YUP. ITS HAPPENNING. THE ROMANCE IS EN ROUTE.
appy-polly-loggies for the wait, ive been feeling a little world-weary and have not been in much of a creative mood. Kyuubi123, The Unmarked Trail, electrogirl88, Inkoholic4U, Keskron, Nightbloodwolf and Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal, youre all wonderful and i adore you.
its a lot easier to write with a great big smile on my face so read and please review if you want the next chapter up faster and better; reviews are like cattleprods for inspiration, they get that shit going.
Felix Laband – Under The Carpet
Rollover Reaction: when a dream about someone you know skews how you feel about them all the next day, an emotion you are unable—and unwilling—to shake.
As the sun kissed the sky good morning, Jason was already temporal-lobe deep in preparations. In three days it would be May, marking the beginning of the summer season. Usually, one or two special cases camped illegally before the official season and "mysteriously" vanished, leaving only tent poles and garbage behind, but it had been quiet this year. Selfishly, Jason was very happy about this turn of events because he didn't have to spend any less time with Charlotte than he wanted to. All the same, he had a feeling that the summer rush would come fast because of the initial lull. Not that he minded the idea of wholesale slaughter.
He never abused the reluctant hospitality of the town by killing outside his territory, because he had no reason to. However, it went without saying that he took grave offence to the blatant disregard of his privacy by obnoxious, fornicating flesh-bags. It was always the loudest and most disrespectful who dared to parade around his side of the lake, so they were the ones Jason ever had the slightest contact with. Almost every person Jason found trespassing was doing so out of a misguided sense of rebellion, else they were looking for a secluded place to desecrate. Charlotte was the obvious exception to this rule.
They would see each other soon enough, so he didn't want to think about her in his usual reverent depth at the moment. He had work to do.
Jason meticulously lay six bear traps throughout the woods and covered them delicately with leaves. He thoroughly tested the bell systems. This was something he should have done weeks ago (in hindsight, it didn't mater because as previously mentioned, it was a quiet start to the season) in case of illegal campers, but for obvious reasons he hadn't had the presence of mind to do it. He sharpened his arrows, his axes, his hunting knife and his machete with precise affection. He put on the indigo sweater Charlotte made him and went to see her.
Charlotte woke from a wonderful dream. She hadn't the vaguest idea what it was about, but that wasn't important. It was one of those dreams of detuned channels of TV static. It left her in an enchanted mood to wake up in.
Since it was already well into the morning, Charlotte decided to skip her tai-chi and get some work done instead. A tree fell about thirty feet from her property the week before and she hadn't yet gotten around to chopping it up. There would be no sense in leaving it to rot when she could get her firewood pile restocked early. Usually, this ritual was done at the end of the summer. The previous year she only got around to doing it in November because of her little adventure in the woods and the resulting injury that pushed back her schedule into the fall.
The weather was pleasant and balmy so Charlotte dressed lightly and went straight to work. Each time she brought the axe down an errant and distracting thought vanished from her mind, leaving it clear and calm and most importantly, silent. She felt like she had just walked out of a room full of steam and could finally breathe. Unfortunately, this satori state did not last because of a razor sharp muscle tension which caused her mind's silence to shatter in the wake of full-force mental expletives. She rode the wave of pain long enough to embed the axe in a piece of wood before consoling her shoulder.
In the sunlight, her hair was the colour of weathered wood. It was pulled up in a pony tail with strands escaping every which way. The curled wisps accentuated the back of her neck. Jason saw her standing by a pile of wood and put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She seemed to crumble under his touch, which worried him. Her bangs were waved and fell charmingly into her eyes. Her mouth fell open, slack in pain. Trepidation festered in his gut.
Charlotte immediately noticed the agitation in him. "I'm alright Jason. My shoulder's just acting up, I must have slept on it wrong." Jason's posture slumped in shame, he averted his eyes from her painful sincerity. She truly had no idea what happened after she fell asleep in his arms. This was much of a relief as it was torture. But then she couldn't know the turmoil in his head so it made no difference. So Jason buried his self-loathing deep down.
Want me to finish for you?
She smiled in his favourite way. "Yes, thank you. I'm going to go put some ice on it." As Jason set to work the same stillness of mind overcame him. Swing by swing he felt immensely better than he had all day. All week, even. But this phenomenon seemed to be cursed. Not in the form of pain. In the form of a bear.
Jason slowly looked up, though he knew beyond a doubt what was in front of him, and tightened his grip on the axe, hoping feverishly that Charlotte would stay inside. It was a powerful looking grizzly that padded territorially in Jason's direction. He couldn't say why it had come, but that wasn't important. It was important that Charlotte stayed inside while he either scared it away or killed it, he wasn't sure which was the best course of action. The bear chose for him.
