Meh...high school is tiring. Lol. Thank you for your reviews. I have a shout-out today...
Cocolada: That's awesome about your fanfiction! I'll be the first one to read it! :) (not to sound, like, creepy or anything...lol). Yeah that's how I pictured Roger too. I think I know the fanart that you're talking about, because the one that I based Roger off of is depicted with red eyes as well. Y'know, it really suits him. It's a fitting look. Thanks for your reviews :)
Yay shout-outs make me happy :) Okay, this chapter includes some moderately disturbing and suggestive themes (ooooooooohhhhhhhhh winky face) wut. I don't know. I don't know what I'm on about half the time. I'm just...I'm just...*sighs*...
I don't own any of this. None of it...well, besides the plot and the OC's...but other than that, I don't own any of it. Nada.
Without further adieu, I present the next chapter for Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night! :)
MAURICE AWOKE TO FIND HIMSELF TIED UP in a musty smelling shed. His stomach hurt something awful, and his head throbbed from where someone had hit him. He tasted the blood that trickled down from his busted lip, and suddenly, he was vaguely aware that he knew where he was. Yes, this was the place that Jack and Roger had settled on bringing Ralph when the time came to kill him. So did that mean that...that...that...
Maurice jumped when he saw Bill and Tyler, a beefy, broad boy, emerge from the darkness and walk towards him. He was even more surprised when he saw grins plastered upon their youthful faces.
"Hey, Maur!" Bill exclaimed, sitting on a stool opposite to Tyler. Maurice was appalled.
"What the fuck, Bill?"
"Sorry about that whole jump and attack thing - Chief thought it was necessary." Bill actually looked sincere, but still, his eyes flickered with a catty light. Tyler grinned from beside him.
"Sup, Maur?" he asked, glancing at Bill and sharing a joint laugh.
Maurice wanted to cry. "Why...why am I here?"
"Chief ordered it," Tyler replied, cracking his knuckles. He saw Maurice's look of worry and continued. "I don't know what he wanted you for..."
"He's not gonna do you in, Maur," Bill said, interrupting his friend and staring lazily at the tied up boy. "He just needed your...hmm...cooperation with something."
"What does he want me to cooperate with?" Maurice's blood had turned ice cold and it felt as thought his heart had frozen. Something about the way Bill kept giving a wicked smile told Maurice that whatever Jack had called, it wasn't good.
"He'll be here soon," Tyler assured Maurice, clenching his hand into a fist. "But in the mean time, we're here to make sure you behave."
"Don't worry, Maurice," Bill continued, grinning again. "We left your family a sticky-note on the front door."
JOSHUA STARED AT THE NOTE IN his hands, trying his best to hide his emotions from his family. Late last night after it had taken forever for Maurice to take out the trash, Joshua had reluctantly walked outside to make sure everything was alright. What he found displeased him: no Maurice, and a note on the door explaining his absence. It read as followed:
Dear family,
I've gone to Jack's house for the night. Just need some space and some time to think. Be back tomorrow.
The note might've fooled Joshua's family, but it hardly fooled him. Not wanting to cause an upheaval at home, Joshua simply told his family what the note said, then had gone straight up to his room to think about it. Unlike his family, Joshua knew that Maurice hadn't just up and left for Jack's house, and that most likely, he wouldn't be coming home. Unless, of course, Joshua could help it.
He studied the handwriting of the note. It certainly didn't belong to Maurice, but it definitely was a boy's penmanship. It looked too messy to be Roger's, who seemed like the kind of freak that had perfect writing. It was too rushed to be Jack's, who also struck Joshua as a bit of a perfectionist. That meant that there was someone else working with the two. Joshua, however, barely had any time to find out, and following the note's instructions, he headed into his car and made his way to Jack's house, hoping to retrieve his brother.
When he arrived, he was greeted by a small girl of maybe five or six. She was covered in bandages and nasty bruises. Still, her expression was bright, and with a small frown, she looked up at Joshua.
"Yes?"
"I'm here for Jack. I think my brother Maurice crashed here last night."
The little girl shook her head. "None of Jack's friends slept over last night, and besides - Jack just left."
