I want to write this chapter perfectly, so it might take a few shots for me
to capture the mood. It's gonna be a little intense, so if you can't take
the heat, get out of the kitchen. Er . . . why did I say that? Eugh... Nah,
just, it might be rated a little higher for it's content, so watch out . .
. Please don't flame me or anything, I'm worried I'm not going to be able
to pull this off. Heck, I don't even know what I'm going to do after this
first bit, but we will see . . .
Disclaimer: No lyrics belong to me from this chapter.
**************************************************************************** **************
Paul's POV
She just stood there. As if she had done nothing wrong. As if she was innocent . . .
Ha . . . Innocent my arse.
She didn't know that I'd seen her. With De Silva.
I saw a look of fleeting panic flash across her fragile features. Her eyes looked scared. They wouldn't leave mine. I saw her chest rising and falling, very fast. Just as it had been when she'd been in his arms, kissing him, wanting him.
Wanting him and not me.
I wasn't taking it too kindly.
There was no moon this night. Darkness blanketed us, thick and ominous. Her wrists were still bleeding. A single drop fell to her floor, leaving a tiny red dot on the ground. She continued to gaze at me, fear stirring behind her eyes.
Emerald, starry eyes that had captivated me, enticed me, fueled me . . .
Deceived me . . .
The bitch.
We remained motionless, staring at each other. Slowly, my anger was starting to rise again. She didn't say a word, as if she had nothing to say to make her actions seem like a terrible mistake. Soon, my anger turned to fury. Painful, hot and acidic in my stomach, corroding through me with such fire that it aroused the deadly temptation to kill again. To give me that power, that thrill, of claiming a life. And gradually, as the lethal silence burnt on, my fury turned to an overpowering white-hot rage that I'd never felt before. It was excruciating, slowly consuming ever nerve of my body, every muscle, ever thought.
My hands began to shake again, and I ground my teeth together, trying to hold back this impulse to . . . destroy.
This rage, it was unbearable! But, as it conquered me, I found it to be . . . empowering.
And deadly addictive.
An eternity seemed to pass, when she finally opened her lips. Lips that had touched another's . . .
His.
'I . . . '
She lost her confidence. I saw her shaking, but not in the way that I was. She was terrified. And so she should be . . . She had no idea what she'd done, and how much it mattered.
I swallowed hard. 'Yes, Susie?' I said, my voice a fatal whisper. It cut her like a knife. Her fear intensified.
'I . . . ' she stuttered, 'I . . . heard what Heather said. She said you slept with her. It's true, isn't it?' Her eyes studied me with supreme dread.
I ignored what she said. My shaking fists were clenched so tightly that my blunt nails were digging into my flesh. The need for violence made my chest seize up into a tight, aching knot. I could barely breathe, but I didn't need to.
'I saw you,' I told her coldly, preserving my menacing stance.
Three words. Three tiny little words that had so much impact on her. All at once, her mouth opened into the tiniest O, and her eyes glazed over in horror, and her hands twitched, and her breathing quickened dramatically, and she stepped back.
Oh no you don't . . .
'Paul,' she said, her voice unnaturally high, 'I can explain, I can-'
'Oh, you don't need to explain, Suze,' I smiled stiffly. But I could think of nothing less funny in my whole existence. It certainly wasn't funny what I was going to do to her. I took a step towards her, oh so slowly. 'I understand completely . . . '
She backed away. 'No, it's not like that, I swear-'
'Come on, Suze,' I slid my tongue over my dry lips and took another step closer. 'It's exactly like that, and you know it.'
'No, Paul, stop,' she breathed frantically, choking, 'You have to understand, I didn't-'
'But Suze, you did,' I said tonelessly. She shook her head madly, so her hair swayed from side to side.
'No, no,' she whispered, breaking eye contact with me at last. She looked wildly, anywhere but at me.
'You've been bad . . . '
Her eyes snapped back to me in alarm. I saw her pupils zoom into microscopic black dots. Shadows played darkly across her face. She retreated. I advanced on her until she was right against her wall, crushing her there with my body. She moaned softly. I placed my hands on the wall either side of her head. She stared up at me, petrified. Another rush of this wonderful, turbulent rage surged into me, pulsing through me so forcefully I almost couldn't stand it. But I didn't let it defeat me. I was too strong and too provoked to not exploit it. I felt like I was surfing horrible yet brilliant waves of pleasure.
I stroked her hair a little, careful that I didn't rip it out in my wrath. 'You kissed him,' I said forthrightly. 'You enjoyed it. You let him touch you. You don't let me touch you like that.' My nostrils flared, and my lip curled a little. Reigning in this killer emotion was harder than anything I could ever imagine. I just wanted to release it. Let it run wild.
Around the room, things began to shake. Posters on the walls ripped off, ornaments fell and shattered on the hard ground, and the bulb in her light smashed loudly. She let out a short, loud scream, but I quickly put a finger on my lips.
