Disclaimers: no camel, no own, no happyness.
Warnings: this chapter itself.. the only warning should be 'confusing' but other then that this chapter isn't really bad and all.
Oh, and I updated I think chapter 6 and seven. (made them better, I reread them and I thought they sucked. So I updated them. If you want to read go ahead, most stayed the same I just added some more description and more interestinish thoughts.)
I lock eyes with Quatre. I grinned, evily, sadistically, the smirk creeping up into my eyes, filling them with a life that isn't my own.
He didn't look scared. He didn't really look like he was feeling anything. He looked like I feel.
The look didn't suit him. He doesn't look right being so vacant, his eyes are usually brimming with emotion. Weather it be happiness, sadness, or anger. He always manages to nearly scream how he's feeling just by opening his eyes.
There needed to be something in his eyes, some emotion, something, something to make this real, he didn't look real.
Nothing looked real. And the empty look he had was… bone chilling. Unreal.
Fear.
He needed an emotion, needed something, anything. He needed fear.
Why my mind settled on that emotion, I don't know. It's a strong emotion, fear is what controls our life, not happiness, not sadness, fear.
Fear stops you from doing things as well as makes you do things. More then other emotions fear controls out actions. In fear there is barely a line between rational and irrational. Sanity and insanity are blurred by fear.
Fear suited him so well.
NO! Fear doesn't suit him… it really doesn't. But…. It… just… does.
I continued to stare at Quatre, stare to his eyes. Cold and empty, no trace of anything. It almost felt weird he could be this sick, to get this delirious.
"Quatre…" I said, well. More like I heard, the voice didn't sound like it was mine. It sounded to low, too smooth, like it had been practiced to perfection. It sounded different, cold too. Not empty, far from empty, cold, harsh, smooth, taunting even. It was different from my own voice, it didn't even feel like I said it.
He didn't respond, but more brought his gaze into focus and looked at me. He looked more like he was looking through me, real spaced out. I didn't like that either, looking like I wasn't even there.
He was tired, sick and delirious. And I am a monster.
He was looking at me like I wasn't even there. I wanted him to –see- me, to feel me. I wanted him to know who I was, what I was on the inside. I wanted him to see what I really was.
See what I wanted to do to him. I wanted him to look inside me and scream at what he saw, get so scared I wouldn't have to act out what I so desperately want to.
I want to scare him. I want to hurt him, watch him writhe in pain in such a sickeningly sweet way. Want to watch him bleed, watch him suffer.
I want him to look at me with fear, be afraid of me. Know that I can do what I want to him and he would have no power to stop me.
I want to have control of him.
And I plan to do exactly that.
"Hey Quatre," my voice says with uncharacteristic smoothness, "wanna play a little game?"
He didn't answer me. He didn't even flinch when I talked. His eyes were fixed on something past me.
I wondered, if he was in his own little world. Safe from harm, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. I wondered if he liked it there, wondered if he was happy. His eyes were still fixed behind me.
I wonder if his little world wasn't so happy. If maybe he wasn't oblivious to the world around him. Maybe his views of the world were even deeper then anyone else. Maybe his little world was this world, but instead of it being the world we all see. Maybe he sees past this world, -sees- this world, knows everything about it. Maybe he lives in his own little world. His own little hell.
Maybe his little world tortures him… maybe it doesn't.
Maybe he doesn't have a little world.
I didn't turn to see what he was looking at, my eyes were locked with his. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't… he was barely there.
I wondered how I looked. If I looked the same. If he could tell how… if he could tell how disconnected from this I felt. I wonder if he will remember this, if he will remember what I am. I wonder if he knows how much it will hurt me.
I wonder if I would be able to use it as an excuse.
I wonder…
I know.
I know! I know he's delirious, I know he cant think straight! I know he probably won't remember this in the morning!
I know he has a little world. We all do!
I know my fucked world is what makes me like this!!
*THUD*
Fuck.
Quatre's head had hit the wall sharply. I had him pinned against the wall.
He was blinking heavily as if he was trying to stay conscious.
I didn't even remember standing up.
I know I should stop this…
I've lost control.
Finally anopther chapter done… I was gonna make this a long one but I love the cliffhangers too much..
About the *THUD* lol, there's a story to that.. at first I wrote *THUNK* then I read what I wrote and nearly died laughing. So I went to ask my mom what noise a head makes when it gets bashed to a wall..she said 'splat' … I didn't like it so I went to my sister and told her to stand near a wall. She wouldn't.. I asked again and she still wouldn't. so I sat of the top part of a couch (the only way I could get near a wall) and promtly knocked my head into the wall. After I could ehar again .; I asked my sister what sound I made.. (here eyes were wide at the thought that I was gonna do that to her) then my mom and my sister at the same time said 'THUD' so I left, trying to walk straight, and typed *THUD* so if it sounds childish –YOU- bash your head into a wall.
*end rant*
REVIEW!!! I fixed it so it accepts everyone not hjust authours reviews, so you have no excuse not to. Please review!! If I don't get.. at least…. 2 -.- ;; (some people ask for like .. 10 or 20) I wont continue with the story. So please.. review!!!!!!!
