Hey guys, sorry for the long break. It's just that junior year has been getting on my nerves right now, and I have just discovered a newfound, burning, intense hatred for chemistry. But that's beside the point. Anyway, sorry for a short chapter, I just really need soem reviews to keep my inspiration/motivation up. So please please please review!!! And thank you to those who have put this story on their Fave/Alert lists!!! Mwah!
Chase had watched it all with a smug satisfaction, feeling a sense of power that had nothing to do with magic that coursed through his veins. At Caleb's words, his grin only grew wider. What Caleb crazy for thinking he could stop him? Who was he kidding? No one could stop him. He was Chase Collins; whatever he wanted, he got.
Caleb knelt on the ground silently in front of Sarah's floating form, taking her in. His eyes traced the soft curves of her lips and followed the gracefully cut form of her neck. His fingers itched to feel that soft skin under his one more time, but it would only hurt so much more if he had to let go again. So he just knelt there. Loving. Longing. Losing.
He didn't even see it. He only felt the crippling, shuddering blow that reverberated throughout his body and he fell to the side, releasing a chocked cough. Caleb's arms wrapped around his bruised torso so tightly his knuckles turned white from the effort and he bit down on his lip to silence the cry of pain that rose in his throat, feeling the coppery rush of blood in his mouth. Then slowly, he stumbled upright again.
"What's the matter, didn't get enough? You want more Caleb? Wanna show Sarah what you're made of?" Chase taunted, sending another, smaller wave of energy and laughed out loud and he saw a few drops of dark red staining the straw. In one stride, he had gripped Caleb by back of his neck. "Beg me!" he growled, jabbing his knee into Caleb's back and pulling viciously at his hair. "I won't allow you end this by yourself, I won't let you say the words, unless you beg me first!" And still the gray eyes were fixed upwards, revealing nothing except that ever-present grief.
"You can torture me all you want, Chase. You can threaten me, hit me, you can even kill me. But I will not beg for mercy. I will not plead for death." Chase yelled in frustration and he threw Caleb to the floor in a rage. Then his eyes landed on Sarah again…and blazed gold.
Suddenly, a pitchfork flew off its hanger on the wall.
It cut so fast though the air that Caleb only had time for a strangled "No!" before it stopped just short of Sarah's throat, its tallest tip scraping her skin. Chase grinned as he saw Caleb's horrified expression slip into defeated realization.
"Now what do we say, golden boy?"
He never thought it would come to this. Caleb stood on shaky feet, trying to hold back a cough and the blood that followed. One arm gripping one of his broken ribs, he stumbled over to Sarah, nearly collapsing. Weakly, he tried to displace the pitchfork with one hand. The barn echoed with Chase's mocking laughter.
"Aw, c'mon Caleb, don't be so hard on yourself. Just beg a little, and I pinky promise I'll say yes." Chase laughed raucously again, enjoying himself immensely.
"Please," came the whisper as he gazed at Sarah with adoring eyes, so soft Caleb could barely hear it himself. Chase's grin split his face wider.
"What was that?"
"Please," came the word, this time a bit louder.
"I can't hear you, Caleb! Please what?"
"Please—please let me say the words…." This time, they were forced and trembled with the effort to control himself. And still Chase pushed.
"Louder!"
Caleb finally exploded.
"FUCK IT Chase! Just let me say the goddamn words!!"
The barn was silent except for the crackling of fire and the rain that pelted the roof.
"What did you say to me?" came Chase's low voice, breaking the silence with a menacing undertone.
"You heard me," growled Caleb in return, his stance growing strong. "What else do you want? You've hurt me, tortured me, threatened me; you've torn me apart!! What else could you possibly—"
"I knew you would never understand, Caleb. You and your little over-privileged covenant," sneered Chase. "You would never be able to understand the confusion, the panic, the pain I felt during all those years. So many people calling me "freak" it became the only name I responded to. No one understood me…hell, I didn't even understand myself." He chuckled before his expression turned dark. "You couldn't possibly comprehend the amount of endurance it took to get through those years. Couldn't imagine how many times I tried to end it all myself but always woke up the next morning. Must've been nice, huh? Growing up together, all safe and sound, sheltered from the outside world. You had someone to talk to, someone to at least tell you what the hell was going on! Not everyone had that luxury, Caleb. And I'm upset." His eyes flashed. "Upset at the, inequality, of it all. So guess what, Caleb?" He walked closer still, until the two boys were nose to nose. "Party's over. It's payback time, and I must say…" Chase drove a fist into Caleb's bruised stomach, sending him to the ground. "…Revenge has never been sweeter."
Caleb wheezed on the floor, spitting out the coppery blood in his mouth. He looked up at Chase through eyes glazed over with raging hate.
"You have to be the single most self-absorbed, deranged and absolutelydisgusting excuse for a person I have ever laid eyes on." Caleb's crimson-stained lips curved upwards in a defiant grin. "Congratulations." The dark-haired boy staggered up again, much to Chase's surprise. "You make yourself sound like the world's most pitiable victim. 'They called me freak, I'm upset, I never had it as good.' Do the world a favor and fuck off, Collins; no one wants to listen to your bullshit. Look at you now. You've threatened my family and my friends' safety, made me beg to die, and you've kidnapped my girlfriend who currently has a fuckingpitchfork pointed at her throat. Who's the victim now, huh? Me or you?" Caleb let out a barking laugh, looking at the now vehement boy, quaking with anger. "Face it, Chase. It had nothing to do with your childhood, nothing to do with us, either. You're pointing fingers at all the wrong people, when the only person you have to blame is yourself. Deny it all you want, it won't make a difference. At the end of the day, you'll be all alone."
The words hit home. The sound that came out of Chase's throat was practically inhuman. Losing all control, he threw wave after wave of ferocious energy at Caleb, putting all his rage into the blows. The barn groaned anew as the balls of pure force played continuously at Chase's fingertips. By the time his anger subsided, Caleb was barely breathing.
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