'Paul,' she said levelly, pushing my hand away. 'Don't. You're angry, you'll do something that you'll regret. Just go, before you break any more of my stuff.'
I laughed at that. It was a flat, humourless laugh that echoed dully around the room. I could feel her quivering beneath me.
'Oh, Suze,' I sneered, 'Don't worry about me breaking your stuff . . .' I moved my lips near her ear, and said in a dangerous hiss, '. . . worry about me breaking you.'
I felt her tense up, and she turned her head away from me. 'Paul, stop this- '
'No,' I snarled suddenly with viciousness. 'You deserve this!'
With that, I shoved her roughly sideways. She screamed loudly, and crashed into her bedside table, breaking it cleanly. A bit of wood very shallowly stabbed her in the stomach. Oh, I savoured that scream, so shrill, so terrified and pleading. It was luscious. She deserved this, all of it . . . It was her own fault . . .
'Paul, don't!' she cried raggedly. She tried to crawl away, but I grabbed her foot and pulled her back. Molten rage exploded all around me, and I saw fire everywhere I looked. Dancing, black flames, crackling evilly, giving no light. And Suze was crying. I kneeled down over her, and smacked her face. She deserved it all . . .
'I loved you!' I snarled. 'Don't you understand that? Love?'
'You don't love me, and you never could,' she retorted. You have to have a heart to love-'
I slapped her again, and she shrieked. I straddled her as she squirmed, desperate to get away . . . But I could tell she wanted this. She knew she had it coming . . .
~* She had it coming
She had it coming
She only had herself to blame.
If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it
I bet you, you would
Have done the same . . . *~
' . . . Paul, please!' she screamed. I went to grab her wrists so she would stop struggling, but she began whacking me in the chest. I finally caught her wrists, and she yelled in pain. I remembered the rope cuts she had on them. Oh well, it was her own fault for letting Heather knock her out.
'You knew I loved you,' I spat at her sourly, 'and still, you went out and found him? I told you who killed me, and you went to HIM to get your kicks. Well, Suze, that's just WRONG.'
She screamed hysterically as I ripped her black cotton top open by the neck. 'AH! Please, please! Don't! Please, Paul, please,' she moaned, still thrashing about. Myriad tears were running down either side of her eyes like jewels, and her face was scrunched up in pain. Her whole body was shaking, and a bit of her black bra was exposed. 'No, Paul! Please, please- '
Stupid devious bitch . . . All her fault. She was asking for this terrible pain. She was panting for punishment . . .
She managed to kick me off then, God knows how, and tried to wriggle away towards the window on her stomach. 'No, no, no . . . ' she gasped and panted in terror.
Oh no you don't . . .
I dived on top of her again, and twisted her forcibly around to face me by her shoulders. I almost squashed them in my killer grip. She cried out in pain, sobbing recklessly.
'You DO love me, you just don't know it. You've felt it before, Suze. When I kissed you . . . I felt it, and so did you. You know you did! You don't love Jesse De fricken Silva! You LOVE ME!' I roared vituperatively, bashing her head against the ground. Her eyes rolled up into her head, but came back. I didn't want her unconscious. I wanted to make her suffer for what she'd done . . .
What she was doing to me still.
'Oh, and that makes it okay for you to go sleeping around, does it?' she gasped.
Bitch!
I punched her in the head.
'Please, someone help!' she screamed. There was no use calling for help. Everyone was out. I'd checked. I didn't know where they were, but I didn't care. We were alone . . .
'Please!' she wailed . . .
~* She had it coming
She had it coming
She had it coming all along.
I didn't do it
But if I'd done it,
How could you tell me that I was wrong? *~
Suze crossed her arms over her chest, yelping and wailing in terror. I fed from it, taking pleasure in every ear-splitting cry. She deserved it . . . I seized her bloodied wrists, as she was screaming, and forced them away from her chest. I slammed them on the ground. She tried to pull them away, but she was too weak by then. She arched her back, screaming and crying. Her legs were kicking and flailing wildly beneath me. She wouldn't give up thrashing though. Wouldn't give up the struggle. Soon she would. Soon she would have to accept the consequences of her actions. Her breath was ragged and rapid. I was sinking into the darkness in my own heart. I shut my eyes with a sick grin, relishing her undreamt of horror. My stiffened hands snaked around her neck, and began constricting. Her eyes went dead blank with hopelessness.
If I couldn't have her, no one could . . . NO ONE!
'Time to end this,' I growled at her, leaning into her heavily, squeezing her throat as my rage exploded. I roared in her face, thunderous and ultimate. I felt her pain channeling through me, as it stimulated me. 'Bye, sweetheart . . . '
'Get off! Paul, please, you're hurting me!'
Tears.
She deserved it . . .
'Ah! Stop! Someone help!'
Blood.
It was her fault . . .
'Please!! Paul, don't!'
The screaming wouldn't stop . . .
She had it coming . . .
'STOP IT! OW! PLEASE! PLEEEEE-EEEE-EEAASE!!!!' she howled in pure despair.
Her terror was so addictive!
