Haha. Mah darling NeroAnne noticed the pattern I'm using, the parents aren't cool, huh? XD. That actually means something. I suck at mysteries but I got a really awesome idea while watching Season 2 of SPN in these short few days I've been sick in. XP!
11 – Right & Wrong
Mr Brooks' eyes are now trailing up and down Phil's body once more as the man turns around, a smirk settling on his face as he pulls out a black device from his pocket, pressing it towards his ear, 'Hardy? You in there?"
"Yes, idiot."
Phil's eyes snap open, his eyes staring at his father, listening into the conversation that's happening between the two adults.
"How are the bodies?"
"Underground. The sewers."
"What about those demons?"
'Demons?' Phil's eyes widen even more and he tries as hard not to even pull a breath, knowing that they may listen.
"Still… fucking bitches won't leave us alone."
"They say that's unfair that we're taking over their jobs. Ha. Pathetic things, really. And by the way, that Matt child—we need to take him out, for good."
"Nah, something else is happening to the bitch. Throws up blood, woke up with a half blooded face and a bloodied wall with his blood… if this thing doesn't kill him, then we don't know what will."
"Great, it's taken care of."
"Yeah, sure. What about that Phil slut, you took care of him?"
"Yeah. I raped him."
"Great. You look at the bodies there and cremate them and I'll do the same here, okay?"
"Done."
The man moves and Phil moves, his ass aching as he remembers how the knife feels, pushing into his hole, he bites down his lower lip as he takes a phone that's on the floor and slowly dials numbers, pressing the phone to his ear, 'hello…?"
Matt holds onto Jeff's body, his hand running up and down Jeff's back, his lips trailing alongside Jeff's neck, flesh on flesh.
"Sorry to interrupt your lovemaking-"
"We aren't do anything, bitch." Matt says, kissing Jeff's neck, planting soft butterfly kisses all over as he turns to face Chris, grinning at him softly, staring up and down his body as Chris pulls out Jeff's ringing cell from his pocket and hands it over to him.
Jeff takes the phone from him, giggling at Matt's touches before pressing it towards his ear, 'hello?"
"Jeff! Jeff!"
"Phil?"
"I need to talk to you."
"Where are you?"
"I'm…I was with Randy and John but now, I'm upstairs of the house…and-and I'm bleeding…so much blood…I deserve it…"
"Phil, talk to me."
Jeff's eyes widen at the thought of Phil bashing himself so strongly when he's so weak and he looks at Matt for a moment before turning around and standing up, his body straight and his stomach sloshing as the thoughts battle through his head. "Phil? Where are you?"
"I'm at Canada…just not at Toronto… J-J-Jeff…I'll tell you the details later…j-j-just check the underground sewers…they said that there was something there…something about bodies. Your Dad and mine said something…about bodies…underground…"
"Phil…"
"I…I'm dizzy…"
"Phil?"
Dial tone.
"Phil?!"
Still, the buzzing ring burns into Jeff's ear as he slams the phone towards the table, looking at Matt and trying to fake a smile, knowing that taking Matt along with him is too dangerous, 'everything's fine. Phil just hung up on me so I got a little testy…um…Matt, I'll go talk to Mike for a second, alright?"
"Old friends catching up?" Matt has a hint of suspension in his eyes but won't say it too bluntly and Jeff nods his head as he moves towards Mike and holds onto his arm, looking at Mike and whispering a few words into his ear, leaving John Morrison and Chris Jericho alone with Matt into the room without the younger children around.
Mike pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up and smoking, Jeff staring at him before scrunching up his nose, 'since when did you start smoking?"
"When you left, I just turned to smoking I guess. I had nothing, remember, Jeff? You were my only friend and when I was alone…I needed some sort of painkiller but I'm too lazy to make a fake ID and it had too many risks…my Mother used to smoke when she's in trouble…well, like mother, like son."
"John says you smoke a lot."