It gave a warning growl and stood on its hind legs. It was much taller than Jason, close to the eight foot mark, but Jason was hardly intimidated by size.
It was a short fight, but by no means tame. It was a male, territorial, and determined to kill or die. I think we can all guess what happened next, but I'll spare your imaginations the burden.
His first reaction was to use the axe already in a power position. The bear, however, saw this coming, and beat back his arm with a massive paw. Jason, however, saw this coming, and took what was likely to be his only advantage, burying his hunting knife in the animal's neck. It didn't die without a fight, thrashing and slashing at Jason's face and neck. He managed to parry most of its attempts, but all it needed was one lucky shot to destroy one very important piece of plastic.
Oddly enough, he didn't acknowledge this. It wouldn't have helped the situation, it only would have given the dying bear the opening it would need. Jason had to finish this, and soon the bear lay dead in a heap.
To think that if Charlotte had been chopping wood still... She would have been if her shoulder hadn't flared up. And it wouldn't have flared up if Jason hadn't used it like a stress ball the night before. Thinking of all the implications made him dizzy.
Now as he observed the carcass at his feet he suddenly felt naked. Only when he remembered that Charlotte was inside and could not see his face did the incomprehensible panic dull. Carefully, he crouched down on his haunches to pick up his faithful mask; there was a great gash through the middle, severing it almost completely and entirely beyond repair. It was warped and absolutely destroyed and he was sitting there without covering, completely vulnerable to elements and eyes. Because of this he stayed completely still so he could think of a solution as quickly and rationally as he could before Charlotte came back out.
In moments of extreme stress, such as life or death situations (this might as well have been one for Jason), one finds that their mind is clear as still water and complicated concepts simply conceptualize. The mind will answer most questions if one is able to relax and wait for an answer. Like an animated thinking machine, you simply feed it a question and wait. If one is able to keep the mind in this productive state then a solution or an escape plan will surely appear in no time.
Charlotte was racing to and from her linen closet. She couldn't just let him torture himself like this. "Jason?" Charlotte called from the door, a hand over her eyes. "I'm not looking, I promise. You can use this if you want." Jason strained a look over his shoulder and saw that Lotte was indeed not looking. He didn't know if he wanted to take the pillow case she was offering or go look for a new mask. But he wasn't ready to leave yet, so he decided to use the case for now. Stepping slowly and carefully so she could hear his heavy footfalls, he approached her and took the pillow case. "Let me know when I can look, okay?"
Quickly, he cut out a little eye hole and threw it over his head. He tapped her shoulder when it was secure. "Is that okay?" she asked. Jason nodded shallowly. It was better than okay. It smelled like her. But that's not what he told her.
For now, at least.
Charlotte was a little disconcerted with only being able to see one of his eyes. He seemed so much more distant now and she felt immediately uncomfortable. He looked to her like some cheap cliche pulled out of an equally cheap slasher film, or like a cultish character in a comic book. Almost instantly he noticed her feelings shift into darker territory and tilted his head in his accustomed mode of questioning.
Charlotte pursed her lips hesitantly and looked to the stomped-on ground. "... I see little enough of your face as it is. Isn't it weird for you with just the one eye hole?" He shook his head. "But it's so flimsy. I could just..." For lack of words she demonstrated her meaning by tugging it askew. Jason fixed it, a playful look in his eye. Charlotte chewed the grin off her face. "See?" She couldn't see it, but she knew beyond a reasonable doubt that Jason was smiling too. His eyes were the brightest she'd ever seen.
Yes, I see.
It couldn't be helped. "Not anymore you can't," she giggled and made a run for it. For the moment, Jason had to take the time to realign the case before he could locate Lotte, who was running to the dock. Jason hopped the deck railing and cut the chase short, coming up behind her and picking her up around the middle. She let out a delighted shriek, the likes of which he had heard before but were never the kind offered him. The sound bent him to throw Lotte in the lake: something he would never think to do in normal circumstances. Lotte bobbed in the water, shaking the sopping hair from her face.
"You have to help me out now," she reproached playfully, offering up both her hands. Jason pulled her straight out of the water, his nonchalant strength more than apparent. He pushed a flank of hair from her face; she smiled achingly.
She had another dream that night.
She felt like a hollow observer, watching from her own eyes, but not in tune with herself. She wanted to feel fear, at least, she felt like she should, but she couldn't. All she felt was a shadow that wasn't hers. Without her approval her line of vision shifted to an incorporeal figure approaching her in what looked like battle garments and a great sword. The figure quickened its pace to a degree that made Charlotte extremely uncomfortable. She ran where her feet would take her, but they didn't seem to be cooperating and took her right into a corner.