She was choking . . . she –
Dematerialized.
~*~
Suze's POV
The last thing I saw in that room was Paul's face an inch away from mine with a fire in his icy blue eyes I'd never seen before. It was a dangerous, deadly fire, intended to kill. His temple had been pulsing madly, and his face was contorted in an ugly twist. I knew that he was going to kill me, as soon as he said, "I saw you."
But I couldn't get out. He wouldn't let me escape . . .
And just when I knew he was going to take me forever, the energy of my fear, I dunno, must have made me materialize. Like what Jesse said with that calling thing, that it happened in a time of great terror or something . . .
Whatever happened, it had saved my life.
I'd materialized to the rectory. I don't know why, it just seemed the place where I'd be safest. I could hide behind Father Dom, and let him protect me. Jesse was never to know about this. If he did, well . . . look, he wasn't going to know, all right?
I swayed my way to Father Dom's little house thingie, and knocked weakly on the door. Hey? I'd taken a pretty freakish battering that night. I was having trouble breathing, and my wrists were really bloody now, after the way Paul had been grabbing and twisting them . . .
Those ruthless blue eyes flashed in my mind's eye as vividly as if they were right in front of me. The deadliness was crystal-clear. He had been ready to kill me, to torture me . . .
I screwed up my face against the throbbing pain in my skull. What with Heather's Paul antics, and Paul bashing me against the ground, I was pretty dizzy. Most people would have been rendered unconscious if that had have happened, but us mediators have like, a small immunity to that. Granted, yes, Heather knocked me out cold with one blow that first time she caught me off guard, but that had been lucky for her.
God, when was Father Dom planning to open this door?!
I knocked harder and rowdily on the door. 'Father Dom!' I yelled, my vision swaying. Oh, where was he? I wouldn't last much longer . . .
Then, I heard the most beautiful sound in my life – footsteps.
The door opened, and a tired looking, tall, snowy haired priest stood blinking at me, right before his expression moulded to a horrified one.
Oh, it truly was a divine sight to see . . .
'Susannah!' he gasped. 'What – what happened?!'
'Good mornin' . . .' I said woozily, and promptly fell face first into his chest, out for the count.
~*~
I was only out cold for about five minutes. I know, he was kind of still yelling 'Susannah! Wake up!'
I blinked mistily at him. Everything was a little fuzzy.
'Oh, hi,' I burbled groggily. I guess I was lying on his sofa. I looked around. Everything was very classy, and old-man like, with lots of shades of brown and stuff. Ugh . . . You know the kind. Old people's homes always have 'em. I think it's horrible, personally, but who am I to go all interior decorator on him? But like I said, it was classy too, with the blacks and white everywhere . . .
Oh, my priorities are just FINE.
'Susannah,' he said, relieved I wasn't dead or something. 'Oh dear, what have you done to yourself?'
'Nothing,' I said, surprised. 'Do you think I would do this to myself on purpose? I didn't do it-'
'No, I meant that as in, what happened? Why are your wrists bleeding. And your face, it's simply black and blue.'
I tried to focus my eyes on him. There were two upset Father Doms standing in front of me, merging in and out of each other as my vision crossed drowsily. A warm yellow light flooded his living area. I looked down and saw that my wrists were still dripping stubbornly.
Oh great, I was staining the carpet . . .
'Sorry,' I muttered guiltily, sitting up and putting my red ringed wrists in my lap –
OW.
Shit, sat up too fast . . . Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. The pain was overwhelming. I felt so deadened, like I had a numbing anaesthetic pumping through my body, everywhere but my head. Oh, God . . .
Father Dom frowned heavily, then rushed to get a first aid kit. He came striding back hurriedly, and within five painful minutes, I had muffin-man hands. Oh, joy, weren't these attractive? I looked like the spawn of Puffin Fresh . . . Then, he moved onto where the stake of wood had gored me. Father Dominic, not Puffin Fresh. But by God, it hurt so badly. He awkwardly smeared a numbing alcohol wipe on my side just beside my belly button, and then fixed the wound up with this white material stuff. I winced as he applied it.
'You really should go to a hospital, you might need stitches-'
'No!' I said. 'I'll be fine. I heal quickly, it'll be great, Padre. Just, not a hospital. They'll call mum, she can't know about this . . .'
He looked at me as if I was daft. Probably was, mind.
I glared at my hands, but no, scowling hurt too much . . . I settled with a soft pout. He gave me a tablet that I assumed was a little stronger than an Aspirin, because the throbbing pain completely went by the next half an hour.
Finally, we were sitting down on his couch. I was staring sadly into space, trying hard not to think about what had just happened . . . I didn't want to, but everywhere, I just kept seeing those blue eyes, glaring at me. They had been nothing short of murderous. That image would take a lifetime to fade from my memory. I could still plainly see the bubbling rage that shone intensely from his eyes with a burning fire that seemed to decay my hope. I had been vulnerable and powerless against a rage as strong as that . . .
