EH... I'M BEGINNING TO WONDER, SEEING HOW PEOPLE HAVE STOPPED ALL UP TELLING ME WHAT THEY THINK, I'M JUST GOING TO TAKE A SHOT HERE IN THE DARK. MY WRIGGLING DAY IS GOING TO BE COMING UP SO I'LL POSTPONING ON UPDATING. I HAVE A LOT TO PLAN, I'LL BE 14. ANYWAYS, HERE YOU GO,
He walked out of the bathroom, clown makeup freshly applied. "Shit mother fucker, you cook?" He smelled the air. You set a plate down. His eyes sparkled. "Miracles bro..." He chuckled.
"Chow down." You sit, starting to eat. Your voice was rather dead. You eye him as you begin to munch. After a while, you stop, placing your fork down and starring at him. He was just sitting there, looking at his food. "..." You take a small gulp, heart beginning to race.
"..." He's quiet, starring at his food with a blank face. Minutes turn to feel more like hours and soon enough the tension in the air begins to choke you. Finally, his head snapped to you, his starring is more or less piercing though your walls. Your line of defense is slowly being torn down inside. Your pulse is racing, your heart is pounding so hard you swear he could hear it, sweat is threatening to dribble down your temples, your eyes are feeling like they're shaking in your head, your palms are becoming sweaty, your hands are cramping and becoming more and more glued to your pants leg and your fork. You're freaking out. You know he knows. You know he's going to kill you. God he won't stop starring, you're beginning to gasp for air, trying to keep your breathing shallow. His starring is now a death glare, his jaw is clenched. He barely moves his hand, reaching for the plate. "...you honestly think I'll fall for this?" He growled softly. His voice was calm. It was dark, but calm. It was scary. "You think I'm honestly stupid enough to fall for a stupid old fucking trick like this?" His voice was rising slowly, becoming more hysterical as he began to stand, his clench on the plate threatening to snap it.
"I- I don't know w- what you're talking about Gamzee-" Your skittish now. You're slowly pushing yourself away from the table, backing up.
"Mother fuck you don't know what I'm talking about! Drop the bullshit Vantas! I know my mother fucking food was mother fucking poisoned..." He snarled, the plate shattered in his hand, large chunks of it falling to the ground and table. He gripped the sides of the table, and practically threw it to the side. You jump, and ended up slipping back. Grabbing a piece of the broken plate, he dashes to you.
"Fuck-!" You yelp, and duck as he swings the sharp glass at you. This time, you tackle him down. Catching him off guard this time, he drops the glass and hits floor. You don't hesitate one bit. Once he hit the ground, your let loose, and tumbled over him. Laying on your back for a second or two, you jump up and dash out of the room. Of course your forcing yourself to do this. You're surprised you're not on the ground again from the unhealed and most likely festering wounds from the past. You dash down slightly, grabbing the sickle from under the bed and gliding over the top of the bed. Rolling a little, you push yourself up from the floor, and balance out with a wall.
Doors burst open one right after the other; the chase was on this time. "Karkat!" Gamzee yells. You continue to run, not daring to look behind you. You know he's probably right on your tail. You fucked up, but your not going to regret anything yet. Dashing through the familiar surroundings from your first attempt to escape you end up slamming into a dead hall- locked door. Your vision is rather fucking up on you now. Fuck.
"Shit..." You stumble back a little.
"Mother fucker... no... Mother fucking idiot." He growled. He was at the end of the small hall way. You cornered yourself. Holding your sickle out in front of you, you growl. You're not going to give up. Not yet. You take slow breathes, trying to continue your stamina, or whatever is left. Taking one last deep breath, you manage to stop shaking. You stand there, waiting for him as he slowly stalks down the hallway. You look back at the door and start to jiggle the handle in hopes of it coming loose. It's not going to budge anytime soon. You look back at him, he's charging again.
"fuck-" Your snarl, and swing the sickle at him. He stopped, and grabbed your arm, twisting it. You give a small yelp, his grip crushing your wrists. You drop your weapon, as he quickly brought a hand down on your elbow joint hard. "FUCK!" You cry loudly, trying to push away frantically. You're brought to your knees, yanking your arm away. He picked up the sickle, holding it tightly in his hand. Kicking you hard in the stomach, he the grabs your feet, beginning to drag you away.
THERE IS THE SHORT CHAPTER. PLEASE REVIEW.
AND THE END OF CHAPTER 2. HEHE... I AM BEGINNING TO LOSE HOPE IN THIS FANFIC..