"I'm under a lot of pressure."
"Before we head to the sewers, do you want me to go take you to your Dad's grave? We haven't done that for a while…I can look at my Mom's too…"
Mike nods his head, a soft smile crossing his distressed face. "Yeah, yeah, I'd like that, Jeff."
_
Zach Mizanin.
Mike doesn't bother reading anything else, just staring at the name carved in the thick, cold stone, so bold, ready to attack him and Mike leans down towards it, slumping down, sadness plastering against his face, 'hello, Daddy…remember me? I used to be two feet tall and you used to just hold me and look at me, your little Mike? You always told me that I was safe…I'm not safe now…look at me…I'm all full of blood and fear and…no one catches me…why do I always climb up the ladder and fall down, crack my head? Why doesn't anyone care about me?"
Mike sits down onto the floor, tears threatening to slide off his face, 'I remember you holding me, saying that I was safe right before you died…you tucked me into bed, read me a story…read me a fairytale…I can still remember the words…Peter Pan…and they all lived happily ever after, didn't they? Why can't I have one, Daddy? I don't want this! I want to live in a real family, not with Evan or Mom or anyone else…maybe just me and you are a family…why doesn't anyone care about me…?"
His body shakes, his eyes staring at the cold, thick stone. "Once upon a time there was a boy named Peter Pan, who decided not to grow up…" Mike rocks, back and forth, his eyes staring down at the floor. "I don't wanna grow up! I don't wanna die! I don't want any of this! I wanna be safe…keep me safe, Daddy…you kept me safe…"
Mike's tears burn down his cheeks.
"You kept me so safe…"
A sob.
"Blanket of love…protecting m-m-me…"
Sobs escape.
"I lost that blanket a long time ago."
Ruby Hardy.
Jeff leaned down towards the grave that he memorized where was, he simply ran his fingers through the soil, feeling the hard casket underneath. "You know, Matt thinks that he's going to end up here soon…with you…he misses you a lot and I do, too…we're scared…I'm dead, he's dying…the world's painted in black…and I want to breathe. I want to see things that I couldn't see…"
Jeff's eyeballs look all around the graveyard before back at his mother's grave.
"I always wanted to be an artist…you know that, didn't you? I'd bring you pictures when I was young…Matt is a good mother and I think he thinks that he raised me wrong—I know it's not his fault that I'm so fucked up, Mom. I know it's all my fault…and he's blaming himself…and…"
Silence roams.
"Why can't we just be a normal happy family?"
Silence burns.
"Does happiness even exist anymore?"
Even more silence.
"Yeah, it doesn't…"
Jeff wakes through the sewers and at that, Mike pulls out another cigarette, making Jeff roll his eyes, 'how many of those do you have a day?"
"Three packs," Mike grins, as he moves towards the sewers, the damp water around both of their cuffed jeans and their soggy shoes are giving them a hard time in moving around and the scent is mind boggling and just as Jeff realizes that there's a dry path, he follows it alongside with Mike, both of them looking around, peering to find things that shouldn't be there.
Jeff gasps as he realizes what's there, his torch falling and Mike's face pales.
"Dad?"
Mr Brooks stares at his masterpiece.
Gasoline and pitchers of alcohol all around and he pulls out a cigarette, quickly flaming up the place and staring at Phil who lies onto the floor as he tries to get up, 'RUN!" Phil exclaims as he tries to stand up, feeling his ass burn but he tries not to pay any attention to the pain as he climbs down the flight of stairs, 'FIRE! FIRE!"
In seconds, all of them are moving out.
The insane, sadistic Mr Brooks stays inside to watch the flames ignite towards his skin, smirking to himself. "That's a lovely little fire, no?" The insanity burns into his eyes as the flames ignite through the walls, Phil stares upward as the ceilings burn and he's being pulled out by Randy and John.
"Come on! Let's get the fuck out of here!"
