"Skip or Trip" by Soul Pariah
Chapter 2: "Sleeping Beauty"
Driving.just driving. The futile act of pretending to not have a destination, when you always have a destination, you just can't admit that you do.
Are you really going to do what you think you're going to do, Johnny? His own voice in his head this time, sounding disbelieving and a little scared. I know you're crazy, but.even I see the stupidity in this, and I am you.
Nny admitted it. It didn't make any sense. He pondered this as he turned onto Devi's street. If he knew that this was a bad idea, why was he doing it? He'd never felt like this before, this sense of being fully and consciously against one's action, yet doing it anyway. Sure, he hadn't always been in control when he was killing, but he loved it anyway, not even going to the afterlife had been enough to quench his bloodlust.
Bloodlust? Nny couldn't remember feeling lust for anything in a long time. Bloodlove, then, perhaps? He didn't know.
The digital clock in the car read 2:07 AM. It really didn't matter, since Nny knew she had a problem leaving the house. Does she sleep early or late? Nny realized he had no idea. Did she live alone or with someone? Nny couldn't answer that either. For all he knew, she's be in bed, resting in the arms of some asshole that he'd been planning on killing soon. The thought stung him, and he pushed it out of his head.
Nny parked the car down the street from her building, not afraid in the least. He realized that it was stupid not to be, he'd never done anything like this before. But maybe that's why it was right. He'd be scared if he wasn't supposed to do this.
Fuck you, MEAT, for putting these doubts in my head, Johnny cursed, I'm becoming a vegetarian just to spite you.
Nny popped the trunk open, studied what was inside. He grabbed rope, a medium sized knife with a serrated edge, duct tape, and his gun. Into his black bag they went. He hoped he wouldn't need them. If he did have to deal with a roommate or.another man.he couldn't just walk in with his implements of kidnapping laid out in his hands. And he wouldn't kill them either, even if he really wanted to. That would significantly delay the healing process, which by the looks of his relationship with Devi, would take a long time anyway.
He found himself unconsciously praying, and stopped when he remembered his experience with the corpulent, repulsive deity that was called God. Not that he'd pray to the pompous, cheerleading "Senior Diablo" anytime soon, either. Fucking Devil.hmm. He was getting distracted.
Devi's entire street was deserted, not that it would've made a difference if she lived in, say the middle of Times Square. He was getting this done tonight.
He stared up at her bedroom window, which was dark. Following her around for so long had paid off; at least he knew where the hell he was going. Nny stepped up to the front door, which was unsurprisingly unlocked. For the first time, Nny wondered why he could get away with anything, why there was never anything in the way to stop him.
Never mind. He slunk into the hallway, climbing the seven flights of stairs to her apartment. Nny's hand reached out for the doorknob. It was locked. Strange.a flicker of doubt came over him. He gave the knob a hard yank, and the lock popped quietly. A broad smile came over Johnny's face. No more doubt now.
He had never been inside before. Even though it was dark, he could tell that the apartment was nice. Some of Devi's paintings hung on the wall, and he admired them with a little hostility, missing the days when he could paint something with more symbolism than a stick figure with Tourette's. Now.which room was Devi's room?
A figure stirred on the couch. A girl. Not Devi. Okay, she was still asleep. No need to worry about that.
Johnny crept to the two doors past the couch, on opposite ends of a short corridor. Which room? He guessed right. He was right.
Devi was lying on her bed, still in her clothes, the covers tossed in the left-hand corner of the bed. There were paint splatters on her arms and cheeks, and Nny noticed the easel in the corner of the room. The canvas was splattered with reds and blacks, an angry surrealist painting. There were four dismembered bodies gracing each corner of the painting. Johnny didn't know whether to be happy that the girl had such violent tendencies in her, or sad, knowing that he probably caused them. Instead of choosing one, he simply went over to the bed and looked down.
Her hand was across her face; her hair was still pulled back. She was wearing a black vintage style dress, fishnet stockings, and black boots similar to Johnny's. The purple in her hair had begun to fade into a pinkish violet.