Joshua raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Where to?"
"Darlington Park, I think."
Without another word, Joshua jumped right back in his car and drove towards Darlington Park.
Joshua pulled into the parking lot of the park with ease - there were literally no other cars, and the park was practically deserted. Somewhat hesitantly, Joshua hopped out of the car and stared out into the silent horizon. He hadn't been to the park in ages, not since Maurice was still in elementary school. Those had been fun times, the best of times, really, when being a big brother was the best thing in the entire world. Now it seemed like a headache to always worry about Maurice's wellbeing, especially that it his best friends were bloodthirsty murderers. At the thought, Joshua realized that he was only armed with his cell phone, just in case this turned to be a ploy against him. A dark feeling beneath his heart roared at this assumption, but Joshua ignored it and pressed forward, walking over the dry pine needles and brown leaves.
He followed the trail past the lake and into the woods, watching closely for any human movements. But he found nothing; the place was as barren as the parking lot. it didn't ease his spirits.
It was a good twenty minutes before he finally stumbled upon some kid leaning casually up against a tree, his Nike sneakers scathed by dirt and mud. He looked maybe thirteen years old. Joshua didn't recognize him as either Jack or Roger, so he wasn't sure what to expect.
Carefully, he called over to the kid. "Hey!"
The kid glanced over as his light brown curls fell into his forehead.
Joshua continued. "Yo, can I have a word?"
The kid, although aggravated, stumbled over to Joshua. When they finally met, Joshua realized that kid was a good few inches taller than he had initially thought..older too, maybe fifteen. He was okay looking for the most part, save one nasty cut across his cheek.
Joshua frowned. "Whacha doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"I could ask the same for you."
Their eyes were at a deadlock before Joshua continued. "What's your name?"
"Christopher." Christopher glared. "And yours?"
"Joshua."
"Oh."
"Where'd you get that cut from?" Joshua asked, gesturing to the cut on Christopher's cheek.
The boy grinned. "I fell."
"You fell?"
"Down the hill."
"You never answered my first question."
"Either did you."
They were stuck there for a moment, neither one prepared to move, although they both sensed the tension that was thick in the air. Joshua couldn't be sure if Christopher was part of Jack's gang, but from the snide way he held his freckled head in the air, Joshua assumed he was.
Getting straight to the point, Joshua asked, "I'm looking for my brother."
"Maurice?"
Joshua frowned. "How'd you know?"
"I'm pretty smart," Christopher said before kneeing Joshua in the balls and calling over his shoulder, "Lucas! Will! I got 'im! Come 'ere!"
Joshua had buckled over in pain, and through watery eyes, he could make out two figures heading towards him, carrying what looked like to be sticks. When they approached him, they each delivered several crippling punches to his face before they each grabbed hold of a limb and lugged his beaten body over to their 'headquarters'.
JACK WAS GROWING TO LOVE pain. It came in all shapes and sizes, but each time, it granted him a higher elation than the last. Take Maurice, for example. The way he squirmed and writhed to try and escape from the ropes that kept him bound in the shed. It was humorous to watch how utterly helpless he looked, and even more amusing when Bill and Tyler would methodically hit him on the back with a bloodied spear, forcing one more cry, one more shriek to elate Jack's ecstasy. But the best was yet to come, and finally, it did, when Christopher burst through the door, Lucas and Will trailing behind him with the very conscious body of Joshua.
"We got him," Christopher cheered, slamming the door shut behind his friends.
"He came just as you said...oh, hey Maurice."
Maurice glared through swollen green eyes, watching in pain as the boys threw his brother down. He glanced at Jack and growled, "Jack!"
Jack grinned.
"I know, I know what I said, about leaving Joshua alone. But face it, Maur, he's a loose canon. He might open up and spill everything in second. We can't have him roaming around alive. Plus, I promised Roger I'd let him kill something soon, and I'd rather let him murder Joshua than one of our tribe mates, savvy?"
From behind Jack, Roger sat in a wooden chair, playfully pricking his finger at the very tip of a knife. To Maurice's dismay, Roger was grinning.
