Vulnus
Chapter 14: House of Wolves
The moment we've been waiting for! I would love to thank santiyonr91, , BTR Fan, Kirkysaurus, and certainly last, but not least, my recently discovered mental twin: Rhett9! I don't normally ask for reviews, but this is by far the hardest chapter I've worked on in my life, and I would love to hear how I did on it, and what I could do better as an aspiring writer! This was written in October 2011.
"Logan," Kendall suddenly stood up and stared at Logan, "Pull up your sleeves." Logan glanced at Kendall, bewildered. His heart was beating rapidly, as if throwing itself madly against the ribcage imprisoning it. Logan blinked several times, as his hands began to tremble, and his lips began to quiver. His entire body pulsated with anxiety, horror, and shock. It was an abhorrent nightmare unfolding in front of him, but unfortunately, Logan could not close his eyes and dream of a faint light rescuing him. The time for the show to end had arrived, and Logan could no longer contain himself. It was as if part of him was elated over the fact that someone had finally noticed him, but at the same time, his horror was racing through his heart, afraid of the consequences."
Vulnus had mysteriously adopted an eerily silent stance, as if watching the entire situation and deciding what stance to stand by for the impending conflict. Logan continued to see each breath in the room, as time magnificently slowed down. Each blink of an eye lasted hours, and time was trailing along lazily. Then, as if a roller coaster had reached its apex, life began to be moving very fast, and suddenly Logan could feel his entire body shaking in fear and shock, unable to control himself. He felt himself losing control over his thoughts and emotions, and he felt as if he was losing his own life force by simply standing in this room.
James and Carlos suddenly stood up and mounted their gallant steeds, riding them to stand by the King, who stood on his own two proud feet, far stronger than any support the equestrians could receive from their mustangs. The six eyes bore holes into Logan's being, burning him with fiery confrontations and frigid silence. Logan could not handle the dark magic infecting the atmosphere; he was sweating, but becoming numb. He was losing control, but he was sobering. He wanted to cry, but he was impassive. Life was becoming a contradiction, and Logan found himself lost between the tight conflict. He struggled to move, but he found himself implanted to the ground, as if on trial for performing a heinous crime. Logan wanted to escape, and be free and liberated from the terror that awaited him, but the fast beating of his heart indicated that for some dark reason, Logan inwardly wanted to stay and feel the pain and punishment. Logan wanted to become a sadomasochist and scream and throttle his body from the pain he would receive from the trio; from the Trinity of Perfection. Logan wanted to scream, yell, and unleash every emotion he had stored within his small, broken frame to the world, letting the atmosphere reverberate with his anguished, tortured soul.
From his medical studies, Logan knew that psychosis was a severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality. Logan knew that alcohol and certain illegal drugs could prompt an onset of the detachment from reality, and he also could list that brain tumors, brain cysts, Dementia, Alzheimers, degenerative brain diseases, HIV, steroids, stimulants, epilepsy, and strokes were all medical conditions that could generate an onset of the horrific experience. Moreover, Logan had memorized that having bipolar disorder, being maniac or depressed, being delusional, or having any variant of schizophrenia could also provide the necessary chemicals to fuel a psychosis experience. Yet, Logan never realized when it had occurred and when reality and fantasy blurred so much together. Logan blinked, and suddenly he was no longer in the living room of the Garcia household, but instead on a rough patch of soil, his knees mucked with soot and dust.
Logan looked at his surroundings, and began to hyperventilate. He was on his bare knees, dressed in a musky tunic which was decorated in a film of dust, sweat, and grime. His face was no longer clean or pale; it was gray from the insidious amount of toil Logan had undertaken as a serf in this kingdom. The puffiness under his eyes suggested a lack of sleep and hardship, and Logan was afraid to further inspect the smallest crevices of his body.
He was kneeling on the ground, his hands bounded together and situated to his back. There were three figures standing proudly in front of Logan, each riding a mare so decadently decorated and depicted. The first foal that Logan noticed was a tawny brown horse, whose mane was wild and unkempt. It snorted with a hint of chaos and challenge, but its eyes contained a benevolent gaze which was kept on Logan. Its equestrian was a hazy figure, adorned in a silver suit of armor.
