Terror on Gay Street: Halloween Nightmare
Chapter Six: Fresh cuts and bruises
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or Metal Gear
"Come one," said Ocelot quite cheerfully as he spun the giant bowie knife in his hand, "Who wants to be first to try Dr. Ocelot's famous cure?"
Jasper writhed in the grasp of the magic chain of pages that Ocelot had set on him. Edward however, seemed strangely unresponsive. It was like seeing Ocelot here had just caused him to shut down. In his eyes there was no recognition, and Ocelot found it very disappointing. He was hoping that he'd be feared.
Licking his lips with a pale blue tongue, Ocelot looked at Edward hungrily, "How about you, precious? A minute ago you were afraid; do I have to remind you why you ought to fear me?" His fingers tightened around the hilt of his knife.
As if suddenly remembering who Ocelot was, Edward lunged for the little table that the phone stood on. Frantically he flung open the drawer on it and rifled around with manic speed.
Ocelot chuckled when Edward found nothing. He outright laughed when the young man threw himself ontot he floor and tried to reach for something he had taped underneath the living room table.
"I took the liberty of removing all five guns you had hidden around the house," he informed. Edward instantly looked downfallen and cold as ice. His hands clenched as if he wanted one of those guns that he thought could bring security from the madman before him. Yet his face still kept that helpless "lost child" type look.
Ocelot passed his knife from hand to hand. Oh all the delightfully wicked things he was going to do to these kids. Lord Satan would be so happy with what he had in mind.
Jasper howled like a raging animal. But after the loud revelry of the weekend, it was doubtful that anybody in the neighborhood would notice or care about his racket at his early hour.
Ocelot was getting impatient, foreplay was fun but he really needed to get working. "Come one," he demanded painfully, "Where's the spirit, where's the love and the fear?"
He addressed them with the flourish of a classic stage actor. Ocelot was just playing his role, as they played theirs. He feighed confusion before the two broken men, "I thought that you two loved each other more than life itself?"
He then turned to Edward, "Oh I understand," as he ran a gloved hand down the edge of the blade. "You don't like your boyfriend anymore because of what he's become; a stinking, capitalist vampire."
"He's not my boyfriend," Edward said in a hollow whisper, light and empty as stale air in a cave.
"Eh?" Ocelot suddenly felt confusion come upon his mind. This was one scenario that even his twisted and convoluted mind did not foresee.
Edward felt like he wanted to just rip into the floor with his bare hands and dig a deep, dark hole where he could hide forever. He couldn't do that, so he did the next most impossible thing. He admitted to Ocelot what was really happening. "He's not anything to me because we broke up." Edward raised his head.
Jasper was treated to an accusing glare from Edward. This was the first and only time that Edward had given him a look of hate. And for all his vampire teeth, claws and strength, under Edward's hollow, betrayed glare he felt as weak as a puppy. Suddenly, it dawned on him the full extent of what his words had done to Edward and it tore him apart. It was hardly one one-thousandth of the duress Edward felt when his true love came back from the dead seemingly for the sole purpose of breaking up.
Ocelot was genuinely confused now. Distractedly he began to scratch his unfeeling, necrotic ear. "How the hell did you break up? He and I both died on the same day."
Then ocelot had a revelation, and his pale, dead face split into a wide grin. "I understand," he gloated, "one look at his freakish visage and you screamed in terror like the damsel you are."
Ocelot nodded, pleased with his own cleverness, "Well, love is ninety percent physical, after all." He purred with satisfaction.
"No," whispered Edward again, once more throwing Ocelot for a loop.
Edward's eyes just stared out into space, seeing right through both Jasper and Revolver Ocelot. Tears began to silently fall from his eyes. He looked once more at Jasper before his vacant stare returned. "Jasper doesn't want me?"
Ocelot was stunned by this revelation. He looked to Edward and Jasper and back again. Finally he stared at Jasper and asked, "What is he talking about?"
Jasper winced, he felt like he was standing in a beam of sunlight. Once, a year ago he'd accidently been trapped out during daylight. It was torturous, stuck in that one little speck of shadow while the murderous sun lazily danced across the sky on appollo's chariot. Every inch of exposed skin on his body felt like he had a thousand hot needles being driven into it. His hair fell out as if standing under a radioactive beam and blood poured from his body like sweat.
Given the choice between being burned by the sun again and confessing to what he'd done, he'd choose the sun. He'd always choose the yellow death over his confession of guilt.
When Jasper spoke, it wasn't in the growl of the vampire nor the smooth seductive voice he'd been given in his second life; instead, he sounded just like he'd done when he was human. Just like he sounded when he was flawed, weak, mortal and everything that Edward needed. "I told him I didn't want him."