'Susannah,' he said, breaking the awful silence that stung me, 'You are going to tell me what happened, right?'
I still gazed stonily at the bloodstain on his carpet. It was my blood. 'No, not really . . . '
'Susannah,' he said in a deeply sad yet chiding tone, 'Please tell me what is going on. I need to know, if I am to help you-'
'I don't need help,' I said, 'I'm dealing with it.'
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. 'Oh, dealing with it very well, Susannah. Yes.'
I crossed my muffin-handed arms irritably. 'Okay, this was all Heather. She's gone now. She's in Purgatory.'
His eyes bugged out. 'You exorcised her?! After I specifically told you not to, Susannah! Why didn't you just leave her to me? I would have collaborated silently, and none of this violent nonsense would have happened. You're not invincible, you know, as much as you think you are.'
'Ah, the beauty of hindsight,' I said tetchily. 'Ah no, she would have beat the shit out of you too. Oops, sorry, not allowed to say shit, right? Shit's like, a sin to say to a priest or something, isn't it?'
His hands twitched. 'One would think you would've stopped saying it by now,' he said indifferently.
Then his face broke into a huge smile.
'Oh, Susannah, I'm just glad you're alive,' he said warmly, and gave me a gently hug. He smelt very church, with a strong aroma of inscense on him. I felt very safe all of a sudden. Safe from ghosts.
And safe from Paul . . .
'I'm not sure how you're going to explain this to your mother,' he muttered, and let go of me carefully. 'Well, I'll drive you home-'
'No!' I shouted instantly, but regretted it straight away.
He stopped dead and eyed me suspiciously. 'Why?'
Screw the sinning . . . I was in deep shit . . .
**************************************************************************** ********
Paul's POV
Where . . . where'd she go?
WHERE DID SHE GO?!
I wasn't done with her yet! I leapt up and staggered to the window, holding onto the frame so hard, that the wood almost crushed in my grasp. I panted as the cold air bitterly filled my lungs.
'Get back here!' I roared into the darkness of the night. My head was pumping with rampant adrenaline –
Until I saw my hands . . .
They . . . they were covered.
In blood.
Suze's blood . . .
From her wrists.
It had stained my hands. Dark, dripping, red and thick . . .
. . . Time froze, still as death itself . . .
I stared at it, and as quickly as it had built up, the rage left me entirely. I sank down to my knees, still staring at my hands. At my very own hands.
My God . . . what had I done?
WHAT HAD I DONE?!
My God . . .
I'd been so seduced by the unrivaled, intoxicating power, and I'd been easy prey to a deadly passion. I'd let the rage hijack me.
And I'd almost killed her . . .
I loved her, and I'd almost killed her . . .
What had I done?
Oh God . . .
I'd just been so angry!
I blinked at the window, at the pane of glass exploded into a thousand splinters with a tinkling shatter. The rage had been so ensnaring . . . Seeing her with De Silva . . . After he'd killed me . . . It wasn't meant to be this way . . . I was supposed to use Suze to get revenge on HIM, not the OTHER FRIGGING WAY AROUND!!
. . . Or maybe he was controlling her to get back at me. Yeah, that's right.
And I'd blamed her for it all.
What had I done?
Oh God. I was so close to murdering her . . . The woman that I had grown to love . . . I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd done it. And to think I'd thought that she deserved what I did to her!
Forgive me, Suze. Please forgive me.
The blood was still on my hands. I couldn't get it off unless I washed it off, it was Shifter blood. It was beginning to burn on my ghostly skin, as the blood of a Shifter has been known to do. I stumbled blindly to her bathroom and washed it off. It ran down the sink in a randomly diluted scarlet swirl. I stared numbly. . .
Rage.
I'd been a slave to rage . . .
*
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man,
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
...
And no one knows what it's like
To be hated,
To be fated
To telling only lies.
...
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be.
I have hours,
Only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free.
...
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain, woe
Can show through
...
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated,
To be defeated
Behind blue eyes.
No one knows how to say
That they're sorry
And don't worry
I'm not telling lies.
...
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be.
I have hours,
Only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free.
...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man,
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
*
... Behind my eyes...
**************************************************************************** *******
I know that a lot of you will strongly disagree with this chapter. Now I'm totally stuck for ideas. I only kind of planned up to here . . . So any suggestions? Please feel free to rant and rave in your reviews, just make them long, because I love long ones . . . okay, that didn't sound right. Size doesn't matter, it's the quantity that counts . . . Once again, EW!
Okay, I'm scaring myself now . . .
Regards, Princess Roxanne.
PS: (Added on at a later date, after I posted all that ^.) I just wanted to say that I'm pretty sure I have a bullet proof plot for the rest of the story. It's not too crappy, and it's nothing too big yet. In the stories to come in this Paul/Jesse Swap Series, the plots are going to get darker, and even more unpredictable than this. Oh, and Heather's not quite gone yet . . . AND! I wanted to say a HUGE thanks to *Amelia Bedelia* for her endless ideas. You gave me so many! I'm think about using some, but I'm trying to fit them in so it will all work out to the idea I have planned for the VERY end. But thanks so much . . . You are like some miraculous cyber-muse. Lol...
