I don't own MR
Fang
She was late. Five days late. The girl I had been agonizing over for thirty-five days had not come back yet. Torture had been something I'd been through multiple times before. Physical, where the pain made me pass out, and mental, where the torment made me go insane. Nothing compared to now though, as I laid on the hotel bed, glaring at the ceiling.
Max, my gorgeous, amazing, intelligent Max, wasn't by my side. Instead she was somewhere else, doing something else, thinking about someone more important.
I blew out a breath, feeling the hatred I shoved down after day one beginning to bubble up inside of me. I wanted to kill her, I wanted to rip out her throat, to make her suffer. Why the hell should I be the only one who had to go through this agony? But I also felt a spark of love, so sickeningly sweet it made cavities look like a walk in the park. I wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make her feel my love for her in the most intimate way. But I couldn't.
And I hated that. And that hatred for the lack of love turned into a hatred for the person causing my depravity. I could have laughed at the irony if not for the bitterness that enveloped all my joy and mechanized it into fury.
"Fang?" Ari's voice filtered through a layer of wall, and a scowl came across my face.
"I'll tear you to shreds if you take one step inside this room."
"I don't doubt it." Max's older brother opened the door anyways. I didn't move. "But I think I should talk to you about something before you do that."
"Get the hell out." I sneered, but he didn't move. Always one to test my patience.
"Fang, this is really important." He persisted.
"Unless it's about Max, I don't care." Ari rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip, chewing on the thin skin until blood dribbled down his chin. He didn't seem to register any pain but maybe he was too hurt about his sister's absence to feel much of anything.
Maybe I needed to hurt myself, too. Maybe I needed to find a knife and shred my skin, maybe I needed to see blood, my blood, everywhere. Maybe a few cuts would do me good.
"Fang, you know what an expiration date is, don't you?" I rolled my eyes. The question was blunt and stupid, just like Ari.
"Of course I know. They stamp them on milk so you know when it spoils." I snarled, hardly thinking of any other type. I sat up, looking around my room, thinking back to forever ago when I had stabbed a pen into my skull. Could I stab one into my wrist this time?
"No, not that kind, Fang. The kind they put on us." Us. I paused in my train of thought, looking over to Ari with a sudden fear. He was hinting at something I didn't want to understand, something I never wanted to even think about. I knew they weren't just some horror story meant to scare mutants- they actually happened. I'd seen Erasers drop dead from them, even some bird kids like me- or, like I used to be anyways.
"Does Max…" My voice trailed off. No. This couldn't be happening. Ari's eyes darkened into something broken, something beyond repair, but then he cleared his throat, blew out a breath, and forced words out of his mouth.
"It's me." Ari trailed a design in the back of his hand with his fingers, refusing to look me in the eye. I blinked. Him?
"Oh Ari, I-"
"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. I don't want your pity. I just, I want to ask you some questions." My Anger for Max drizzled away as I nodded, patting the end of my bed. Ari came and sat down, staring at the carpet so he wouldn't have to face me. I didn't blame him. I could never talk about my own death while looking someone in the eye, while watching their face contort with all the feelings I didn't want to see.
"Shoot." I finally agreed when he didn't come right out and ask them like I expected him to.
"I'm debating whether or not to tell Max so, honestly, if Max just dropped dead one day, how would you feel about that?" For a moment I couldn't even comprehend the idea of the question. It was such a shock I forgot to breathe. Max, dead? No warning, no chance, just there one minute and gone the next?
"I'd kill myself." I said finally. "If I don't have Max I don't have a reason to live."
"That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" Ari asked, his voice suddenly nervous, as if my answer scared him. It's not like she was the one going to die though so what was his problem?
"Just give me some shakespeare and call me Romeo, I guess." I shrugged.
"Fang, you can't just up and kill yourself. Your life doesn't revolve around Max." Ari insisted.
"I wouldn't be here if not for her."
"You're right, you'd still be with your father in a house, with a bed and a room-"
"And I'd always be a disappointment. Max saved me. She's the reason I smile, Ari."
"But she's not the reason you live, Fang." For a long moment we stared at one another, locked in our own thoughts and beliefs, before I finally looked off towards the window.
"What does it matter anyways? It's not like it's her. It's you, and frankly if you die I'll be pretty Goddamn relieved." I growled out. Silence infiltrated the room and even though I never saw Ari get up to leave, I felt the weight lift off the bed, heard it creak, listened to the shuffling of feet against carpet.