Nny sighed. Now was no time to get distracted by Devi's physicality. He was here to make things better, not to get a hard-on. (AN: Yes, I am aware of how horrible that image is!) Not that a lack of sex had ever bothered Johnny, he despised physical contact. Well, too late for that now, he'd have to carry her.
Nny slid his hands around her throat and squeezed. He held his head down so that she wouldn't know it was him when she opened her eyes. She gasped, choked, but didn't even have a chance to struggle before the pressure of his hands caused her to black out.
He caressed her cheek briefly, then stopped himself. He didn't understand where his strength came from, but he barely even felt Devi's weight as he hoisted her over his shoulder.
Of course, Nny got her out of the apartment and to his car without incident. She began to stir as he placed her in the passenger seat, so, as gently as he possibly could, he hit her in the back of the head with his gun. Still, she'd be out for a good 40 minutes. He shut the door and went around to the driver's side. As they drove back to Nny's house, she remained out cold. Nny stole occasional glance at her. She looked like she was sleeping, especially since he couldn't see the trickle of blood coming down the back of her head.
This had to work. It just had to.
**
Devi's head was aching. She sensed something was wrong, something had happened, but she couldn't remember what. Something was oozing down the back of her neck. Paint, probably. But why did her head hurt so much, right there, like she'd been hit with a piece of plywood, or pistol whipped or something. She went to move her hand to the back of her neck, but they wouldn't move.
Oh fuck.
She felt her heart start to race as her eyes blearily opened and she took in the situation. She was lying in bed, but not her bed. Her arms were tied up, tied to the frame of the bed. Her feet were tied too, but together at the end of the bed, not spread apart.
A small sound left her throat, but she couldn't scream, it just wouldn't come. Please oh please God don't let this be what I think it is, let this be Tenna fucking around or something, don't let it be-
She saw someone standing in the doorway. Someone impossibly skinny and frail looking.
I'm so fucked.
Nny came forward into the light, a tight knitted hat over his hair.
"Please don't scream. I promise you, I can explain everything. It's not at all as bad as it looks...please, Devi, please, don't scream."
She screamed anyway.
OooOh, ok, so them there be part 2. Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they made my insides feel good like cornbread! Chapter 3 up tomorrow!
Chapter 2: "Sleeping Beauty"
Driving.just driving. The futile act of pretending to not have a destination, when you always have a destination, you just can't admit that you do.
Are you really going to do what you think you're going to do, Johnny? His own voice in his head this time, sounding disbelieving and a little scared. I know you're crazy, but.even I see the stupidity in this, and I am you.
Nny admitted it. It didn't make any sense. He pondered this as he turned onto Devi's street. If he knew that this was a bad idea, why was he doing it? He'd never felt like this before, this sense of being fully and consciously against one's action, yet doing it anyway. Sure, he hadn't always been in control when he was killing, but he loved it anyway, not even going to the afterlife had been enough to quench his bloodlust.
Bloodlust? Nny couldn't remember feeling lust for anything in a long time. Bloodlove, then, perhaps? He didn't know.
The digital clock in the car read 2:07 AM. It really didn't matter, since Nny knew she had a problem leaving the house. Does she sleep early or late? Nny realized he had no idea. Did she live alone or with someone? Nny couldn't answer that either. For all he knew, she's be in bed, resting in the arms of some asshole that he'd been planning on killing soon. The thought stung him, and he pushed it out of his head.
Nny parked the car down the street from her building, not afraid in the least. He realized that it was stupid not to be, he'd never done anything like this before. But maybe that's why it was right. He'd be scared if he wasn't supposed to do this.
Fuck you, MEAT, for putting these doubts in my head, Johnny cursed, I'm becoming a vegetarian just to spite you.
Nny popped the trunk open, studied what was inside. He grabbed rope, a medium sized knife with a serrated edge, duct tape, and his gun. Into his black bag they went. He hoped he wouldn't need them. If he did have to deal with a roommate or.another man.he couldn't just walk in with his implements of kidnapping laid out in his hands. And he wouldn't kill them either, even if he really wanted to. That would significantly delay the healing process, which by the looks of his relationship with Devi, would take a long time anyway.