"No," Maurice pleaded, forcing himself to sit up. "Jack...no...Roger can kill me. I don't care...he doesn't have to kill Joshua...kill me instead."
"We can't," Roger said, shaking his head. "We need you for Ralph. Trust me, if we didn't, you'd be dying with Joshua today."
Tears began to flood Maurice's eyes as he helplessly begged.
"Please, please don't! Just..Jack...you can't..."
"I can," Jack sneered, walking towards Joshua. "And I will."
"Jack...you don't get it...Jack, stop, damn you!"
But the boys had already started in, beating and ripping at Joshua's flesh. The knives and spears weren't used at this point; only the bare claws of their fingers and edges of their teeth. They ravaged the boy until he screamed out and blood poured out of his wounds. Maurice sat there helplessly crying, loathing himself more and more by the minute. He hated them. All of them. And he hated that on the island, the same beast that possessed them now had also captured him. But now...he felt like dying. He wished he would die.
The boys parted from their bloodied victim, their clothes stained and splattered with fresh blood. They all looked wild, each and every one of them. Joshua was not yet dead; he still moaned in agony on the floor. Roger looked ready to do him in when a timid knock came at the door. The boys froze, and Maurice cried out.
"Help!" He shrieked. "Whoever's out there, please help! I'm trapped in here-"
The door opened, and Samneric walked through, Amy trailing reluctantly behind them. They looked shocked at the sight in front of them, gazing with wide eyes at Maurice and then the beaten boy who lay groaning on the floor. Hesitantly, they stared back at their ravenous chief and gulped.
"Jack," Sam began, instinctively pushing Amy so that she was behind him.
Eric continued. "We didn't know..."
"...We thought you had called a meeting..."
"...Not this..."
"...What is this, anyway?"
"...It's just, we have Amy..."
"...And she's still so young, we really ought..."
"...not to have brought her if you're doing this today..."
Both of the twins stared inquisitively down at Joshua and frowned.
"That's not Ralph," Eric said, the words sour in his mouth.
Sam nodded sickly. "Jack, who is that?"
"...'n why is Maurice..."
"...tied up like that?"
The boys blatant curiosity was sending Jack nerves ablaze, more so when he saw how terrified their young sister looked.
"Samneric," Jack began, smiling curtly.
Sam awkwardly backed towards the door.
"We should be leaving."
"Yes," Eric agreed. "On account of Amy."
"Samneric," Roger called. "You can't leave already." A sly grin possessed the young murderer, forcing both the twins and their sister to recoil from where they stood.
"C'mon guys," Bill exclaimed, jumping up and throwing out his hands. "It's me! Bill! Remember!"
The twins did, but hardly, considering the mask of blood that now covered the majority of Bill's face. A few of the other boys joined Bill in his encouraging accord, and finally, the twins gave in.
"Fine," Sam said softly, knowing that truly, they had no other choice.
Jack, who was now satisfied, turned his attention to Maurice, who was heaving with sobs, practically oblivious to the twin's presence. Jack watched his friend and then Joshua's limp but conscious state, and a sly idea passed through his head. He knew now that, like Samneric, he would never truly have Maurice's full loyalty, especially if he killed of Joshua. Perhaps...Perhaps he didn't have to kill Joshua. Perhaps he could just...blackmail him.
"Maurice," Jack said calmly. Maurice ignored him, so Jack snapped his fingers in Roger's direction and watched as his companion forcibly took Maurice by the jaw and jerked his head towards Jack. Again Jack said, "Maurice."
Maurice sobbed, ignoring the sudden pain of Roger's fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his jawline.
At his silence, Jack continued. "Are you willing to make a deal?" This, for whatever reason, brought Maurice halfway back to his senses. He managed to slow his sobs long enough to sputter the words, "What...what do you mean?"
Jack grinned and somewhat deftly, placed a foot on Joshua's side, enforcing his superiority. "Ever heard of the term, quid pro quo? It's a nice little saying, I reckon."
Maurice frowned. "W..what?"
"It's means, this for that. It's Latin." Jack let it sink in and watched as Maurice's sobs were reduced to mere snivels. Jack smiled. "You'd do anything to see Joshua live, am I correct?"
