phil sat there awhile with his head laying on his arm as it laid on the edge of the bowl. No no no, this couldn't happen.. The door was cracked because someone had broken in. He had said someone was following him. Fuck. He was right, the fucker was right.
With shaky hands Phil flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth out. He didn't want to look back in that room and see that mess. His ex all carved up. His looks, that's what he cared about. Fucking vanity. Stupid bitch. Phil wasn't sure why he was staring back into the room and didn't realize he was crying. That whimper that escaped him seemed so foreign.
"Fuck, John.. I didn't want this to happen.." Phil looked around the room. Nothing looked out of place except the chair and a busted up stereo. It was one of those ones with a CD player and a cassette player.. It was destroyed, like someone had beat the shit out of it with something.
And shit, what was he supposed to do now? He should get out of there, he knew.. Run, run away before the cops got there and pinned it on him. Maybe they couldn't if he called them himself and told them what he found. If he ran, he'd look even more suspicious. He didn't know when he got out his phone, or called 9-1-1, he was in this strange jello-like hazed existence. When the call was answered, Phil could only mutter that there was a murder. He found the body. He wasn't sure how he gave them the correct address.
-xx-
Phil was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the dark fireplace. He could still hear the voices of the past whispering in his head. He sat beside Morrison in Christmas's past, the fire crackling and giving the room a dim glow as shadows danced on the walls.
Mor smiled at him, nuzzling his head against his shoulder. "We could do it in front of the fireplace, if you want.. could turn the lights down real low.." He brushed his fingers up Phil's jean covered thigh, ignoring how his boyfriend tensed. "Just have the light of the fire and the tree."
The large Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, in the present time it was bare and tree-less. But at that time, it was gorgeous. Wrapped around its branches were flashing lights of multiple colors and glittery gold garland. An assortment of ornaments hung on its full, thick branches. Presents with giant bows rested on a skirt underneath the festive tree and a silver star sat atop it.
He felt John's hand between his legs now, gently groping and rubbing him, his lips on his neck. But Phil was uncomfortable.. not just because of the creepy house, but because of what he knew about his boyfriend.
'Have you fucked him in front of the fire, Johnny? Did you ride his dick on that rug?' He wanted to ask, but he couldn't bear to right now. He could almost perfectly see John naked and straddled over Orton, taking his dick, his taut skin glistening with a sheen of sweat in the light of the flickering fire, hair flipped over to the side. Phil twitched.
"Philly, what's wrong..?"
"Nothing, Johnny. Nothing's wrong at all." Phil said out loud as he echoed the memory and banished it away once again.
By the time the police arrived, he was down to biting his nails and staring instead at the dark television screen. He tried to answer their questions the best he could, hoping they would only realize that he was in shock and not guilty of the crime himself.
"I think you need to come down with us to the station.." One said. It was a female cop, her voice was gentle, he thought she said her name was Naomi. It was good to get out of everyone's way anyhow, they had to work. The crime scene techs were back in the bedroom photographing the body, looking for evidence they could use.
Phil had looked up at the suggestion. "But I didn't kill him. He wanted me to stop by cuz he had to tell me something. I got here and.. oh, god.." His head dropped into his hands.
"Sir..? Sir..? It's just a formality, we just want to question you. We'll get you out of here." She nodded to another officer who was a heavy man, his badge said his name was Clay.. maybe..
Phil let them lead him out to a police car. He wasn't handcuffed, but was still put in the backseat. They didn't think he should drive until he calmed down. They'd give him a ride away from this awful place at any rate.
-xx-
Adam pulled a long strand of red garland out of a storage box. "Come on, Jeffy, come help me. We always do this together.."
Jeff's lips quirked. "You're behind on it this year. Shame." He gave a teasing tsk and started helping Adam wind the garland around the Christmas tree. The poor tree had seen better days, but Adam couldn't afford a new one this year, so old faithful would have to do. "Is your tummy any better?"
"Oh, yes. The antacids worked." Adam picked up the box of bulbs and started hanging them in various places, trying not to get two greens or two reds or blues too close to each other. "I just.. I feel so guilty for Randy, you know.."
Jeff took some bulbs of his own and got the opposite side of the tree. "Why? You had nothing to do with his death. It isn't your fault."
"I know that, Jeff.. I just kept wishing so hard he'd fuck off and leave me alone.. I couldn't stand him constantly rubbing my face in his bullshit." Adam twisted a loose hook back tight. "Now he'll definitely leave me alone.. forever."
Jeff reached down to pick up a bulb he had dropped. He was thankful they were just plastic and the floor had carpeting and they didn't have to pick up broken glass shards. "As shitty as it is, the guy had pissed off more than one person. He had plenty of enemies. Did it to himself kinda."
Adam finished with the bulbs and got out a pack of other random ornaments, some with significant meanings, others just because they had caught Adam's fancy. He slipped a Santa's string around a branch. "It felt like he had everything except anything that mattered. It seemed like a sad kind of life."
Jeff took an ornament of two snowmen in a loving embrace out of the box. It had their names on it and was the first ornament they bought together as a couple. "It was. Cuz the one thing he didn't have, was you." Jeff leaned forward and kissed his smiling blonde. "You make me the richest man in the world."
Adam blushed, wrapping his arms around Jeff's neck and nuzzling his cheek. "Awww, Jeff.. You're the sweetest man in the world. And I love you."
Jeff pecked his lips again. "And I love you." He hung the ornament and stepped back to look at the progress so far. "Well, it's not such a bad little tree, Charlie Brown."
Adam laughed and shoved playfully at his boyfriend. "You hush, it's perfect."
-xx-
Gerard woke up alone in the apartment. At first he figured Phil was just on a late run and grabbed a bowl of cereal before showering. Now he sat fully dressed in the living room hours later, watching SpongeBob on a muted TV screen. He looked down at his phone and sighed. It had refused to ring. He had already called Phil twice and left a message telling him to call him back. He had even texted.
Phil hadn't even left a note and with the snow storm picking up some, he was worried. And maybe a little bored.. Shit, staying in and fucking all day beat the hell out of this shit any day.
Gerard scratched at his messy hair and tried calling again, getting that totally Phil-like message. He better not be getting sucked off right now. Gerard smirked at the thought of that. The voicemail seemed odd when Gerard was doing the calling. He texted one more time asking where he was, said he was worried, he missed him, he was naked, come home, and pocketed his phone.
I pick police officers at random. These days I'm scared to give any real names of bands when mentioning them. It's become cliched for me to quote that Charlie Brown thing in real life.