Logan turned to his left, and witnessed a horse that put the darkest night to shame; its rich color and depth intoxicated Logan, as he found himself enthralled by the darkness surrounding the mare. Its mane was perfectly braided and touched, without a single hair out of place. The brave horse-rider was a man standing with his back erect and his face impassively beautiful, as if carved from the finest piece of marble and colored with the richest shades of life. The animals skins and furs draped onto this royal figure exuded wealth, and juxtaposed a stark difference between Logan's birthright as a serf, and the rider's birthright as royalty.
Finally, Logan saw the sun itself; its bright radiance touching every corner of Logan's soul, cleansing the darkness from within. Logan could see a dark silhouette exiting his frame, a figure he very much wanted to keep captive within him, but the proudest rider would not see it; the equestrian continued to use his illuminating radiance to pull out the darkness and purge Logan's deformed and deprived body with the nutrients necessary for life. However, due to the pious power exerted by the proudest rider, Logan found an uninvited guest at the union of a serf and three royal members of the royal court of the royal kingdom.
The dark figure held a voluptuous figure, and slender curves, which enthralled Logan's eyes. He saw the appeal and beauty of the dark figure, and desired to reach for it, to caress it and to feel its soft touch upon his own skin. He could feel its own magic radiate around it, a magic foreign and strange to any individual. It was alluring and dark, but mysterious and sexy. It was a rush; a dash of rapidly accelerating excitement. Logan, in the darkness of this figure, could see things he had not dared to dream of: power, wealth, intellect, love, and above all, hope. Hope for a better tomorrow; hope for a pleasant ending. Hope for a happily ever after.
The silent tension was amplified by the steady breathing of the five individuals on this plateau. Logan continued to remain bound against his will, his clothing drab and dismal, while the three royal members of the royal court of the royal kingdom glittered in an exquisite design, a design which envy envied. Then, there was the beautiful dark figurine adjacent to Logan, as if it had always been his shadow. But Logan knew that in the darkest of times, even his shadow left him. He inched away from the dark figure, but at the same time, the acute intensity of the bright light was intoxicating him and hurting him in ways he had not imagined or fathomed possible. It was two extremes; darkness and light. It was night versus day, moon versus sun, Artemis versus Apollo. Both entities held many similarities, but retained various differences. The demigods beside Logan surrounded him in a powerful force, reducing his chance of escape.
It was as if time had finally caught up to Logan, and he could no longer hide his choice anymore. He was now sworn to select the entity to engulf him; did he want the cool comfort of darkness, or the warm soothing of light? Did Logan want the familiar night and its ray of moonlight guiding him along a hopeful path, or did he want a foreign morning, its sunlight coloring every pathway with shadows and light? Would Logan want to rely on the concomitant night, or the reliable morning? Did Logan enjoy the long hours of sunlight, or the short escape of moonlight? Logan could no longer delay his choice; he was walking on a seesaw so fragile that his next breath could deter his stance and therefore alter his life forever.
But was Logan ready to make a choice? He was not of legal age to do many adulterous feats, but he was old enough to make a legal decision. He was old enough to enlist in the local militia, but too young to visit the local pub. Why was suddenly everything an extreme for Logan? Why was life no longer gray, but instead black or white? Logan had instinctively always meddled into the lonely gray hue of life, preferring not to stand out with an exuberant black, or a bright white. However, when he now needed the solemn hue the most, it disappeared, as if it faded away into its own oblivion.
Each breath Logan took was a countdown. It was a countdown for what life held for him. Logan could no longer deter the countdown, or cheat it through holding his breath. He was too debilitated and weakened to perform such a feat, and with the gravitational pulls from the Trinity of Light, and Entity of Darkness, Logan was beginning to feel as if every fiber of his being was being ripped apart, like a thread untwisting from age and use. Logan could tell, from the fact that his heart was pounding violently in his chest and the sensation of his heart racing against the fast current of life, that he was perhaps experiencing an arrhythmia, or an irregularity in the heart's rhythm. He was trying to use logic to defy the logical choice he had to make; light or darkness. It was so obvious, yet so unclear to Logan.