Maurice nodded almost immediately. Jack went on.
"Alright then, Maurice. Let's make a compromise; you obey my orders and complete them efficiently, and I'll spare your brother's life." Maurice's eyes had gained a glint of hope, but Jack wasn't going to fulfill his spirits completely yet. "That means, if I need you to knock Hailee unconscious when we finally bring her to the agreed meeting spot, you'll do it without hesitation. There'll be no more, I dunno or Maybe we should just move on..You'll do what I say, as I say, and when I say so. Got it?"
Maurice actually hesitated for a moment, but finally, he nodded.
Jack, however, spoke again.
"Now, just in case you feel a bit daring and fail to comply, I'm going to keep Joshua here, guarded at all times. You are only to see him when Roger or I says so. You are to tell your parents that he ran away...that he told you he was going to run away right before he did. Tell them you don't know when he'll be back, but that he's safe from harm. Don't let them call the cops. We already have enough shit to deal with from Derek's disappearance." Jack threw an irritated glare at Roger's direction, then focused back on Maurice's quivering form. "We clear?"
Maurice glanced nervously at his brother, then at the twins - the only ones who truly understood his reluctance to comply with Jack. They, Maurice realized, were under a similar circumstance. If they at any point chose to be loyal to Ralph over Jack, the chief could easily do away with Amy, just as he threatened to do with Joshua.
Without another sound, Maurice nodded.
"Fine. But..but will he be...okay?"
"He'll be fine," Jack said dismissively, taking his foot of the bleeding teenager on the floor. "Tyler's parents are doctors. He'll know what to do with him. Speaking of which, if anyone asks what happened to you, you will tell them that you fell down the stairs at my house, which according to our story, is where you were last night. Got it?"
"Fine," Maurice repeated again, sighing in relief as Lucas untied his ropes. His wrists were aching something awful, but it was nothing compared to the gut wrenching feeling of seeing Joshua like...like that. He hesitated at the door, staring at the brother that had done nothing but adored him, the brother that taught him how to play football and deal with grumpy teachers. Joshua was all Maurice ever remembered, ever since he could remember, to be perfectly factual. He had always been there, always, even when Maurice's father had been too caught up in work to ever pay attention to his sons. Joshua, Maurice realized, was his life. He loved him as dearly as Sam loved Eric or Eric loved Sam - it was a brotherly bond to strong to be broken, and bond that Maurice would be betraying by abandoning the helpless eighteen-year-old there. But he did. He reached for the doorknob of the shed, twisted it open, and walked out, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard his brother scream for him.
"Maurice! Oh god, please don't leave me here! Maurice! Maurice-"
Jack slammed the door shut behind Maurice, cutting Joshua's pleas of abruptly. Maurice stood there for a moment, unsure whether he felt guilty or self-hatred. He decided it was a median between the two, and if could've, he would've willingly jumped in the lake and drowned himself. But there were consequences to every action, and even Maurice escaped this world somehow, Joshua wouldn't, and either would Ralph, or Heather. Dying, that was a mercy. Living in this hell - Maurice realized it was a punishment probably for all the bad things he had ever done.
Like Joshua had once theorized, Maurice, essentially, had disintegrated into nothing. But even nothing was considered to be something.
HEATHER WAS SORTING THROUGH old, family photographs when she heard the rapping at her window. She looked up from the picture of toddler versions her and Simon building a sandcastle together and stared at the source of the somewhat disturbing noise. It sounded like someone was throwing rocks at her window, and somewhat annoyed, Heather arose to take a look. She had been spot on with her hypothesis; Someone was throwing rocks at her window, but when she opened the latch and peeked out of the frame, the rocks stopped, and the cool night air enveloped her.
Heather stared down at the boy who clutched a small pebble in his head, his green eyes wide with fear and desperation. Pleased to see him, Heather leaned her arms on the window pane and smiled.
"Maurice?" She called, watching as his face faltered. No, something's wrong.
"Heather-" His voice caught, and a single sob emerged from his already trembling body.