Disclaimer: No lyrics belong to me from this chapter.
**************************************************************************** **************
Paul's POV
She just stood there. As if she had done nothing wrong. As if she was innocent . . .
Ha . . . Innocent my arse.
She didn't know that I'd seen her. With De Silva.
I saw a look of fleeting panic flash across her fragile features. Her eyes looked scared. They wouldn't leave mine. I saw her chest rising and falling, very fast. Just as it had been when she'd been in his arms, kissing him, wanting him.
Wanting him and not me.
I wasn't taking it too kindly.
There was no moon this night. Darkness blanketed us, thick and ominous. Her wrists were still bleeding. A single drop fell to her floor, leaving a tiny red dot on the ground. She continued to gaze at me, fear stirring behind her eyes.
Emerald, starry eyes that had captivated me, enticed me, fueled me . . .
Deceived me . . .
The bitch.
We remained motionless, staring at each other. Slowly, my anger was starting to rise again. She didn't say a word, as if she had nothing to say to make her actions seem like a terrible mistake. Soon, my anger turned to fury. Painful, hot and acidic in my stomach, corroding through me with such fire that it aroused the deadly temptation to kill again. To give me that power, that thrill, of claiming a life. And gradually, as the lethal silence burnt on, my fury turned to an overpowering white-hot rage that I'd never felt before. It was excruciating, slowly consuming ever nerve of my body, every muscle, ever thought.
My hands began to shake again, and I ground my teeth together, trying to hold back this impulse to . . . destroy.
This rage, it was unbearable! But, as it conquered me, I found it to be . . . empowering.
And deadly addictive.
An eternity seemed to pass, when she finally opened her lips. Lips that had touched another's . . .
His.
'I . . . '
She lost her confidence. I saw her shaking, but not in the way that I was. She was terrified. And so she should be . . . She had no idea what she'd done, and how much it mattered.
I swallowed hard. 'Yes, Susie?' I said, my voice a fatal whisper. It cut her like a knife. Her fear intensified.
'I . . . ' she stuttered, 'I . . . heard what Heather said. She said you slept with her. It's true, isn't it?' Her eyes studied me with supreme dread.
I ignored what she said. My shaking fists were clenched so tightly that my blunt nails were digging into my flesh. The need for violence made my chest seize up into a tight, aching knot. I could barely breathe, but I didn't need to.
'I saw you,' I told her coldly, preserving my menacing stance.
Three words. Three tiny little words that had so much impact on her. All at once, her mouth opened into the tiniest O, and her eyes glazed over in horror, and her hands twitched, and her breathing quickened dramatically, and she stepped back.
Oh no you don't . . .
'Paul,' she said, her voice unnaturally high, 'I can explain, I can-'
'Oh, you don't need to explain, Suze,' I smiled stiffly. But I could think of nothing less funny in my whole existence. It certainly wasn't funny what I was going to do to her. I took a step towards her, oh so slowly. 'I understand completely . . . '
She backed away. 'No, it's not like that, I swear-'
'Come on, Suze,' I slid my tongue over my dry lips and took another step closer. 'It's exactly like that, and you know it.'
'No, Paul, stop,' she breathed frantically, choking, 'You have to understand, I didn't-'
'But Suze, you did,' I said tonelessly. She shook her head madly, so her hair swayed from side to side.
'No, no,' she whispered, breaking eye contact with me at last. She looked wildly, anywhere but at me.
'You've been bad . . . '
Her eyes snapped back to me in alarm. I saw her pupils zoom into microscopic black dots. Shadows played darkly across her face. She retreated. I advanced on her until she was right against her wall, crushing her there with my body. She moaned softly. I placed my hands on the wall either side of her head. She stared up at me, petrified. Another rush of this wonderful, turbulent rage surged into me, pulsing through me so forcefully I almost couldn't stand it. But I didn't let it defeat me. I was too strong and too provoked to not exploit it. I felt like I was surfing horrible yet brilliant waves of pleasure.
I stroked her hair a little, careful that I didn't rip it out in my wrath. 'You kissed him,' I said forthrightly. 'You enjoyed it. You let him touch you. You don't let me touch you like that.' My nostrils flared, and my lip curled a little. Reigning in this killer emotion was harder than anything I could ever imagine. I just wanted to release it. Let it run wild.
Around the room, things began to shake. Posters on the walls ripped off, ornaments fell and shattered on the hard ground, and the bulb in her light smashed loudly. She let out a short, loud scream, but I quickly put a finger on my lips.
'Paul,' she said levelly, pushing my hand away. 'Don't. You're angry, you'll do something that you'll regret. Just go, before you break any more of my stuff.'
I laughed at that. It was a flat, humourless laugh that echoed dully around the room. I could feel her quivering beneath me.