Children were brought up to follow the path of light, and not to deter to darkness. Yet, out of every being that stood by one, the dark shadow was perhaps the most reliable. Moreover, Logan had heard testimony of light being the last sensation one sees before the inevitable demise—that the visible light one sees is snatching them away from life. How could two oblique properties of life be so confusing and interwoven with each other? Was the light at the end of life rescuing one from the impending darkness, or was the darkness struggling to keep one from burning in the crisp light? How was Logan to choose what was correct, or what was wrong, when he could hardly control his own breathing at this moment. What gave him the power to decide what he wanted, and where had this power been all of Logan's life? He was the victim of a plethora of unfortunate circumstances largely due to the absence of his power; the lack of choice Logan held.
Yet, at this moment, where the seductive darkness stood with a knee bent in a folly weakness and where the three embodiments of light stood with an erect figure, suggesting pride, his own power was mocking him. It was laughing his face, giving him the hardest choice of all. Logan could easily decide between life or death on any given occasion, but to decide between the dark, tenebrous, nebulous, and obfuscous crepuscular Princess of Darkness, Vulnus, and the light, resplendent, luminous, scintillant, and vivid lambent King, Duke, and Knight, Logan was lost. He could walk away from the light and enter the darkness that had always accepted him, and hide away for eternity in the cloak of night, or he could walk away from the darkness and enter the foreign light that had always enthralled and attracted him, and become accepted and stronger in the armor of light.
Logan took a deep breath. He was finished being the bounded one in this relationship dynamic. He wanted to accept this new found power of his, and exert it for what he wanted. For what Logan wanted to pursue and follow, and what he wanted to possibly leave behind in an unreachable void. It was the final battle between Princess Vulnus and the Trinity of Perfection, and it was violent through the screeching silence erupting between the two souls.
Logan took a calm breath, as he decided as to what he wanted to do. He was going to make the decision that he believed would held him in his personal endeavors. Logan had made up his mind, and for the first time in his life, Logan was going to be able to reject the help of someone.
"Logan," Kendall suddenly stood up and stared at Logan, "Pull up your sleeves." Logan peered his widened eyes into the green lit exit of the tunnel, and shook his head. Logan's heart continued to speed on an abandoned highway, driving carefree and recklessly.
"I-I think I have to g-go." Logan found himself stuttering slightly, as if in fear of an attack from the side of light. Logan had made his decision to stick by the entity that had always stood by Logan. He was going to honor Princess Vulnus, and defy the King, Duke, and Knight. Logan, taking advantage of the shock registering within the eyes of the trio, rushed to gather his nearby book and paper, and stuffed it messily into his backpack, rubbing it roughly against his green notebook. However, to his dismay, Logan found himself staring at the green notebook. He had forgotten that it existed for a moment; he realized that there was a tertiary power within the situation at hand. There was Princess Vulnus, the Trinity of Light, and the Jade Judge.
The green notebook held all the answers Logan needed. It was a repertoire of each and every emotion Logan had felt throughout the years, and could account for what was the right choice. Perhaps Logan was wrong in his seemingly hasty action to reject the help from the light, but he needed time to confer with the Jade Judge, but time was not standing by Logan. Before Logan could leave the plush sofa, James stood by the left seat, and Carlos by the right seat, and Kendall crossed his arms, glaring Logan down into a sedentary position.
"Logan, I asked you to do something. Are you going to do it or not?" Kendall dared, his voice a low hiss. James and Carlos, who obviously were still confused, continued to blindly but loyally follow the King's direction, taking it as the word of the supreme being. They stood, resolute on their prevention of Logan's escape. Logan darted his eyes from left to right, and inwardly pondered possibilities including jumping over the table, knocking over the King, and escaping through the door. But that thought was quickly murdered as Logan realized he would be running against three athletic male students.
"Logan, Logan! Look at me!" Kendall spoke at a higher intensity, quaking the fragile atmosphere of the room. Instantly, Logan recoiled and winced in fear, a movement seemingly not missed by Kendall, whose own confident features softened.
"Listen, Logan, I just want to see something," Kendall tried to coax Logan, as he leaned closer to Logan, keeping a steady eye contact as if Logan was a canine, holding a precious jewel of Kendall's.