Anxiously, Heather gazed down at him.
"Maurice?" Her voice was full of concern. "Maurice...are you?"
"I need to come up."
Maurice was asking her; he was going to come up, whether she liked it or not.
Heather glanced around at her door with full knowledge that her mother lay in bed only a few rooms away. Still, Maurice needed her, and that made her feel...whole.
"Hang on," She said, going for her door, but Maurice didn't seem to have the patience. No, he had already found a steady grip between the crevices of the brick exterior, and was hoisting himself off.
Heather gawked. "Maurice, you're going to fall and break your neck!"
But Maurice was running on pure adrenaline, pure anger, and when it came down to it, anger was a powerful emotion.
It went like this for a few more moments; Maurice digging his fingers and feet into the crumbing cement between the bricks and Heather watching in awe and concern.
She wasn't sure how to react, but when he finally reached for her hand to help him through her window, she didn't hesitant. Not a bit.
Heather helped pull him through the window. At any other time, she would've laughed when they toppled on each other after he was finally through, but from the way his green eyes glinted with a sorrowful glare, she knew now was not the time. And then she saw his wounds...
"Oh my god," She said, sitting up and placing a hand over a bruise on his cheek. "What happened to you?"
Maurice didn't answer; he only stared out through the open window and huffed.
Being a Waterford, it was Heather's instinct to help him, and help she tried, but each time she attempted to gingerly clean the cuts along his once unmarred skin, he'd pull away. Finally Heather gave up and stared at the boy in confusion.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked, her voice soft but accusing.
Maurice looked down at his hands.
"What do you think is wrong with me?" He asked, so angrily that Heather jumped back.
"I was just...just..."
"Trying to help?" He muttered bitterly as he arose and brushed himself down. He snorted. "Just like your fucking brother..."
At his words, Heather's blood boiled. How dare he!
"If you came here to patronize me, then I'd appreciate it if you'd leave."
"You know I took a look at those books you gave me," He said suddenly, ignoring Heather's warning. His tone was still cold.
Heather raised one eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Maurice mindlessly picked up a picture from Heather's pile and stared at it, reflecting little to no emotion. "I think I have something called melancholia. Simply means I have little to no happiness for anything...I didn't even know that was a disease..."
Heather was silent, but her gaze never left Maurice as he displayed the photograph he had been staring at, a weird, un-Maurice-like grin plastered on his bruised face. It was a picture of Simon, about seven-years-old, sitting in his school uniform, arm in arm with Heather. A sob escaped her at the memory, and Maurice's eyes flickered with a brief disdain for her emotion.
"I hurt you," he said, flicking the photo away. "I hurt you, didn't I?"
Heather stared up at him, her heart swelling with a mixture of mad emotions.
"You didn't," She insisted, reached out to him. "Maurice, what's wrong?"
"I killed your brother," Maurice said, reaching for another photograph. It was also of Simon. "I killed him!"
"You weren't yourself on the island!" She cried, pushing the picture out of his hands.
Maurice shook his head.
"The crazy thing, Heather, is that I think I was myself on that island. I knew it was him, even when Jack tried to convince us the very next day that it was the Beast, I knew it was Simon. I knew it was him when he came bounding out of the woods and fumbling into our circle. And you know what? I still killed him."
"Stop it!" Heather begged as her eyes filled with warm tears.
Maurice was seething with fury.
"Am I hurting you now?" He snapped, approaching the weeping girl with an exerted amount of force. "You wanna know what I did? You wanna know why I'm not so different from Jack and Roger? I dug my spear into Simon's leg, see, so he couldn't get up. And I laughed, because Roger and Jack were laughing. Because we were all laughing. I pinned him down with my spear so Roger could spear him in the chest, over and over. Over and fucking over!"
Maurice's face was flushed with the intensity of his words, and unconsciously, he had kicked the stool to Heather's vanity table and turned it over, adding to the ruckus. Heather, astounded at his words, had drawn back and crumbled. She wept on the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and sobbing.