Everything in that house, from unpacked memories to already hung up picture frames—gone.
Jeff bows his head down, looking at the face, with the dust, it's his father staring at him. "Jeffery, get me out of here, 'the man begs, his voice soothing and softening, unlike the dark voice that had been stuck in his head and Jeff slowly helps him out of the thick ropes that are around his hands, finding the key to the shackles around his ankles. "Dad? I just don't understand."
"Ever heard of shape shifters?"
Jeff's eyes widen, the greenness of them increases in the soft light around them, vivid eyes stare, 'those really exist?"
"Sure as hell they exist, 'Gilbert nods his head, 'look at me, Jeffery, those things are made of pure evil and they take over our position, as parents. You know what I mean, Jeff? They're making us look like the bad people…nobody really believes it when a child goes around calling for help because a man had beat him because they think you're absolutely childish. That's the type of law we have around here, unless you're over 21, you're just a 'punk'."
"And why are these shape shifters here?" Mike asks, his eyes wide and his mind unable to process what the elder man has just said.
"They had been rebelling against Hell. Jeff, you have Chris as your friend, one of your close ones, Amelia has always cursed anyone, she cursed Chris, Chris befriended you, it goes along as a chain…that strengthens the reason they got it for you and Matt but the real reason is because Ruby hated Matt when she was pregnant with him."
"That's true?" Jeff asks, struck in awe.
"Yeah, it is. She was battling a lot of demons, literally, those things just see the people that are most vulnerable and hurt them in ways they can't imagine—and she overcame them. That's the main reason why they have it out for Matt and you, mostly Matt though for some stupid reason, something about him being more able to submit to darkness…"
"Matt…" Jeff frowns, his eyes threatening to hold back tears, 'Matt would probably want to see you."
"Is something wrong with him?"
"He's in the hospital."
Gilbert's eyes widen. "W-what?"
"He's hurt bad. Follow me out."
Jeff and Mike move away towards the exit and the man that hasn't seen real sunlight in around seven years follows them, all exiting and in the darkness and shadows, two vivid ruby red eyes watch, the shape shifter watches as he sheds off his skin, smirking—they won't know…he could be anyone right now.
When Matt sees the man that had supposedly died, his entire face stays emotionless, the Doctor had once told Matt and Jeff that that's normal in signs of schizophrenia, but in truth, Matt's heart had been banging so hard as Gilbert explains it all to Matt, before cupping Matt's cheek, 'are you okay?"
Matt shakes his head, tears cascading down his cheeks, 'I-I-I'm sick."
"Shh…you can tell me everything later, but now, you have to rest, okay? I'm going to go talk to your brother, 'the man says, kissing the top of Matt's sweaty forehead before moving towards Jeff, peering back just to see Matt cowering, shaking in fear, his lower lip quivering as the bloodied side of his face gleams in the sunlight. "Jeff, how did half of his face get ripped off like that?"
"We don't know. We also find signs of nicotine in his bloodstream but Matt swears he'd never smoked in his life." Jeff points towards Mike who's talking to John Morrison and softly pecking his lips every few moments, his cigarette pack gleaming and shining in his back pocket, 'now that guy's a chimney."
Gilbert chuckles. "May I make a suggestion?"
Jeff raises his eyebrow. "I'm listening."
"Put a camera and see who's doing this to Matthew."
Jeff grins that morning as he walks towards Matt's white table, taking the tape from the table and shutting it, before walking towards Gilbert and looks back at Matt, realizing that Matt's arms are carved with the words 'worthless' and 'abused' in both of his frail arms and Jeff sits down in a scolded, dark room with Gilbert, putting the tape in and watching…
A gasp escapes their lips.
In the tape, a sleeping Matt stands up and walks towards a drawer, pulling out a scalpel as he runs the thin tip of it through his flesh to write the bloody words before slipping back into bed…
I lost my charisma. XD!
Review??
X Sam.