Ocelot shook his head to make sure that some piece of Bree Tanner's brains didn't get stuck in his ear by accident. Though he could swear for a moment that he could hear something rattle in his skull. With bulging eyes, he demanded, "You said that?"
The dastardly Russian Spy laughed with disbelief. Jasper's shamed silence told him everything. "After all you've been through that's what you say?" He was truly at a loss for words, "Even for a man like me, that's cold."
Ocelot was truly horrified at the idea that a person could go up to the person who meant most to them in the whole wide world; but like a kid on a roller coaster, horror quickly turned into a thrill. "Fantastic!" he hissed with glee.
His arms fell to his side, loose and relaxed as he gazed upon his victims. "So let me see that I understand you," Zombie Ocelot said with his catlike grin. "You came here and told this little fag," he flashed a hungry smile at Edward, "That you didn't want him; that you were throwing him away like a piece of garbage, that you discarded him like a used condom."
Ocelot chuckled long and hard as the black bile stained his teeth, "In short, you fucked him and left him; like I do all the time."
Jasper roared and snapped his teeth at Ocelot. The vampire's translucent, razor sharp teeth closed on thin air but the power behind those jaws must have been fantastic by the sound of the snap. "IT WAS NOTHING LIKE THAT!" Jasper said in the voice of a hungry wolf. "I did it because I loved him!"
Close to Jasper, more tears fell from Edward's eyes. "You 'loved' me," past tense. As in he dind't love anymore.
Ocelot was so pleased with these events! He was so happy he felt like he was going to grow butterfly wings and flutter off to heaven. "Why don't you ask him?" he pointed at Edward, he asked in a saccharine voice.
Edward recoiled from Ocelot's pointing finger as if it were a gun
Ocleot grinned as he watched Edward suck on the barrel of his revolver
"Really?" said Ocelot with a batch of sarcasm that could put a teenager to shame. "Does this look okay to you?" He took his knife and threw it into the wood of the coffee table, where it stuck. And without any warning he swooped down like a hawk and grabbed Edward by the neck.
"Let go of me!" shrieked Edward. Between venomous snakes in his underpants and Ocelot touching him he'd choose the snakes any day. He struggled under Ocelot's grip but the Zombie's dead hands were like pieces of cold iron inside his gloves. A little pinch of Edward's larynx caused the young man to gasp and choke. Soon his vision began to turn black around the edges.
Jasper stopped struggling as he watched his love in the grip of a twisted, sadistic zombie. He'd never seen a zombie but he'd heard stories about them. In this very moment, Jasper was feeling the same pain, frustration and sense of unfairness that Edward was feeling when he broke it off.
Ocelot's grin grew ever wider as he got a terribly clever, and I mean terrible idea. "Do you want me to spare the delicate daisy?" He said as he manoevered Edward into a painful arm lock.
Edward yelled out in pain and indignation but the Zombie Russian had all the power here.
Jasper felt the words catch in his throat. For once, he was frozen in indecision. He wanted Edward to live but he knew that he couldn't trust this slippery snake. He knew that no matter what he did Ocelot would never let them live.
But his logical assessment went out the window when Ocelot drove his thumb into Edward's eye.
For Jasper there could be no more horrible sound than hearing Edward make that high pitched squeal of pain and helplessness.
Ocelot was still smiling but now his smile was a mask for his terrible, vengeful rage. "You'll do what I say or else I'll pop the eyes out of his head,": he hissed.
"Please," Jasper begged. God, now was the perfect time to beg. "I'll do whatever you want."
Ocelot smiled but now it had a tint of confusion to it. It was as if the heat of the moment he'd forgotten whatever it was that he wanted beyond the submission and humiliation of his enemies. Then he started to work something out. "I want you to . . . ." he let the statement hang as he pretended to think it out.
Ocelot licked his frozen lips with his thick, bloated tongue, coating them with the black ichor. "I want you to tell him," he squeezed Edward's neck tighter, "exactly what you told him earlier when you two broke up."
Jasper choked, and suddenly a great wave of shame and sickness flooded over him. This miasma of negative of emotion wasn't from without but within. Jasper had so long been bombarded with the rage and guilt of others that now he'd almost forgotten how much it hurt when one truly felt remorse for one's actions.
His long brass claws scratched futiley against the magic pages holding him in place but ot no avail. He began to choke out words, hoping to stall Ocelot long enough to break out or find some way to break the magic spell. "I told him that he wasn't safe with me, that we couldn't go on like before," he said in a hoarse voice, but that wasn't what Ocelot wanted to hear.