"B-Bathroom! P-Please!" Logan instantly squeaked, as he tried to scoot past James, who initially stood solidly, but relaxed and let Logan run through him. However, Carlos and Kendall came running after Logan, and Carlos instantly screamed:
"Don't use this bathroom! I clogged it with cotton balls! Use the one upstairs!" Carlos yelled into the foyer, as Logan's heart began to beat faster again, thrashing wildly against his solid ribcage. Logan stopped for a moment, and took a deep breath in before slowly ascending up the staircase. As Logan's vision of the lower floor slowly became more and more obscure from the jutting wall, the last color he saw was a hopeful green.
"It would never work," Logan thought silently to himself, as he saw staring at the commode in front of him. His heart was flailing angrily against Logan's body, as if punishing him for entering such a dangerous situation. He was fortunate to see that Carlos's parents had a bathroom with a window facing the lawn adjacent to the road, where Logan could speed back to the school and reach his house—a temporary sanctuary, but nonetheless a reprieve from the current situation in which Logan found himself.
Despite his innate fear of falling and hurting himself, Logan struggled with strength to open the window, and stared downward at the lush bed of grass. He gulped, as he decided against overly jumping onto the grass, and thus decided to shift his body in order to scoot himself off the window and fall onto the grass. He took one longing look at the door, grateful that he had locked it, and closed his eyes as he began his unholy descent to the ground, plummeting as if he was a dead bird hitting the solid ground. Suddenly the lush green seemed to appear like thorns, eager to siphon the blood from Logan.
Yet, Princess Vulnus cast a magical spell toward Logan, prompting all of her kiss marks against his skin to scream in an agonizing pain, irritated through the rushed whips of air. Logan squinted his eyes to prevent the cascade of tears, and thus, upon hitting the lawn, Logan felt more adrenaline than pain, and he was protected from the potentially rough impact. Logan's heart was beating faster, surpassing the normal amount of beats expected from any human being, as he watched the house as if expecting it to chase after him. Logan cursed himself, as he realized his foolish mistake: he had left the Jade Judge in the clutches of the King. Yet, for an eerie reason, he felt as if he could rely on the honor of the trio to not peer into his backpack and scurry through his belongings. Logan gathered his breath, and immediately began to run as fast as his weak legs could carry him, malnourished from his self-imposed fast.
Logan continued to run, not knowing exactly where he was going. He saw red cars, red fire hydrants, red dresses, red lights, red houses, and other objects painted in the adulterous color of red. Vulnus was running beside him, in her graceful silver dress. Logan had fortunately placed her into his pocket, in a special green casing that he had pilfered from a shop years ago. He could feel her breasts move in his pocket, strangely exciting him. He felt as if he was finally a prince, running away with the princess, away from the evil King who threatened their relationship.
However, as Logan continued to run sporadically, with random bursts of energy occurring and slopes deterring him, he inwardly wondered how did the King decipher the clues. While Logan did indeed felt in inclination to inform someone of his relationship, he was unsure as to how Kendall had discovered it, when he had not made a notion of it prior to arriving at Carlos's house.
Logan paused at a red stop sign, catching his breath and wiping his brow clean of the immense pools of perspiration that had accumulated. Logan looked suspiciously to his left and right, trying to ascertain a sense of location. He was near a forested area, and he was alongside a road. There were chipper houses to his right, and then a straight road to his left, completely void of any indication of life. Logan assumed he had ran from the right, and decided to run in the direction of the left, hoping to find a familiar location. He could feel Vulnus running her hands over Logan's body, as if he was as developed and sculpted as the Duke. It goaded Logan with a sense of confidence that he needed, as he continued to jog alongside the road, hoping to find a landmark to orient himself. He continued to look behind himself as he jogged, not wanting to see a familiar vehicle chasing after him. In his mind, he played out several scenarios, in which Logan would tumble into the ditch alongside the road or run into the forest, to avoid the trio. He assumed that they had, by now, discovered his escape.
As Logan ran, Vulnus began to stroke her fingers across Logan's neck, her breath reaching Logan's ear. She began to whisper words into Logan's mind, that immediately ceased his movement, as he caught his breath once more. What if they others didn't care? What if they assumed that chasing Logan would be a burden upon themselves? What if they hoped he got killed in his escape? All of these were possible, and likely, thought processes occurring within the minds of the trio, and it suddenly extinguished the spark that had been born within Logan's soul. Why was he running? The others were not going to search for him; he was not any close confidante that they actually cared about. Logan felt a wet sensation form at the exterior of his eyes, as he tripped over his legs and fell onto the grass ungracefully. Logan did not bother picking himself up, as tears began to fall from his eyes.
