Just something quick and short. Hope you guys enjoy! I randomly thought of this and wrote it down, so it's not the absolute best.
Reviews:
smileyface I am: Thanks! I would be that person too! Glad you like the story! Thanks for reviewing!
Newt walked slowly through the barricaded streets of the Crank Palace. Pain shredded his insides. Tommy. The word repeated in his head like a mantra.
Tommy. Tommy. Tommy.
He hadn't read it. Obviously he hadn't read the note. That, or he'd ignored it. Newt clutched at his hair furiously. It couldn't be ignored. Not this...this monster in his brain. He could feel it. Slinking and flattening itself into every crevice of his brain, filling into it like clay in a mold.
Sometimes it would speak to him. Sometimes it would scream and spit and laugh and spite him.
He's not your friend...he never was...
"Yes he is!" Newt muttered.
He'll watch as you live on...he'll laugh as you get uglier and crazier...then he'll cry as you rip off his flesh...
"Stop it! Shut up! Please just shut up!" Newt yelled.
And yet he knew the voice was right. He knew it the second he had sent Tommy away. He was going to live with this pain forever. Through the rubble he saw something. A figure flashing by.
Prey
Hunt
Kill
Something in his legs twitched and he was running. Running and diving and vaulting over piles of rotting rubbish. Saliva swirled in his mouth, frothing down his chin in yellow specks. There it was! Get it!
He sped up, frantically pouncing on a broken old car and leaping off. He collided with the figure and together they rolled in the dirt.
Newt gasped for breath, the voice quieter now. Horrified, he looked down at the girl he'd tackled.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," He despaired. She smiled ecstatically.
"Don't be. We're all cranks here," She giggled. Newt stared. She was pale, with cuts and purple bruises all over her arms and face. Her hair was dirty, impossible to tell what color it was, but there was a tiny garland of peeled sticks that resembled a crown.
She stared back, with wide, murky green eyes that held at least a small hint of sanity.
"So, who are you?" She chirped, and Newt realized he was still straddling her. He quickly scooted away and hid his blush.
"Newt."
"Weird name. Are you weird too?"
"Um..."
"I'm Meg, by the way," She said, not bothering to hear the answer to her question. Newt grimaced, overly aware of the silence that stretched on. His mind raced. He should say something. But what?
"Sorry for attacking you," He said dumbly. She laughed.
"It's fine. I quite liked it actually," She waved a hand casually.
"What?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
"No wait," Newt spoke, "...I liked it too."
Meg smiled dangerously. She inched closer to Newt, who found himself getting closer too. Suddenly he saw something flicker in her eyes. Sadness seemed to wash away the color from her face.
"You know there is no cure, right?" She whispered through bleeding lips.
"Yeah."
"We're cranks. We're crazy, horrible cranks. But you know what the upside is?"
"What?" Newt breathed in her scent. She stunk, but to him it was wonderful.
"There is no society here. No rules. And...time doesn't really apply either."
Newt found himself forgetting his friends. He remembered a boy. A promise? A friend. But he suddenly couldn't remember a name, or exactly what he looked like. Something inside him switched on, and he found himself unable to control himself.
"Yeah. Which means we can do this," He drawled, roughly grabbing Meg and yanking her close. She made a sound resembling a purr, and pressed her gored face to his. They kissed. Newt watched in fascination as his body locked lips with this crank girl.
Was love possible here? Here in this place full of insane cannibals? Was it real?
They pulled away and Newt was in control again. He breathed heavily.
"Love me 'till the Gone?" She pleaded, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Newt hesitated just long enough to smile sadly.
"'Till the Gone," He answered.
Again, just something I thought up. Hope you liked it! Keep those suggestions coming!
Wolf Out...