=-Sorry for having taken forever to write a new chapter. My inspiration ran dry, and RL issues got in the way.-= -
Life with Johnny had gone surprisingly well over the course of a month. They had fallen into a sort of pattern. Edgar cleaning the house every day,leaving the basement alone, and Johnny relying an Edgar for food and to keep him awake. This left Edgar time to sleep during the days. All in all, their life together so far wasn't too bad until one day, Edgar broke.
He just sat in the freshly cleaned bathroom, tears streaming down his face. Great heaving sobs racked his body in painful spasms as his throat burned from the sudden scream that crawled angrily out from his vocals and into a startlingly unsympathetic room. The lanky male with chestnut hair crumpled in on himself and bellowed again and again until his voice cracked with too much pain for him to do more than whimper. His life was something he had no control over. He could leave, he knew he could, but he could not leave He knew he couldn't. "I'm living with a serial killer, cleaning his house, burying his bodies, cooking his food, I even sleep in his bed!" His mind reeled in agony with all the realizations of his current life. "And I was happy like this? What's wrong with me! I have to get out of here, but what if I really can't leave? He's a murderer, he's certainly not above lying to one victim, right?" His mind was trying to come to a decision he couldn't really make. "Was I happy?" He voice whispered out, barely, as he started to sit up, no longer sobbing, and not yelling again any time soon. "I think I was." His lips pantomimed as he thought to himself.
Edgar Varges, a regular, if remarkably invisible, person, had been happy in the house of someone who killed people. Someone who had almost killed him! His brown eyes widened in a quiet horror as it all dawned on him. Some part of his mind spoke out. "He didn't though, he patched you up, left you somewhere where you were at least moderately safe." He thought again. "And you came back." He paused, letting the silent room seep into his body and mind. After a long while he got up. "What kind of person returns to their potential murderer?" He asked aloud as he went to get a drink of water. Another sigh left his lips. "I guess I could just sleep. Johnny will be down there for at least another hour. I think he's making a new machine." His mind continued after a time. He walked to the room that had been Johnny's, but was now his, if only because it held his cloths, and what was considered his bed. Edgar let his body collapse onto the surprisingly comfortable sleeping space, not even nestling under the blankets as he usually did. He craved company right now, but knew there would be none. Not even Johnny, the only man who regularly remembered he even existed, would provide any sort of comforting human contact.
Edgar felt utterly lonely. Curled up tightly on the large bed, he started crying again, soft,methodical sort of sobs that left him feeling emptier and emptier. After a while the brunette had just cried himself to sleep. An hour passed and Edgar was shivering in his sleep by the time Johnny came to the room to get something. He took notice of his housemate, and covered him with a blanket. In a moment of rare compassion he silently hoped that the other would feel better. Once the black haired male left the room he instantly went back to contemplating the best way to find his next victim, and what new toy to use on them.
- =- to make up for the absence, I wrote a long chapter-=