He, for a moment, had been convinced that someone in the world had cared for him. He was so gullible that he believed that a human being, with a beating heart, could have actually given a thought for Logan's well-being. He felt assured over the fact that for once, he had the power. But he was wrong. There was never any power in his hand. It was all a lie. The side of light truly never cared for him; they must have been simply finding another weakness to exploit in their kingdom. Bitterly, images flashed in front of Logan of students laughing at Logan, and calling him "emo freak" for his actions. He could feel their mocking laughter and jeering fingers, and began to cry harder. He could not believe that he had been stupid enough to be persuaded that someone in the cruel world was there for him; that he was not alone. Logan punished himself for ever thinking that there could ever be any light for him, when he had evolved into the darkness. It was such a foolish action on Logan's part, and he felt as if he had failed an important Calculus exam by simply believing for a moment that the boys cared for him.
Why would they even care for him? They spent most of their living moments at the kingdom torturing him for unsaid actions, punishing him for unspoken words, and beating him for unclear hatred. There was never any indication that the boys actually cared for Logan, and Logan felt like throwing up every ounce of happiness he had just felt because of the confrontation he had escaped. Logan had made himself belief that his life would become like a fairy-tale; where he would be rescued from the dark tower by a troupe of knights in shining armor, and that they would ride off into the sunset together, with strong friendship and trust binding them together. The prospect of even wishing such a thing made Logan's throat hurt, as he felt his teeth began to ache, as if they were swelling into his gums, despite the impossible probability of that occurring. His entire body began to suddenly ache in a lonesome pain, his muscles throbbing with stinging pain and his eyes drowning in water, his kiss marks with Vulnus screaming. Everything was suddenly hurting, and Logan could not stomach the pain.
Logan watched the ebony hue of Vulnus kiss both of his eyes, as he sunk into the suddenly comfortable bed of grass. His hunger had finally caught up to him, and it had completely drained Logan of any energy. Thoughts of his parents flashed for only a moment, as Logan adopted slumber and fell into a deep lull, as if he had ingested a poisonous apple. Except, there was not one individual standing by Logan as he fell into the darkness.
"I think he's waking up," A hopeful voice sang out, the melodious nature of the modulation wrapping Logan with a warm sensation of comfort and optimism.
"He is? Good, because he looks terrible right now," A beautiful voice called out, its handsome quality reverberating within the room.
"Let me call out to him," A confident voice commanded, its power drawing authority, "Logan, Logan, Logan," The voice drawled out gently, in a soothing manner. Logan blinked several times, as a flood of light reached his eyes. Was Logan in heaven? He was on a comfortable cloud, and he was warm and comfortable. There was an infinite amount of light, and it seemed as if three angels were flying above him, guiding him toward sanctuary.
However, Vulnus awoke with Logan, and instantly began to adjust the contrast of the room, dimming the lights and coloring in the demons on the faces of the angels. Logan gasped, as he immediately scooted away from the trio staring at him worriedly. There were the jade eyes of power, the handsome face of beauty, and the smile of hope, all pressuring Logan into being torn apart from Vulnus.
"You're awake now, good," James whispered, as he got up from his kneeling position and walked past Logan, his footsteps suggesting he had reached the kitchen. Logan felt tears cascading down his throat again, similar to the rush of water running from the sink into the cup that James was filling. Logan felt his throat cracked and hurt, and his eyes continued to flood as James offered him the cup, which he took with trembling hands. For the first time in weeks, Logan saw his bare arms. They were thin from the fast Logan had undertaken to improve his life, and they were colored red from the bright kiss marks from Princess Vulnus.
Logan instinctively reached for a sleeve to pull down, but found none. He was dressed in a light gray shirt, that was obviously not his. Logan looked alarmed, and instantly dropped his glass of water, immediately croaking an apology afterward. He then looked past the intimidating glance of the King and into the gentle smile of the Knight for answers.
