N'AHAHAHAHA! Yes, YES, I'm still alive D Still very much alive and kickin' like an powerful mule.
Well... doesn't mean to say I'll be active a lot still, I'm such the story hopper I know not to start things unless I can finish them
Which in this case, I can, considering this be a lovely little oneshot. Myes.
I shall more or less, solely dedicate this piece to one of my bestest friends, Minerva 3 Not only because she's an amazing lassie who deserves a dedication, but it's also in commemoration of her 16th birthday. Hope y'have a good 'un, love ;
DISCLAIMER: Firstly, and obviously, I do not own Gravitation [much to my dismay If I did, I'd have the events described in the forthcoming oneshot actually happen 3 Seriously, Gravitation as you know it would be twisted to fuck.
Secondly, I do not own the little tid-bits of song in here, those lovely little tid-bits belong to Machine Head, and the title song, 'Now I Lay Thee Down'
Thirdly; there is a mention of an OC in this fic, of whom belongs to moi, and moi only 3
A brief pointer too, there will be a bloody, gory death portrayed herein, one you may not approve of at all... You have been warned...
NOW I LAY THEE DOWN
How on earth had it come to this...?
He knew fine well what he'd been doing the last year was rather on the dangerous side, however, for things to have been blown to such a proportion was preposterous to think... well, a few days beforehand it was... Oh how things can swiftly mutate from the bad to the absolute unthinkable in such a short space of time. Still, with murderous intent, a sharp blood-lust and thirst for the sight of another's blood, the small broken one knew exactly what he was doing...
Or did he?
He was just so shattered, so torn... Driven insane by the grief even. He couldn't even stay in those four walls he'd called his home the past year without falling to his knees in a crumpled heap, mourning the loss of the one he'd finally realized he truly loved... if only he'd realized it sooner, if only his own idiotic indecisiveness hadn't drove the other to take his own life so horribly. The guilt would ravage his soul. It would rip and stab and lacerate at his very being until he could take no more, until it rendered him totally helpless to its brutally slaughtering ways.
He needed to kill... if only to pacify this pain.
And pacification seemed totally necessary... for his own good and to possibly save the lives of everyone else not yet fell prey to his depravity, those who'd not yet seen how far the petite one was shoved with such rejection over the frayed ends of sanity. Well he could wait no longer, he could tarry not a moment more now as the need yanked at the back of his brain; that delicately put together plan of his dying to force itself into motion, the craving opening his previously closed amethyst eyes; their colour glimmering in an ominous light from the flame-lit candle by his bedside. Tonight it would be done. Tonight he'd have his way. Tonight he'd repay his lost love for being such a fool, in a plea for forgiveness sent out to his lost soul in the darkness.
Out in the midnight cold, the Arctic wind could have torn the skin to shreds, its freezing howls ripped at the body like daggers, like swords even, although no damage would come, no matter how deserving he felt of the bitter agony, his pale skin would only go raw and numb, until the wind's assault came of to no avail, and his presence by the smaller entity stalking the night to be totally pointless again.
Unlike planned of course, unlike what he'd vowed to do before leaving his empty home, unlike relaying the plan over and over in his head, going through every exact detail until he knew it like the back of his hand, his mind was set elsewhere, now his grievous mind could only see him, could only see his lost love, the one he'd mindlessly put to his death, the one he made take his own life. Another pang of guilt slashed through his gut again, the thought of Alastair's face the very last time he saw him breathing... He was smiling, smiling that cute affectionate way he always did, little did he know that'd be the smile that'd tear him apart. The thought of his smile caused tears to sting his eyes again, and again, to such an amplitude that crying was an agony.
He deserved it, that's all he could think.
Well while we're being honest, it was indeed sort of his fault. He was the one who kept Alastair out there on a very thin string, then again, he'd hold another rope also. Just how he was indecisive, he'd never been able to quite break it off with Yuki... no... In his heart, he knew fine well who he wanted to be with, the one who really loved him back, the one who'd put his life to an end to keep his love happy, the one who took his life because Shuichi Shindou was too late.
These ropes seemed strong at first though, like sturdy reins he could pull and push as he pleased, little did he know the effect the ones on the other end would have. Looking back, he was sure of himself that he'd let go of Yuki sooner or later, then it'd just be him and Alastair with no worries at all any more... but no... no things hadn't gone as planned, for Alastair's rope withered and snapped with all the yo-yoing the poor confused Shuichi did, and only to plummet to his death, Shuichi could do nothing to stop Alastair's imminent suicide.
Only grieve and put his soul to peace.
So he'd trod on, his tears drying and staining his heated cheeks, his expression lifted to face directly in the path he was pacing, a new look of defiance pulled across his features. Forgiveness would come of this, he was sure of it.
Well we'll have to see, as only then did he stalk up to an old door now seldom passed, looked at or used by himself nowadays, and just to see if he could get inside the apartment any easier, he slowly pressed a rigid palm down on the cold, steel door handle and waited if he could hear any other sound.
CLICK!
Oh how pleasuring that sounded, that click that could possibly have been the line between someone's death, and someone's saviour. For should the door have been locked, then should the inhabitants life have been spared for then. For then. He'd only return with the same murderous intent later on.
Now as silently as he'd ever stalked before, he'd stealthily sneak through the door, slowly opening it so it'd not creak half as much as it normally would, and even more sneakily padding across the thin carpet, not bothering to take off his shoes, it wasn't like the elder one with the golden blonde hair could bite his head off for the mess when he was dead was it? Of course not, he'd make as much mess as he wanted, all the more besmirching for the novelist's name.