"You know," he started as he opened the door. "It's a shame you're such a whiny bitch. No wonder Max hasn't come back yet." And then he was gone. And then I blacked out
When I finally came to there was blood. Everywhere. The room was trashed beyond repair and a metallic taste settled on my tongue. It didn't smell like death, but it definitely tasted like it.
"What the hell?" I mumbled. looking around the room for some sort of answer. I had been so angry when Ari left, so infuriated, and the last thing I remembered was standing up.
Cautiously, on weak legs, I staggered to the bathroom, letting myself lean heavily on the counter as I took a long look at my body.
I was covered in the crimson red. My hair was a tangled rat's nest, my clothes were ripped, my skin was shredded in some areas. I looked like Carry right before she burned the school down. It was terrifying.
I screamed as loud as I could, smashing my body against the mirror, waiting for the glass to explode and melt into my skin
I blinked, caught off guard by the flash of a memory as I peered down at a piece of glass protruding from my thigh. I didn't start to feel it until I realized it was there. I sat back on the toilet, gently pulling the shard out of my leg and wincing in pain, although I wasn't sure if it was from that or the layers of skin ripped back to the bone on the back of my hand.
My mind toggled into confusion as I grabbed a particularly large piece, stabbing it into the back of my hand until it hit bone. I might have cried out in pain had I not been so excited to see the marrow chip away.
"God, what the hell did I do to myself?" I whispered, tugging my shirt off. My shoulder ached viciously.
I rammed myself into the wall, so hard my shoulder dislocated. This time I wasn't too elated about the break to forget to feel the excruciating agony. When I fell back it managed to pop itself back into place though, and it all ended with a devastating shout somewhere between an animal being mutilated and a bird's sorrowful cry.
It was then, I remembered the DNA inside of me. The genes I had paid for with my wings. I remembered how angry I had gotten at Max so long ago, how I had wanted to hurt her so bad. And then I was brought back to the hotel room, when I had thought about hurting myself, right before I was shoved past the line of return with Ari's comment.
I had gone into rage mode, and my target had been myself.
I took a shuddery breath, unsure of what to do with the sudden realization. My dark eyes found my reflection in the mirror- or rather a mangled boy with my eyes- soaked it in. No wonder Max hasn't come back yet.
My mind went into overdrive, forcing me to think thoughts without really understanding them. I got to my feet, struggling to watch the flashbacks like an old memory, to remember what I had done to myself, as I turned on the hot water. Normally, I'd take a shower but with the soreness that tickled through me I decided I'd rather lay in a bath for a few hours.
I pulled off what was left of my clothing, sighing at all the new cuts and bruises that showed up, before collapsing in the warm water, dreaming of something better.
I rubbed a towel over my wet hair, brushing some of the blood out of my mouth before using a nice mouth wash to get the metallic taste to go away. Then I headed into my room, looking around at the mess and taking a moment to breathe.
I had managed to bandage up the worst of my wounds, and even wrapped my shoulder after coating it in icy hot, but there was almost nowhere to relax and heal. The bed seemed stable enough, but the sheets were drenched in blood courtesy of my veins. I snorted at the thought, pulling them off. It soaked through to the mattress.
I groaned, slipping my belt on my jeans and begrudgingly putting a shirt on before heading for the door. I had to get out of here before I became consumed in my own frustrations all over again.
My feet led me to the door, careful to dodge all the splinters and broken glass, and my hand reached to open it. I could feel every muscle, every tendon, every ligament as it pulled and stretched, but attempted not to think about it as I swung the door open, intent on kicking Iggy and Lupo out of their room for awhile so I could sleep.
Unfortunately, things don't go as planned.
"Hey, sorry I'm late." Her voice was a soothing apology, her eyes the same dark brown as the day she left, only they were darker now, with the horrible truth that lies couldn't hide. Her smile was forced, but it was there. She stood in front of me, beautiful as ever, perfect as ever, infuriating as ever.
"Max!"
Yes so here we are, Max is back. The story is coming to a close. So I noticed that I published this on July 5th so I'm going to try and have the epilogue posted on July 5th so the start to finish is exactly three years apart. But there's still three more chapters in between that.
Review if you want me to finish the story on July 5th
Soar on
VR