"We found you on the road, knocked out," Carlos quickly explained, as he rubbed his hands on his jeans in what seemed like nervousness, "and we picked you up only to discover that you had thrown up blood all over yourself. We were afraid to call the police, and took you back here, and James changed you into some of my Papi's clothing," Carlos offered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Logan coughed slightly, as he digested all of this new-found information. Logan looked alarmed, as he saw the time. It was 12:30 in the morning, and the project that Logan had not finished was due in seven hours! Questions filled Logan's mind, as he wondered about his parents, and his homework, and everything else. There were scattered bug bits across Logan's arm, but he was more concerned over the exposing of his rubies.
"We called your parents, saying that you were busy but you wanted to let them know that you were finishing a project with us. Your mom seemed okay with it," James nodded, as Logan's eyes darted from left to right, as if expecting this entire scenario to fall apart and for a horrible nightmare to emerge.
"Moreover, you basically finished your project, but Carlos and I typed up your portion and we'll be presenting tomorrow," James offered again, as Carlos gave a bright smile as well, all the while Kendall maintained his impassive glower.
"We also could hear your stomach growling like crazy, and somehow Carlos managed to force-feed you some cut-up corn-dogs, since that's all he had in his freezer," James continued his tirade, as Logan's eyes widened in an alarmed silence. He instinctively placed his finger near his lips, before noticing the watchful eyes of the trio sitting beside him.
"...You threw up after eating it, just to let you know," Carlos added blandly, as he winced in a memory that seemed to revolve around him cleaning up the slaughtered pieces of meat. Logan took another deep breath, as he looked downward at his love-marks, and began to tear up once again. Princess Vulnus was sitting on her throne, watching Logan with unrealistic expectations. Her beautiful celestial body was suddenly becoming more and more demanding, as she wanted Logan to allow the others to engage in voyeurism, watching herself and Logan make love, but Logan was too humble. He would not show his darkness to anyone.
There was only one syllable that Logan could croak, and it was strangely a unique syllable, as it constituted an alphanumeric symbol as well:
"Why?"
Suddenly, the room exploded into a casting of spells from the Duke and Vulnus, as Vulnus began to screech eerily into Logan's head, as if punishing him for even enticing the other side with that question. The Duke, the most experienced in magic of the trio, instantly began to use the classical element of water as a balance against the fiery explosion of the King, all the while a stable current of air from the Knight kept the room in check.
"You asked us why we helped you?" Kendall roared, resembling a lion with his blonde hair and fierce eyes, as James began to mumble under his breath, a slight trail of tears streaming down his handsome face. Carlos watched the entire situation with sympathy, as he also tried to hold off the vicious clutches of Vulnus.
"Kendall, shut up! Look how scared he is!" James began to sob, as he ran a chaotic hand through his perfect strands of hair, ruffling them. James placed his elbows on his knees, as he placed his hands into his face and began to sob quietly. Kendall's nostrils flared, as he stared at Logan incredulously.
"Scared?" Kendall roared incoherently, as he held no significance to the word, as if he only uttered the main syllable of James's tirade. James nodded, and looked up at Kendall, his eyes moist.
"We fucking screwed up man, we're fucking psychos. He's going to call the fucking cops, and everything will fucking go down the fucking drain," James began to chant as if possessed by an evil and malicious spirit. Carlos instantly ran to James's side, to hold him as he bit down his knuckles to keep from emitting a scream. Logan, who continued to cry silently, stared at the entire spectacle with confusion. Why were the boys so worried about themselves? It was almost a selfish light from Vulnus being cast upon them...
"No, it will not. He's not going to call any cops, and we did nothing wrong James, don't worry," Carlos tried to coax James into relaxing, although it seemed to fail. James continued to look nervous, as if expecting the police to bust in through the doors at any moment. Logan squinted again, especially at the four words Carlos uttered.
"We did nothing wrong." Logan sang in his mind, as he stared at the trio. Suddenly, perfect could no longer describe them. Logan saw anger, sadness, and confusion mixing in cohesively into this portrait of perfection. Kendall was frustrated, while James was devastated, and Carlos was simply unsure of what to do.
"Liar," Logan croaked against his better judgment, as suddenly the six pairs of eyes glanced at Logan, prompting him to elaborate. Logan, however, stayed silent. He would not honor them with an explanation. Who was he to once again be enticed by the false hope that they would rescue him from his plight? They seemed to be nervous about themselves, and perhaps being accused of horrible crimes.