'Oh, Suze,' I sneered, 'Don't worry about me breaking your stuff . . .' I moved my lips near her ear, and said in a dangerous hiss, '. . . worry about me breaking you.'
I felt her tense up, and she turned her head away from me. 'Paul, stop this- '
'No,' I snarled suddenly with viciousness. 'You deserve this!'
With that, I shoved her roughly sideways. She screamed loudly, and crashed into her bedside table, breaking it cleanly. A bit of wood very shallowly stabbed her in the stomach. Oh, I savoured that scream, so shrill, so terrified and pleading. It was luscious. She deserved this, all of it . . . It was her own fault . . .
'Paul, don't!' she cried raggedly. She tried to crawl away, but I grabbed her foot and pulled her back. Molten rage exploded all around me, and I saw fire everywhere I looked. Dancing, black flames, crackling evilly, giving no light. And Suze was crying. I kneeled down over her, and smacked her face. She deserved it all . . .
'I loved you!' I snarled. 'Don't you understand that? Love?'
'You don't love me, and you never could,' she retorted. You have to have a heart to love-'
I slapped her again, and she shrieked. I straddled her as she squirmed, desperate to get away . . . But I could tell she wanted this. She knew she had it coming . . .
~* She had it coming
She had it coming
She only had herself to blame.
If you'd have been there
If you'd have seen it
I bet you, you would
Have done the same . . . *~
' . . . Paul, please!' she screamed. I went to grab her wrists so she would stop struggling, but she began whacking me in the chest. I finally caught her wrists, and she yelled in pain. I remembered the rope cuts she had on them. Oh well, it was her own fault for letting Heather knock her out.
'You knew I loved you,' I spat at her sourly, 'and still, you went out and found him? I told you who killed me, and you went to HIM to get your kicks. Well, Suze, that's just WRONG.'
She screamed hysterically as I ripped her black cotton top open by the neck. 'AH! Please, please! Don't! Please, Paul, please,' she moaned, still thrashing about. Myriad tears were running down either side of her eyes like jewels, and her face was scrunched up in pain. Her whole body was shaking, and a bit of her black bra was exposed. 'No, Paul! Please, please- '
Stupid devious bitch . . . All her fault. She was asking for this terrible pain. She was panting for punishment . . .
She managed to kick me off then, God knows how, and tried to wriggle away towards the window on her stomach. 'No, no, no . . . ' she gasped and panted in terror.
Oh no you don't . . .
I dived on top of her again, and twisted her forcibly around to face me by her shoulders. I almost squashed them in my killer grip. She cried out in pain, sobbing recklessly.
'You DO love me, you just don't know it. You've felt it before, Suze. When I kissed you . . . I felt it, and so did you. You know you did! You don't love Jesse De fricken Silva! You LOVE ME!' I roared vituperatively, bashing her head against the ground. Her eyes rolled up into her head, but came back. I didn't want her unconscious. I wanted to make her suffer for what she'd done . . .
What she was doing to me still.
'Oh, and that makes it okay for you to go sleeping around, does it?' she gasped.
Bitch!
I punched her in the head.
'Please, someone help!' she screamed. There was no use calling for help. Everyone was out. I'd checked. I didn't know where they were, but I didn't care. We were alone . . .
'Please!' she wailed . . .
~* She had it coming
She had it coming
She had it coming all along.
I didn't do it
But if I'd done it,
How could you tell me that I was wrong? *~
Suze crossed her arms over her chest, yelping and wailing in terror. I fed from it, taking pleasure in every ear-splitting cry. She deserved it . . . I seized her bloodied wrists, as she was screaming, and forced them away from her chest. I slammed them on the ground. She tried to pull them away, but she was too weak by then. She arched her back, screaming and crying. Her legs were kicking and flailing wildly beneath me. She wouldn't give up thrashing though. Wouldn't give up the struggle. Soon she would. Soon she would have to accept the consequences of her actions. Her breath was ragged and rapid. I was sinking into the darkness in my own heart. I shut my eyes with a sick grin, relishing her undreamt of horror. My stiffened hands snaked around her neck, and began constricting. Her eyes went dead blank with hopelessness.
If I couldn't have her, no one could . . . NO ONE!
'Time to end this,' I growled at her, leaning into her heavily, squeezing her throat as my rage exploded. I roared in her face, thunderous and ultimate. I felt her pain channeling through me, as it stimulated me. 'Bye, sweetheart . . . '
'Get off! Paul, please, you're hurting me!'
Tears.
She deserved it . . .
'Ah! Stop! Someone help!'
Blood.
It was her fault . . .
'Please!! Paul, don't!'
The screaming wouldn't stop . . .
She had it coming . . .
'STOP IT! OW! PLEASE! PLEEEEE-EEEE-EEAASE!!!!' she howled in pure despair.
Her terror was so addictive!
She was choking . . . she –
Dematerialized.
