A/N: Talk about the reactions I didn't expect!
A/N: Kit? Revenge shall be mine. By way of this splendiferous chapter! When I say 'spendiferous' I mean 'rubbish'. Please review guys, I'm telling you the only reason I'm not quitting is because I have this stupid notion people want to read it. This isn't just a ploy for reviews, it's the truth.
A/N: By the way this chapter is just sick. I *really* should change the rating. I'm just too fucking lazy. :-P But notice how I can describe sex so graphically and not mention any... 'parts'. Talent? Or just... ew-ness?
A/N: I came back to warn again. This is DISGUSTING.
*
Psychosis: Revelations
*
I twang the elastic band between my fingers again. I've been doing this for hours now. Never seems to get old. The rubber ring is red and thick, and makes a good pinging noise when I stretch it and release. There are many things I would like to release now, many thing that I cannot decipher within myself.
"Hey Paige, we're taking off to the beach for the day. Wanna come?"
"Sure." I get up and follow Piper somewhat reluctantly. When I arrive in the hallway, I don't bat an eyelid to see her body rammed through the banister, thick reams of wood shooting through her flesh, gouging her eyes backwards into her head, still. Nor does it faze me to see Phoebe lying on the ground, the television smashed over her skull, her hair frizzed and black above her head. When I crouch down to look from a lower angle, there is blood streaming from her mouth. That is so cool.
Next I wander on upstairs, into my room. Glen is there. Glen is also dead. I cannot see any cause. Minutes pass, I need a drink. There is a bottle of Tenessee liquor hidden behind my wardrobe, and I retrieve it. The caramel liquid warms my throat. I drink it straight from the bottle. As I have not eaten for two days, the fuzzy feeling hits me within seven minutes. My eyes begin to flutter and I close them for a moment before opening them groggily. Glen is still there.
Rubbing my face wearily, I walk over to his rigid form and slowly remove his clothes. With some difficult, the shirt comes off, and the pants. Immediately it is clear that he was in a state of arousal when he died, and it cannot have been too long ago that it happened. Just seeing it stand there, tall and proud as if he were alive stirs something in me. Something I cannot abate. Something I must fulfil.
He wouldn't mind. He'd have wanted it. One last time.
Mouth lightly open, I bend down and close my lips around it, going deeper until my throat tingles. When I rise, I wipe my mouth and gaze at it's glistening form, before hastily removing my underwear and pulling the material of my skirt up until it's level with my hips.
He's not... really, dead, you know. His body is still warm. His heart might still convulse once or twice, beating out its last. So in a way, he's not really dead. This isn't hugely wrong in that case. In fact, it's not wrong at all, it's right. I'm right. And they're all wrong. Useless bitches.
Before Glen relaxes for the last time, I climb up onto the bed and place my knees on either side of him. Silence innundates me, and I can feel him just lightly touching my own flesh. My breath comes out raggedly as slowly I prepare myself for penetration. And the time comes.
Gently as ever possible, I begin to lower myself down onto him. A choking gasp of air lurches into my mouth as I can even feel, no matter how much warmth reverberates my walls down there, just how cold he is. But rather than turn me away, it spurns me on. His icey touch feels all the more exciting, and I wish to warm him up, to make him burn with fire, the same fire that burns inside me. I want him to scream.
He's about halfway inside me now, and the feeling of arousal never stops. Closing my eyes as I grit my teeth, perfectly in control, I continue to slide down him until my thighs grind against his hips. And my teeth gnaw on his lips. And my passion slowly slips.
"Fucking two dead guys now, huh?"
I stop my rocking back and forth, the gentle lovemaking I was administering so softly, and look over my shoulder. "I didn't really sleep with Leo. That was a dream."
"So's this, who's to say?"
"Well," I begin contemplatively, "if this was a dream, I'd be sticking a knife through your neck right now."
"You already did that."
It's true. Well, not in so many words. But it's true.
"Yeah, you're right," she goes on. "It was more in my back, wasn't it? Or maybe that time you just beat me up and even now I can still barely remain conscious. And to think I actually wanted to give you a chance. Well that's two strikes Paige, two strikes. You get one more and you're out. And I don't mean out of the house. I mean permanently. Now clean up this mess. Look, blood's dribbling onto the bedspread. Who fucking well changed that? I did! So you damn well better fix it!"
I get up, feeling him slither out of me and flopping down onto himself. Next time I look, he's not even there. Leo is. "That wasn't him before-" I start.
She doesn't care for my excuses. She doesn't care about anything remotely to do with me, the sister she never wanted.
And she's going to do everything in her power to make sure that I become the sister she never had.
If only she wasn't already dead.
*
I will never use the word 'slither' again and not think of this day. And guys, if this doesn't turn you off the story, then notng will. If you enjoyed that? You're a bloody sicko.