Warnings: this chapter itself.. the only warning should be 'confusing' but other then that this chapter isn't really bad and all.
Oh, and I updated I think chapter 6 and seven. (made them better, I reread them and I thought they sucked. So I updated them. If you want to read go ahead, most stayed the same I just added some more description and more interestinish thoughts.)
I lock eyes with Quatre. I grinned, evily, sadistically, the smirk creeping up into my eyes, filling them with a life that isn't my own.
He didn't look scared. He didn't really look like he was feeling anything. He looked like I feel.
The look didn't suit him. He doesn't look right being so vacant, his eyes are usually brimming with emotion. Weather it be happiness, sadness, or anger. He always manages to nearly scream how he's feeling just by opening his eyes.
There needed to be something in his eyes, some emotion, something, something to make this real, he didn't look real.
Nothing looked real. And the empty look he had was… bone chilling. Unreal.
Fear.
He needed an emotion, needed something, anything. He needed fear.
Why my mind settled on that emotion, I don't know. It's a strong emotion, fear is what controls our life, not happiness, not sadness, fear.
Fear stops you from doing things as well as makes you do things. More then other emotions fear controls out actions. In fear there is barely a line between rational and irrational. Sanity and insanity are blurred by fear.
Fear suited him so well.
NO! Fear doesn't suit him… it really doesn't. But…. It… just… does.
I continued to stare at Quatre, stare to his eyes. Cold and empty, no trace of anything. It almost felt weird he could be this sick, to get this delirious.
"Quatre…" I said, well. More like I heard, the voice didn't sound like it was mine. It sounded to low, too smooth, like it had been practiced to perfection. It sounded different, cold too. Not empty, far from empty, cold, harsh, smooth, taunting even. It was different from my own voice, it didn't even feel like I said it.
He didn't respond, but more brought his gaze into focus and looked at me. He looked more like he was looking through me, real spaced out. I didn't like that either, looking like I wasn't even there.
He was tired, sick and delirious. And I am a monster.
He was looking at me like I wasn't even there. I wanted him to –see- me, to feel me. I wanted him to know who I was, what I was on the inside. I wanted him to see what I really was.
See what I wanted to do to him. I wanted him to look inside me and scream at what he saw, get so scared I wouldn't have to act out what I so desperately want to.
I want to scare him. I want to hurt him, watch him writhe in pain in such a sickeningly sweet way. Want to watch him bleed, watch him suffer.
I want him to look at me with fear, be afraid of me. Know that I can do what I want to him and he would have no power to stop me.
I want to have control of him.
And I plan to do exactly that.
"Hey Quatre," my voice says with uncharacteristic smoothness, "wanna play a little game?"
He didn't answer me. He didn't even flinch when I talked. His eyes were fixed on something past me.
I wondered, if he was in his own little world. Safe from harm, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. I wondered if he liked it there, wondered if he was happy. His eyes were still fixed behind me.
I wonder if his little world wasn't so happy. If maybe he wasn't oblivious to the world around him. Maybe his views of the world were even deeper then anyone else. Maybe his little world was this world, but instead of it being the world we all see. Maybe he sees past this world, -sees- this world, knows everything about it. Maybe he lives in his own little world. His own little hell.
Maybe his little world tortures him… maybe it doesn't.
Maybe he doesn't have a little world.
I didn't turn to see what he was looking at, my eyes were locked with his. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't… he was barely there.
I wondered how I looked. If I looked the same. If he could tell how… if he could tell how disconnected from this I felt. I wonder if he will remember this, if he will remember what I am. I wonder if he knows how much it will hurt me.
I wonder if I would be able to use it as an excuse.
I wonder…
I know.
I know! I know he's delirious, I know he cant think straight! I know he probably won't remember this in the morning!
I know he has a little world. We all do!
I know my fucked world is what makes me like this!!
*THUD*
Fuck.
Quatre's head had hit the wall sharply. I had him pinned against the wall.
He was blinking heavily as if he was trying to stay conscious.
I didn't even remember standing up.
I know I should stop this…
I've lost control.
Finally anopther chapter done… I was gonna make this a long one but I love the cliffhangers too much..
About the *THUD* lol, there's a story to that.. at first I wrote *THUNK* then I read what I wrote and nearly died laughing. So I went to ask my mom what noise a head makes when it gets bashed to a wall..she said 'splat' … I didn't like it so I went to my sister and told her to stand near a wall. She wouldn't.. I asked again and she still wouldn't. so I sat of the top part of a couch (the only way I could get near a wall) and promtly knocked my head into the wall. After I could ehar again .; I asked my sister what sound I made.. (here eyes were wide at the thought that I was gonna do that to her) then my mom and my sister at the same time said 'THUD' so I left, trying to walk straight, and typed *THUD* so if it sounds childish –YOU- bash your head into a wall.
*end rant*
REVIEW!!! I fixed it so it accepts everyone not hjust authours reviews, so you have no excuse not to. Please review!! If I don't get.. at least…. 2 -.- ;; (some people ask for like .. 10 or 20) I wont continue with the story. So please.. review!!!!!!!