~*~
Suze's POV
The last thing I saw in that room was Paul's face an inch away from mine with a fire in his icy blue eyes I'd never seen before. It was a dangerous, deadly fire, intended to kill. His temple had been pulsing madly, and his face was contorted in an ugly twist. I knew that he was going to kill me, as soon as he said, "I saw you."
But I couldn't get out. He wouldn't let me escape . . .
And just when I knew he was going to take me forever, the energy of my fear, I dunno, must have made me materialize. Like what Jesse said with that calling thing, that it happened in a time of great terror or something . . .
Whatever happened, it had saved my life.
I'd materialized to the rectory. I don't know why, it just seemed the place where I'd be safest. I could hide behind Father Dom, and let him protect me. Jesse was never to know about this. If he did, well . . . look, he wasn't going to know, all right?
I swayed my way to Father Dom's little house thingie, and knocked weakly on the door. Hey? I'd taken a pretty freakish battering that night. I was having trouble breathing, and my wrists were really bloody now, after the way Paul had been grabbing and twisting them . . .
Those ruthless blue eyes flashed in my mind's eye as vividly as if they were right in front of me. The deadliness was crystal-clear. He had been ready to kill me, to torture me . . .
I screwed up my face against the throbbing pain in my skull. What with Heather's Paul antics, and Paul bashing me against the ground, I was pretty dizzy. Most people would have been rendered unconscious if that had have happened, but us mediators have like, a small immunity to that. Granted, yes, Heather knocked me out cold with one blow that first time she caught me off guard, but that had been lucky for her.
God, when was Father Dom planning to open this door?!
I knocked harder and rowdily on the door. 'Father Dom!' I yelled, my vision swaying. Oh, where was he? I wouldn't last much longer . . .
Then, I heard the most beautiful sound in my life – footsteps.
The door opened, and a tired looking, tall, snowy haired priest stood blinking at me, right before his expression moulded to a horrified one.
Oh, it truly was a divine sight to see . . .
'Susannah!' he gasped. 'What – what happened?!'
'Good mornin' . . .' I said woozily, and promptly fell face first into his chest, out for the count.
~*~
I was only out cold for about five minutes. I know, he was kind of still yelling 'Susannah! Wake up!'
I blinked mistily at him. Everything was a little fuzzy.
'Oh, hi,' I burbled groggily. I guess I was lying on his sofa. I looked around. Everything was very classy, and old-man like, with lots of shades of brown and stuff. Ugh . . . You know the kind. Old people's homes always have 'em. I think it's horrible, personally, but who am I to go all interior decorator on him? But like I said, it was classy too, with the blacks and white everywhere . . .
Oh, my priorities are just FINE.
'Susannah,' he said, relieved I wasn't dead or something. 'Oh dear, what have you done to yourself?'
'Nothing,' I said, surprised. 'Do you think I would do this to myself on purpose? I didn't do it-'
'No, I meant that as in, what happened? Why are your wrists bleeding. And your face, it's simply black and blue.'
I tried to focus my eyes on him. There were two upset Father Doms standing in front of me, merging in and out of each other as my vision crossed drowsily. A warm yellow light flooded his living area. I looked down and saw that my wrists were still dripping stubbornly.
Oh great, I was staining the carpet . . .
'Sorry,' I muttered guiltily, sitting up and putting my red ringed wrists in my lap –
OW.
Shit, sat up too fast . . . Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. The pain was overwhelming. I felt so deadened, like I had a numbing anaesthetic pumping through my body, everywhere but my head. Oh, God . . .
Father Dom frowned heavily, then rushed to get a first aid kit. He came striding back hurriedly, and within five painful minutes, I had muffin-man hands. Oh, joy, weren't these attractive? I looked like the spawn of Puffin Fresh . . . Then, he moved onto where the stake of wood had gored me. Father Dominic, not Puffin Fresh. But by God, it hurt so badly. He awkwardly smeared a numbing alcohol wipe on my side just beside my belly button, and then fixed the wound up with this white material stuff. I winced as he applied it.
'You really should go to a hospital, you might need stitches-'
'No!' I said. 'I'll be fine. I heal quickly, it'll be great, Padre. Just, not a hospital. They'll call mum, she can't know about this . . .'
He looked at me as if I was daft. Probably was, mind.
I glared at my hands, but no, scowling hurt too much . . . I settled with a soft pout. He gave me a tablet that I assumed was a little stronger than an Aspirin, because the throbbing pain completely went by the next half an hour.
Finally, we were sitting down on his couch. I was staring sadly into space, trying hard not to think about what had just happened . . . I didn't want to, but everywhere, I just kept seeing those blue eyes, glaring at me. They had been nothing short of murderous. That image would take a lifetime to fade from my memory. I could still plainly see the bubbling rage that shone intensely from his eyes with a burning fire that seemed to decay my hope. I had been vulnerable and powerless against a rage as strong as that . . .
'Susannah,' he said, breaking the awful silence that stung me, 'You are going to tell me what happened, right?'