"We're the liars? Logan, look at yourself!" Kendall suddenly took the throne, and began his announcement. "You lie to everyone, telling them you're alright. You say you're fine, but you're not Logan, you're not," Kendall dropped his voice an octave lower, as he ran a hand through his hair, and decided on pinching the bridge of his nose to hold in his emotions. He peered at Logan once more, as James and Carlos watched Kendall as if he was an elder brother to them.
"Why do you do this to yourself Logan?" Kendall whispered, choking back tears as he suddenly dropped to his knees and held Logan's left hand, much to the other boy's discomfort. Logan tried to squirm out of the grip, but he found himself unable to move much of his body. He watched Kendall stare at all the scars, and slowly bring his finger across each one of them, as if attempting to heal them. It then hit Logan; he had just referred to his love-marks from Princess Vulnus as scars; marks left on the skin or within body tissue where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed quite completely and fibrous connective tissue has developed.
"P-Please stop," Logan pleaded, as he tried to squirm out of the grip. Kendall's eyes glistened with sorrow and regret and remorse as he attempted to mentally count the scars, but found himself unable to perform such a seemingly simple task.
"Logan...why?" Kendall asked, staring into Logan's eyes. His green eyes seemed to be portal, away from the Kingdom of Princess Vulnus, and to the Kingdom of Reprieve. It was as if there was an escape from the war.
"You must be joking," Logan quietly scoffed, as his voice was unnaturally rough because of his sore throat. "You must be fucking kidding." Logan coughed, as tears began to flow faster down his fact. Kendall slowly released the grip on Logan's wrist, and the trio stared at Logan, as if he was teaching them.
"You all," Logan coughed again, "You all caused this!" Logan yelled, despite the pain imminent in his throat. It hurt to yell so much, and it hurt to over-exaggerate, but to an extent, it was true. The trio deserved the flicker of pain that was directed toward them. It was Logan's turn to inflict pain.
"W-What?" James whispered, although he knew the answer already. How could he not? Logan surmised that the boys had done so much to him, that perhaps they were undergoing a psychological reaction that pathological liars often underwent when being accused of lying. However, before Logan could say anything again, he saw a flash of green eyes before his body fell back into sleep, due to exhaustion.
The twilight of the early morning whispered into Logan's eyes, as he found himself awoken once again. This time, the red letters of the lock quietly alerted Logan that it was a modest four in the morning, and he was not waking up from a nightmare; he was still living in one. However, to his surprise, there was a small light in the room, and—
"No!" Logan yelled as loud as he could, as he noticed the beaten green notebook in the hands of the green-eyed king. The pages were pried open, and the trio were forcing themselves into the forcibly exposed Judge, corrupting its pious nature with their eyes.
The trio immediately dropped the book, obviously on their last few pages, and immediately rescinded from the kitchen to head over to the family room, where Logan was mustering strength to throw off the blanket and reach the trio. However, to his horror, the trio stared at him without any words.
"Logan," James began, but stayed silent, as if he was too ashamed to say anything. His eyes could not meet Logan's eyes, despite the handsome face painted onto the boy. Carlos also mumbled something, but there were no coherent words being spoken. Kendall, however, had puffy red eyes and had been sobbing for a long period of time.
"We don't deserve anything but all the pain we have given you," Kendall announced, as Logan stared at him with widened eyes, "But please believe us when we say we never realized all the pain we put you through. We never realized that we were the reason you were so..." Kendall trailed off, unsure of what to say. Logan found himself amused by the debilitated state of the trio.
"I was so inept at everything? The reason I was so weird? The reason I fucking cut myself with a razor at every given opportunity?" Logan yelled, grateful that the house was clear to the four of them—or five, considering the obvious presence of Princess Vulnus.
"Logan, believe us—" Kendall tried to plead, but Logan shook his head. The rest had given Logan time to ponder things subconsciously, and he realized that none of the boys were worthy of forgiveness. It had been a stark fairytale for Logan to see that he was right; that he did deserve better, but he knew these tears were nothing above sympathy. The boys must have not wanted Logan to report them, or not vote for them for Prom King or something along those lines. There was a catch, and Logan was sure of it.
However, a part of Logan did want to end the war and tell the boys that they were forgiven, so his fantasy of the four of them becoming friends could occur, but he did not want to appear weak. He did not want to base any relationship with them off of pity. It would not work.