"No!" he growled in frustration. Ocelot then took his hand from Edward's eye and grabbed him by the hair; where then he slammed his head into the ground.
"stop it!" Jasper screamed from the bottom of his soul. Tears of blood ran down his face and out of his nose. He began to sob uncontrollably. "Please—I'm begging you, just stop!"
"WHY SHOULD I!" Ocelot screamed, flecks of black ichor flying from his mouth and staining his teeth. He began to pant like a hungry dog. One eyelid remained half open while the other blinked spastially. His teeth chattered, though it wasn't from cold.
Standing up, Ocelot planted his boot on Edward's neck and pressed down just enough to give the boy the bare minimum of air.
Edward struggled, but he ceased when he saw his once lover, now vampire, weeping like a child. Edward could amost feel his humiliation, hurt and loneliness shatter. Against all odds, against everything that had happened—even against those awful words that Jazz had spoken, he still wished for nothing more than to walk across the living room and comfort the crying monster was still had his true love buried somewhere in him.
In a starined voice, Ocelot made his demands perfectly clear. "You have no power, no agency. I have everything," he ground his teeth together so hard that Edward could hear the tips of his teeth cracking, "And I still want more. So either you tell me what I want or . . . or . . ." he let the statement hang.
The black ichor was pouring out of Ocelot's mouth like a faucet and falling onto edward's face. Choking and struggling, the boy tried in vain to wipe it off.
Ocelot suddenly became aware of his own foul drooling and tried to wipe it with the back of his hand, once, twice, three times. He looked at the black ooze on his glove with numb disbelief; as if he could hardly even believe what he'd become.
"I don't want you," came the quiet admission, along with the sound of Jasper's soul shattering forever.
Ocelot put a finger behind his ear and tapped it a bit, as if he were having hearing problems? "Sorry, what was that?" he said in a smartass voice.
"I said I don't' want you."
But Jasper should have known that Ocelot wasn't done twisting the knife. "You'll have to talk a little louder. I'm an old man," he laughed.
"I don't want you!"
Ocelot looked so full of shit, with that silly grin on his face. "Lou—der!"
"I DON'T WANT YOU! I DON'T WANT YOU! I said I didn't want him, now for the love of god, please let him go. Kill me but just let him go! There's no hope for us, so just go away!"
The black ichor had stopped, though Ocelot still had a big smear of it on his pale chin. The look on his face was one of complete and utter satisfaction; of a man who'd read 1984 and seen not a warning against tyranny but a manual for world domination.
His eyes narrowed with pleasure and his features tightened. Zombie Ocelot threw back his head as if he were about to laugh. His body shook and his hands clenched. He took his boot off of Edward's neck and stepped back.
"YES!" Ocelot cried orgasmically, "THAT WAS GREAT!"
He took a deep breath and exhaled, grinning from ear to ear. "That was good," he breathed, "I need a cigarette after that."
He then looked straight at Jasper, who wept bright red blood. "Yuou're a piece of shit, did you know that?" That was a lie, calling him a piece of shit would only elevate Ocelot.
The vampire had stopped crying, but more than ever he wanted to curl into a fetal ball and die. Now he knew how Edward felt when he told him "I don't want you."
Ocelot ran a hand through his hair. "You took the person you loved the most and stabbed him right I the heart. Frnakly, you disgust me." And he meant it.
Then Zombie Ocelot had a choice. He could have just walked away. He'd already won. He'd totally and utterly crushed his enemies. Neither Jasper nor Edward had anything left to live for. Their dreams were dead and the love they shared was thoroughly poisoned and it was dubious that it'd ever go back to what they once had. Trust had been broken never to be mended.
Both of them could have just died right then and there. And with the sun starting to peek over the horizon, Jasper could just burn in the sun due to his own inaction and Edward might just roll over and die; wounded, weary and lost.
But this was Ocelot, and zombie or not; the old man's greed and sadism demanded more.
So with a bright grin, he grabbed the giant knife he'd stuck into the living room coffee table and spun it in his hand like a knife expert.
"So," said Zombie Ocelot cheerfully, "Edward, let's see what you spine looks like."
Sorry for the long delay :D But hoped this was morbid enough for you :) I was a little disadvantage, as I've never felt such misery as Ed and Jazz are going through, so i had to really reach. The next chapter will have Ocelot try to remove Edward's spine, will Ed escape? Let's fine out :D Until then, my next piece of work will be my deadliest warrior story and the Big Hellsing.
ta
Master of the Boot