He found himself unconsciously praying, and stopped when he remembered his experience with the corpulent, repulsive deity that was called God. Not that he'd pray to the pompous, cheerleading "Senior Diablo" anytime soon, either. Fucking Devil.hmm. He was getting distracted.
Devi's entire street was deserted, not that it would've made a difference if she lived in, say the middle of Times Square. He was getting this done tonight.
He stared up at her bedroom window, which was dark. Following her around for so long had paid off; at least he knew where the hell he was going. Nny stepped up to the front door, which was unsurprisingly unlocked. For the first time, Nny wondered why he could get away with anything, why there was never anything in the way to stop him.
Never mind. He slunk into the hallway, climbing the seven flights of stairs to her apartment. Nny's hand reached out for the doorknob. It was locked. Strange.a flicker of doubt came over him. He gave the knob a hard yank, and the lock popped quietly. A broad smile came over Johnny's face. No more doubt now.
He had never been inside before. Even though it was dark, he could tell that the apartment was nice. Some of Devi's paintings hung on the wall, and he admired them with a little hostility, missing the days when he could paint something with more symbolism than a stick figure with Tourette's. Now.which room was Devi's room?
A figure stirred on the couch. A girl. Not Devi. Okay, she was still asleep. No need to worry about that.
Johnny crept to the two doors past the couch, on opposite ends of a short corridor. Which room? He guessed right. He was right.
Devi was lying on her bed, still in her clothes, the covers tossed in the left-hand corner of the bed. There were paint splatters on her arms and cheeks, and Nny noticed the easel in the corner of the room. The canvas was splattered with reds and blacks, an angry surrealist painting. There were four dismembered bodies gracing each corner of the painting. Johnny didn't know whether to be happy that the girl had such violent tendencies in her, or sad, knowing that he probably caused them. Instead of choosing one, he simply went over to the bed and looked down.
Her hand was across her face; her hair was still pulled back. She was wearing a black vintage style dress, fishnet stockings, and black boots similar to Johnny's. The purple in her hair had begun to fade into a pinkish violet.
Nny sighed. Now was no time to get distracted by Devi's physicality. He was here to make things better, not to get a hard-on. (AN: Yes, I am aware of how horrible that image is!) Not that a lack of sex had ever bothered Johnny, he despised physical contact. Well, too late for that now, he'd have to carry her.
Nny slid his hands around her throat and squeezed. He held his head down so that she wouldn't know it was him when she opened her eyes. She gasped, choked, but didn't even have a chance to struggle before the pressure of his hands caused her to black out.
He caressed her cheek briefly, then stopped himself. He didn't understand where his strength came from, but he barely even felt Devi's weight as he hoisted her over his shoulder.
Of course, Nny got her out of the apartment and to his car without incident. She began to stir as he placed her in the passenger seat, so, as gently as he possibly could, he hit her in the back of the head with his gun. Still, she'd be out for a good 40 minutes. He shut the door and went around to the driver's side. As they drove back to Nny's house, she remained out cold. Nny stole occasional glance at her. She looked like she was sleeping, especially since he couldn't see the trickle of blood coming down the back of her head.
This had to work. It just had to.
**
Devi's head was aching. She sensed something was wrong, something had happened, but she couldn't remember what. Something was oozing down the back of her neck. Paint, probably. But why did her head hurt so much, right there, like she'd been hit with a piece of plywood, or pistol whipped or something. She went to move her hand to the back of her neck, but they wouldn't move.
Oh fuck.
She felt her heart start to race as her eyes blearily opened and she took in the situation. She was lying in bed, but not her bed. Her arms were tied up, tied to the frame of the bed. Her feet were tied too, but together at the end of the bed, not spread apart.
A small sound left her throat, but she couldn't scream, it just wouldn't come. Please oh please God don't let this be what I think it is, let this be Tenna fucking around or something, don't let it be-
She saw someone standing in the doorway. Someone impossibly skinny and frail looking.
I'm so fucked.
Nny came forward into the light, a tight knitted hat over his hair.
"Please don't scream. I promise you, I can explain everything. It's not at all as bad as it looks...please, Devi, please, don't scream."
She screamed anyway.
OooOh, ok, so them there be part 2. Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they made my insides feel good like cornbread! Chapter 3 up tomorrow!