The soldier-figure slowed its step menacingly and stepped into a pool of light. What she had thought was a helmet and great sword turned out to be a blank pillowcase and machete. A horrible shiver wormed up her spine as Jason raised his weapon. She pushed back against the wall with all her might and it wouldn't budge, but this didn't deter her. She screamed and wordlessly pleaded for mercy but he couldn't see her. Even if he wanted to see who he was hunting, he couldn't because the case over his head was unscathed and almost eerily pristine. He looked like some otherworldly executioner.
Jason was, as per usual, watching Charlotte sleep through her bedroom window. She was moving around a lot and had tossed and turned her sheets to the ground. She refused, however, to relinquish her pillow, which she clutched desperately.
This was not normal. Charlotte was a very calm sleeper, but tonight her face was pained and she shivered under a blanket of sweat. When her mouth fell slack in a silent scream, Jason forgot about keeping a low profile. Charlotte tended to leave her door unlocked now because Jason was always close by and she trusted him more than she trusted a deadbolt. This being the case, Jason felt he had the right to enter her home at will.
When he was close enough to hear her strained breath he realized that she was trying to say something. However, given the turmoil folding her brow he could assume that it was nothing good and that the only option was to wake her up. It was better that he could spare her a nightmare where he could.
Sometimes fate is kind and throws a nice surprise your way, like the sun coming out from behind a gray cloud at the exact moment your favourite song comes on the radio. But fate is just a romantic word for probability, and probability is not concerned with whatever meaning you assign it. So sometimes fate can be cruel without meaning to. It just so happened to be that Jason woke her at the crescendo of her nightmare, causing it to bleed into her waking mind.
She screamed in the back of her throat, her eyes open to the maximum. Her companion pillow was cast away like a large spider. It didn't matter that she could see the hurt and concern pouring out of his one visible eye because all she focused on was the inexpressive mask, the pillow case she had given him. It's lack of human shape, it's blankness that was so much more surreal than the hockey mask. Jason's hand curled back like a burned flower.
Her skin leaked cold sweat as her brain began functioning normally again; she took in the full sight of Jason, who had woken her from the nightmare in which he was the predator. Her fear-frozen flesh began to thaw as she came back fully into reality. Jason's presence was shrinking from her bedside and she tried to speak. Only a whimper was audible, one which preyed on every insecurity present in the room. Her eyes became accustomed to the darkness but she still couldn't see because of the pooling tears.
Though it pained him deeply to even hold eye contact, he held it in the hopes that Charlotte would regain her senses and explain what had happened. The whole truth was that he was afraid to leave her presence with the last thing she said to him a scream. Jason had plenty experience translating those. He craved reassurance, specifically from Charlotte, whose words meant something to him.
She sobbed once, very softly and began to speak. "Come back Jason... I didn't mean to – I was having a nightmare..." Her nerves infused with steel in order to tell him his role in it. It wasn't enough to keep her voice from breaking. "You were in it." Her eyes fell to her hands, limply cupping air. Jason was motionless, suffocating in the immediate past.
As she told him of her dream he felt such grief over the pain, imaginary or otherwise, that he had caused her. He didn't care that it was only a dream, or that no harm had been done, or that she was only telling him because she trusted him. For an intense moment, he hated himself.
This would be the part where he kissed her and made it all better, but that wasn't going to happen no matter how much he wanted it to.
I'm sorry.
She looked horrified that he would say this. "What are you apologizing for, Jason? Don't! You didn't do anything, I'm just..."
Are you afraid of me?
She looked intensely conflicted, causing another pang of guilt in Jason's heart, which was lodged securely in his windpipe. "I want to say no. You know that. I'm just being silly..." He shook his head furiously and pulled her into a fresh hug. She couldn't care less that he was holding her too tight because she was returning the comforting pressure with as much force as she had. She felt completely secure.
Now more than ever, Charlotte wanted to see his face. She wanted to see more than just an eye or two. It wasn't enough anymore, but that was a line she refused to cross. So instead she held him like the world was ending and allowed his overwhelming presence to banish her shadow. In their secure embrace Jasons' pillow case came askew so all he could see was cloth, but what did he need sight for when Lotte was all around him?
When they broke the embrace (much later) Charlotte bit her lip and fixed the pillow case so he could see properly. Jason tried to decide if fear or gratitude was the more prevalent emotion in her wet eyes. He found that he couldn't. It terrified him to an entirely unthinkable extreme.
If ever Charlotte wanted to sever their ties completely, Jason had no doubt that he would go insane from loneliness. He couldn't even remember what he did before he started watching her. It was as if she was infused with his personality now; he couldn't think of a single thing that existed before she did.
thoughts? if its any incentive, the next chapter will have murders
xoxo