A rapid rise in tension seemed to ensue, the petite lad with the violet hair seemed to have become a lot more rigid within those few milliseconds of entry, he could feel his heart pounding and smashing against his ribs rhythmically, so loud he was scared the unsuspecting writer in the other room would hear the thudding, but it wasn't really possible; the horrid pounding seemed only audible unto the heart's owner, the now trembling, afraid Shuichi Shindou, now as he paced stealthily through the empty passageway, following the faint, muffled noise of the TV, the quiet sound of Yuki's fingertips scratching at his scalp tiredly.
This was it... it was now or never.
His shoes against the wooden flooring was practically silent, but it was just like his mind was fooling him to increase his confidence to stride on, it fooled him not, however he still went for it. The writers golden locks came into view, his inhuman, yellow eyes 'neath the strands of hair, blankly gazing into the idiot box on the other side of the room, it was like the man was asleep with his eyes open, not even a blink he gave, not a movement, or even a sound.
But it was then that the true inner demon began the bubble and boil up inside Shuichi, how the uncaring look on Yuki's face sent shivers turned heated fury up and down his now straightened spine. Oh yeah, this guy was going down for sure.
It was so scary how Shuichi's previously timid and sad expression could instantly turn into a violent, menacing glare, like an ember to inferno in one split second. And the wildfire wasted no time in spreading, as Shuichi made a more confident stride up behind the taller one, blade clutched by a strong hand – white knuckle tight.
"Oyasumi... nasai..." He'd whisper... and it was like no tone he'd ever used before. He sounded so macabre... so sinister, but so quiet at the same time, just one silent but deadly utterance before he committed the deed he'd set out to do...
The sound was horrific. As the pristine blade pierced into the taller ones back, driving right through his flesh in one swift jab, the blood-curdling shriek let out from the taller one's petrified self was enough to eternally emblazon itself into the other's head, one of those sounds you'd just never forget for the rest of your days... It'd be a crime to be so cruel though... but Shuichi only smirked at the sound, taking utmost pleasure from the anguish filled cries.
Blood came gushing. He must have severed some pretty main arteries... perhaps not enough to get the job done though, unfortunately. As if to tease him, torture his mind for the now, slowly he began to twist the blade in his back. The sound of the knife slashing and cutting away at his insides made him smile and snicker with much amusement, and he was glad to catch the other as he fell, as Yuki collapsed to his knees, his golden eyes wide and his skin pale, bloodless.
That would have been the last thing Yuki saw, the face he saw when his head lolled back against Shuichi's torso, that face of pure evil, a sinister glare and a twisted grin. No time for him to cry out or beg mercy though, his eyes only shifted a little more upward, only to catch sight of the bloodied blade withdrawn from his back, held high above his head, and before he could think twice, the blade had throttled down, like a guillotine, right into his neck, right through his jugular vein.
Dream Over.
A nice spurt of red came spewing from the gaping laceration, and in the few seconds Yuki had left of his now tarnished life, all he could do was let out a few strangled cries, choking on the blood seeping into his windpipe.
Dream No More.
Shuichi was much pleased when he caught sight of his dead expression, just a cold lifeless face with a lone silver orb trailing down his old skin; at least now he had the pleasure of knowing that Eiri Uesugi died crying too, that one thing he never did, that one thing nobody ever saw him do.
His body was dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, his skull cracking off the bloodstained floor, drenching his yellow locks in a dark crimson red... Reminiscent to the red of Alastair's hair Shuichi had thought – A somewhat pleasant sight, but not as memorable or as poignant as the very faint wisp of cold air breathed out from Yuki's agape mouth. His final.
And Breathe One Last Time...
He felt satisfied, he felt accomplished in his deed. He now felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his guilty shoulders... but it accompanied a horrid realization... No matter what he did, how hard he avenged the love lost, nothing he did would bring Alastair back, nothing in this world would let him see his face again, he was doomed to be alone... but at least now, he knew Alastair would be happy wherever he was, knowing that Shuichi killed for him, even though to no avail... but it wasn't enough.
Tears overpowered him again, as he too fell to the floor, to his knees at Yuki's lifeless side, his tears falling heavily into Yuki's pooling blood on the floor. He'd tarnished himself again... there was no will to go on it seemed. He couldn't even think straight then as he picked up the bloodied blade, taking in the sight of the few slices of mutilated flesh hanging from the stained silver... oh... how alluring... the blade now seemed, how pretty it looked now that it had took another's life... He wondered... what if it were to take another... the wielders, perhaps?
Yes, that was a brilliant idea.
Tears dried up, an odd expression now upon his haggard face, the tip of the knife turned against his person, and in one fell swoop was it embedded into his own heart, the breath and life jabbed out of him in the instant... Still as idiotic as that deed was, his final thought as his dying body fell onto the novelist's corpse... was that now, now he could be with Alastair forever... wherever he was roaming in that infinite afterlife, he'd hunt him down... for an eternal happy ending.
A smile graced his face now at peace as he closed his eyes, the grip around the blade loosening and letting it free. He'd done himself good today...
Now. I. Lay. Thee. Down...
KYAAAAAAAAHH! I'm sorry. Actually I apologise to most, you'd probably have found this as confusing as hell. I'M SORRY! Well, it is for Minnie, and I know she'll know what this is about, she'll get the idea and that's all I care about 3
If any of you are dying to know what this is about, just ask and I'll give you a rough idea, but anyway, REVIEWZ PLEZ!
- Boosh x