I still gazed stonily at the bloodstain on his carpet. It was my blood. 'No, not really . . . '
'Susannah,' he said in a deeply sad yet chiding tone, 'Please tell me what is going on. I need to know, if I am to help you-'
'I don't need help,' I said, 'I'm dealing with it.'
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. 'Oh, dealing with it very well, Susannah. Yes.'
I crossed my muffin-handed arms irritably. 'Okay, this was all Heather. She's gone now. She's in Purgatory.'
His eyes bugged out. 'You exorcised her?! After I specifically told you not to, Susannah! Why didn't you just leave her to me? I would have collaborated silently, and none of this violent nonsense would have happened. You're not invincible, you know, as much as you think you are.'
'Ah, the beauty of hindsight,' I said tetchily. 'Ah no, she would have beat the shit out of you too. Oops, sorry, not allowed to say shit, right? Shit's like, a sin to say to a priest or something, isn't it?'
His hands twitched. 'One would think you would've stopped saying it by now,' he said indifferently.
Then his face broke into a huge smile.
'Oh, Susannah, I'm just glad you're alive,' he said warmly, and gave me a gently hug. He smelt very church, with a strong aroma of inscense on him. I felt very safe all of a sudden. Safe from ghosts.
And safe from Paul . . .
'I'm not sure how you're going to explain this to your mother,' he muttered, and let go of me carefully. 'Well, I'll drive you home-'
'No!' I shouted instantly, but regretted it straight away.
He stopped dead and eyed me suspiciously. 'Why?'
Screw the sinning . . . I was in deep shit . . .
**************************************************************************** ********
Paul's POV
Where . . . where'd she go?
WHERE DID SHE GO?!
I wasn't done with her yet! I leapt up and staggered to the window, holding onto the frame so hard, that the wood almost crushed in my grasp. I panted as the cold air bitterly filled my lungs.
'Get back here!' I roared into the darkness of the night. My head was pumping with rampant adrenaline –
Until I saw my hands . . .
They . . . they were covered.
In blood.
Suze's blood . . .
From her wrists.
It had stained my hands. Dark, dripping, red and thick . . .
. . . Time froze, still as death itself . . .
I stared at it, and as quickly as it had built up, the rage left me entirely. I sank down to my knees, still staring at my hands. At my very own hands.
My God . . . what had I done?
WHAT HAD I DONE?!
My God . . .
I'd been so seduced by the unrivaled, intoxicating power, and I'd been easy prey to a deadly passion. I'd let the rage hijack me.
And I'd almost killed her . . .
I loved her, and I'd almost killed her . . .
What had I done?
Oh God . . .
I'd just been so angry!
I blinked at the window, at the pane of glass exploded into a thousand splinters with a tinkling shatter. The rage had been so ensnaring . . . Seeing her with De Silva . . . After he'd killed me . . . It wasn't meant to be this way . . . I was supposed to use Suze to get revenge on HIM, not the OTHER FRIGGING WAY AROUND!!
. . . Or maybe he was controlling her to get back at me. Yeah, that's right.
And I'd blamed her for it all.
What had I done?
Oh God. I was so close to murdering her . . . The woman that I had grown to love . . . I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd done it. And to think I'd thought that she deserved what I did to her!
Forgive me, Suze. Please forgive me.
The blood was still on my hands. I couldn't get it off unless I washed it off, it was Shifter blood. It was beginning to burn on my ghostly skin, as the blood of a Shifter has been known to do. I stumbled blindly to her bathroom and washed it off. It ran down the sink in a randomly diluted scarlet swirl. I stared numbly. . .
Rage.
I'd been a slave to rage . . .
*
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man,
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
...
And no one knows what it's like
To be hated,
To be fated
To telling only lies.
...
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be.
I have hours,
Only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free.
...
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain, woe
Can show through
...
No one knows what its like
To be mistreated,
To be defeated
Behind blue eyes.
No one knows how to say
That they're sorry
And don't worry
I'm not telling lies.
...
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be.
I have hours,
Only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free.
...
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man,
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.
*
... Behind my eyes...
**************************************************************************** *******
I know that a lot of you will strongly disagree with this chapter. Now I'm totally stuck for ideas. I only kind of planned up to here . . . So any suggestions? Please feel free to rant and rave in your reviews, just make them long, because I love long ones . . . okay, that didn't sound right. Size doesn't matter, it's the quantity that counts . . . Once again, EW!
Okay, I'm scaring myself now . . .
Regards, Princess Roxanne.
PS: (Added on at a later date, after I posted all that ^.) I just wanted to say that I'm pretty sure I have a bullet proof plot for the rest of the story. It's not too crappy, and it's nothing too big yet. In the stories to come in this Paul/Jesse Swap Series, the plots are going to get darker, and even more unpredictable than this. Oh, and Heather's not quite gone yet . . . AND! I wanted to say a HUGE thanks to *Amelia Bedelia* for her endless ideas. You gave me so many! I'm think about using some, but I'm trying to fit them in so it will all work out to the idea I have planned for the VERY end. But thanks so much . . . You are like some miraculous cyber-muse. Lol...