"Kendall," Logan breathed, "James, and Carlos," Logan took another deep breath in and out as he stared at each boy, "if you all really understood my thoughts, you would know that none of you are even worthy of being believed." Logan whispered, as his voice became dangerously low again. He was tired, elated, anxious, angry, to say the least.
"We didn't want to hurt you this much! We just..." Kendall could not surmise an answer, and neither could Carlos or James. Logan wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much too. He had finally knocked the King, Knight, and Duke down from their high pedestals, and it felt good to see them groveling. He inwardly wanted to forgive them, but he truly wanted to make them suffer like he had suffered for so long.
"Why did you make my every moment at school a living hell?" Logan suddenly asked, his voice a rough mix of tears and anguish. Logan could no longer hide his tears,and the rush of water from his body seemed to initiate waterworks from the other three boys.
"L-Logan, we di-didn't know we hurt you this much!" James pleaded, but Logan shook his head, continuing to sob. It was dark within the room, and the source of light was slowly dimming.
"How could you go from hurting me to the brink of blood one moment, and then defending me against the girls?" Logan asked, as he delivered another blow to the other boys who looked away. They had no answers—no one did. It scared Logan as to how dark and morose this entire situation was. The bullies had no idea why they were bullies, therefore leaving the victim no reason to console himself.
"And d-don't tell me that you were j-jealous of me, because we all know you all have better grades than I do," Logan stuttered again, as nervousness began to spread across his body. He was handling himself so well until now, but he could not handle the fact that the moment he had been waiting for so long had finally arrived.
"The truth is, Logan," Kendall suddenly spoke up, as James and Carlos glanced at Kendall with peering eyes and dreadful gasps, "you were our punching bag. It was sick, and wrong, but it's the cold truth." Kendall spoke with the intonation of an epiphany, as if he was finally acknowledging and analyzing his actions. Logan squinted to hide his impending tears, and pursed his lips to hide the squeak from his mouth. He wanted to scream and yell at them, asking why they would even brand Logan with that unfortunate fate.
"You were," James looked away, unsure of how to say it, but he mustered all of his built-up confidence. "the easiest. You weren't attractive, you were shy, you were quiet, you were weird—you had no one to help you, and you were easy to relieve our stress." James confessed with tears, as he looked away in shame.
"We know we've been horrible Logan, but—" Carlos tried to start something, but Logan shook his head. He could not handle it. He could not handle to hear one more pleading from the trio. Logan hated complimenting himself, but for all the heinous crimes they committed, they were not worthy of anything; and yet, they shamelessly confessed that they relieved their stress onto Logan?
"School starts in a few hours, we should get ready. I'm walking." Logan spoke silently, as he grabbed his journal from the table and stuffed it into his nearby backpack. He waited, for a moment, to hear a sliver of hope cascade into his ears, and hear Kendall shout for Logan to stop and to hear them out and to let them offer a ride, but it was all a farce. Everything about this fake perfection about the boys was a farce. Including their obvious lie.
Logan knew it wasn't as clear-cut as they were saying. To their credit, he was weak, defenseless, and alone, but there was more to it then relieving stress. Each boy had a compelling factor that linked the together to hurting others, and that unfortunate victim was Logan. Whether he wanted to or not, Logan knew he had to find out before he graduated as to what drove each boy to torture Logan as much as they did—what drove the King, the Duke, and the Knight to inflict so much pain onto a serf of their own kingdom?
Logan had chosen the side of darkness, and as the Herald of Princess Vulnus, he would fight against the trio, all the while remaining true to his own innate values. Logan made his mission to never befriend the trio while Princess Vulnus was alive, and to discover what made each boy victimize Logan.
Suicide was no longer an option, for Logan had something to live for now. He had to detect the source of stress for each boy and link together why he was the target for them.
Logan Mitchell, the newly knighted Herald of Darkness for Princess Vulnus, had a mission that he was not going to fail, even if his life depended on it.
This is nowhere near the ending of Vulnus, but technically it's the ending of the first half of the story or I guess the 'first season' if we want to think of it like that. However, I should warn you that the next 'season' is considerably darker, or at least I think it is. I really hope you guys enjoyed the story so far, and I would like to thank everyone who has left reviews so far! You guys are the best, and I really hope this story continues to meet your expectations!