"Don't say that!" She pleaded. "Please don't-"
"And now," Maurice continued, exposing each and every twinge of anger he had ever felt for himself. "Now I've abandoned my brother. He called for me, he begged me not to leave him, but I did, because I'm a fucking selfish prick. I'm more of beast than Roger. I left my brother to the dogs."
Heather stared up through watery eyes and stuttered, "What...what are you talking about?"
"They took Joshua!" Maurice yelled, forcing Heather to shush him - after all, her mother could wake up. Maurice ignored her and continued. "They took me and beat me and lured him away. They were going to kill him, right there, in front of me, without even thinking about it! And the whole time I'm sitting there, thinking, what the fuck would I do without Joshua? Then I realize - it hit me - what I'd done to you, what we'd all done to you...I took away your brother, just like they were going to take away mine. Difference is though, they didn't, because they figured if they kept him alive, I'd be loyal to them. Now he's...I've...he called out, and I...I ignored him..I took Simon away...I...I..."
Maurice broke, right then and there, collapsing onto the floor and into a weeping heap. He sobbed, harder than ever before, sobbed for Joshua, sobbed for Simon, sobbed for Ralph...He really did hate himself, and Heather saw this. He hated himself more than anything else in the entire world, and before she knew what she was doing, Heather had drawn him in her arms and pulled the crying boy close.
"I forgive you," she whispered, stroking back his auburn locks of hair. "I know you're good, Maurice, and I forgive you."
Maurice looked up at her with pained green eyes, green eyes that had witnessed far too much impurities for a boy so young. He was tired, worn, and weak, and Heather's embrace was like a remedy against all the woes and fears that enveloped him. He succumbed to her, to all the feelings he knew stirred inside of him - the guilt, the pain, the horrible confusion - and without another word, he leaned up and gently, ever so gently, touched his lips to hers. The tension between them combusted, and like a fire exposed to gasoline, their hearts exploded.
Heather clung onto Maurice's strong frame, practically stinging with the heat from their embrace. He kissed her, and slowly, he parted her soft lips and tasted her, indulging in her warm, wet mouth. He had done this before, she hadn't, and hesitantly, she let him lead the way, gasping slightly when she felt his tongue slide over hers. Simultaneously, his hands ravenously drifted down the curve of her slim, teenage figure, taking in each rigid edge of her rough tank top and every fast motion of her short breaths. She tried to wrap her mind around the reality of their kiss, but it overwhelmed her to even think about. She pulled back for a moment, just to touch his face, just to make sure it was all real...
"Maurice," Heather said quietly. She hadn't noticed that she had wrapped her legs around Maurice's waist some time during their brief exchange.
Maurice muttered, "Yeah?"
She leaned forward to touch her forehead to his, then sighed.
"We need to let go," She whispered, her skin ablaze when she felt Maurice's warm touch so close to her.
"I want to forget," He answered, pecking her jaw.
Heather smiled and drew his lips close to hers. Before they sealed, she grinned and murmured, "Then forget."
Maurice pressed his lips against hers again, groaning when he felt her delicate body crushed against his. With that, the two teenagers lost themselves in a beautiful reality, and through that reality, they lost themselves in each other.
Woo yay for somewhat happy scenes (at the end there, at least). I watched the 1963 version of LOTF yesterday and I was like, "Dafuq, why is Ralph a brunette...AGAIN? AND DOUBLE DAFUQ, WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIS TEETH? AND TRIPLE DAFUQ, WHY IS JACK FLIPPING HOT?" I was quite confused after watching it, especially the whipping scene...that was...just...j...just...disturbing. Poor kid. ANYWAYS, back on topic, hope you enjoyed the latest installment for Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night. This kind of took me forever to write (IDK WHY) so reviews would be much appreciated (: Don't be afraid to put your ideas out there...I LIKE IDEAS. THEY MAKE ME HAPPY AND WARM INSIDE. Awkward. Also, why doesn't anybody else ship Maurice with anyone? He's freaking awesome. Just like, seriously. Awesome. Kay, I have homework that needs completing, and fanfictions that need reading (see what I did? haha), so I BEST BE LEAVING. (wow, i need to be a rapper. I'd be amazing. lol not really.) Review please! LOVE YOU ALL! x