A/N: Kit? Revenge shall be mine. By way of this splendiferous chapter! When I say 'spendiferous' I mean 'rubbish'. Please review guys, I'm telling you the only reason I'm not quitting is because I have this stupid notion people want to read it. This isn't just a ploy for reviews, it's the truth.
A/N: By the way this chapter is just sick. I *really* should change the rating. I'm just too fucking lazy. :-P But notice how I can describe sex so graphically and not mention any... 'parts'. Talent? Or just... ew-ness?
A/N: I came back to warn again. This is DISGUSTING.
*
Psychosis: Revelations
*
I twang the elastic band between my fingers again. I've been doing this for hours now. Never seems to get old. The rubber ring is red and thick, and makes a good pinging noise when I stretch it and release. There are many things I would like to release now, many thing that I cannot decipher within myself.
"Hey Paige, we're taking off to the beach for the day. Wanna come?"
"Sure." I get up and follow Piper somewhat reluctantly. When I arrive in the hallway, I don't bat an eyelid to see her body rammed through the banister, thick reams of wood shooting through her flesh, gouging her eyes backwards into her head, still. Nor does it faze me to see Phoebe lying on the ground, the television smashed over her skull, her hair frizzed and black above her head. When I crouch down to look from a lower angle, there is blood streaming from her mouth. That is so cool.
Next I wander on upstairs, into my room. Glen is there. Glen is also dead. I cannot see any cause. Minutes pass, I need a drink. There is a bottle of Tenessee liquor hidden behind my wardrobe, and I retrieve it. The caramel liquid warms my throat. I drink it straight from the bottle. As I have not eaten for two days, the fuzzy feeling hits me within seven minutes. My eyes begin to flutter and I close them for a moment before opening them groggily. Glen is still there.
Rubbing my face wearily, I walk over to his rigid form and slowly remove his clothes. With some difficult, the shirt comes off, and the pants. Immediately it is clear that he was in a state of arousal when he died, and it cannot have been too long ago that it happened. Just seeing it stand there, tall and proud as if he were alive stirs something in me. Something I cannot abate. Something I must fulfil.
He wouldn't mind. He'd have wanted it. One last time.
Mouth lightly open, I bend down and close my lips around it, going deeper until my throat tingles. When I rise, I wipe my mouth and gaze at it's glistening form, before hastily removing my underwear and pulling the material of my skirt up until it's level with my hips.
He's not... really, dead, you know. His body is still warm. His heart might still convulse once or twice, beating out its last. So in a way, he's not really dead. This isn't hugely wrong in that case. In fact, it's not wrong at all, it's right. I'm right. And they're all wrong. Useless bitches.
Before Glen relaxes for the last time, I climb up onto the bed and place my knees on either side of him. Silence innundates me, and I can feel him just lightly touching my own flesh. My breath comes out raggedly as slowly I prepare myself for penetration. And the time comes.
Gently as ever possible, I begin to lower myself down onto him. A choking gasp of air lurches into my mouth as I can even feel, no matter how much warmth reverberates my walls down there, just how cold he is. But rather than turn me away, it spurns me on. His icey touch feels all the more exciting, and I wish to warm him up, to make him burn with fire, the same fire that burns inside me. I want him to scream.
He's about halfway inside me now, and the feeling of arousal never stops. Closing my eyes as I grit my teeth, perfectly in control, I continue to slide down him until my thighs grind against his hips. And my teeth gnaw on his lips. And my passion slowly slips.
"Fucking two dead guys now, huh?"
I stop my rocking back and forth, the gentle lovemaking I was administering so softly, and look over my shoulder. "I didn't really sleep with Leo. That was a dream."
"So's this, who's to say?"
"Well," I begin contemplatively, "if this was a dream, I'd be sticking a knife through your neck right now."
"You already did that."
It's true. Well, not in so many words. But it's true.
"Yeah, you're right," she goes on. "It was more in my back, wasn't it? Or maybe that time you just beat me up and even now I can still barely remain conscious. And to think I actually wanted to give you a chance. Well that's two strikes Paige, two strikes. You get one more and you're out. And I don't mean out of the house. I mean permanently. Now clean up this mess. Look, blood's dribbling onto the bedspread. Who fucking well changed that? I did! So you damn well better fix it!"
I get up, feeling him slither out of me and flopping down onto himself. Next time I look, he's not even there. Leo is. "That wasn't him before-" I start.
She doesn't care for my excuses. She doesn't care about anything remotely to do with me, the sister she never wanted.
And she's going to do everything in her power to make sure that I become the sister she never had.
If only she wasn't already dead.
*
I will never use the word 'slither' again and not think of this day. And guys, if this doesn't turn you off the story, then notng will. If you enjoyed that? You're a bloody sicko.