MONSTER //Tyrannus one shot.
Aug 9, 2013 4:50:52 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker kelsier on Aug 9, 2013 4:50:52 GMT -5
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I have woken up from a sleep.
A slumber in the darkness of this twilight, and all I can think about is the sunrise. I hope it will be beautiful, with light shining through the dust on this window pane. My legs are tangled in the sheets, my torso bare. I am not hot, but I'm not cold either. It doesn't feel like anything, it feels like neutral. Warm but not, I'm here, but not. I wish, that my arm was under his head. My feet tangled up with his. These red curls fanning over my chest and the pillow look wrong, too long and smelling of apricots and sweat.
I blink, and pull my arm out from under her head, a line of half formed scars standing like soldiers where my veins are. Rolling our of the bed softly, I pull on my pants, and yesterday's sweater. Ignoring the door, and the mirror I make my way over to the window. The shades were never dropped last night, and I can see the stars out the window. She murmurs in her sleep, and her arms look for me. I ignore it and slide the window open, the soft shifting sound of wood and glass filling up the night. I leave the window open behind me. I hope she catches a cold.
I slip my hands into my pockets, slump my shoulders. I do my best to look like nothing more than some rebellious youth on his early morning walk home from the latest 'get together'. I am of course. There was something that sort of began last night, and I can still taste the mixture of vodka and gin in the back of my throat. I know Tarquin hadn't wanted me to go. In fact, I distinctly remember him being very cross with me. That had pleased me. Lately he'd barely shown me a flicker of emotion. I don't know how else to get him to pay attention to me, than to annoy him. If I am good he doesn't worry or think of me and I feel anxious. To get the biggest reaction from him, it's easiest to piss him off. Everyone gets angry with me, if they didn't I wouldn't be Tyrannus. Seeing as Quin is the only one I care about, it's his anger that makes me feel the most stable.
Lately he's been preoccupied. I'll come home to find that he's the one that's out. Once I woke up from a dream that left me shaking. I went to his room to find him, and he wasn't there. Now when I wake up from these dreams, I'm worried he won't be there when I look for him. I lay alone and shake in my bed until the sun comes up and he climbs in through the window. Now I think I can understand a little bit how it feels. Now I think I can see why he hates it when I leave out of the blue. It doesn't stop me doing it. I like his anger. I like it when he gives me attention, even bad attention. I'm selfish too. I like to hurt him, that's the only explanation for the things I do.
The downstairs lights are on when I arrive home. It's a bit early for them, but the idea that something might be wrong doesn't occur to me. I ignore my family unless I require something from them, or I'm busy nailing their undergarments to the fence.
When I climb into the window, he isn't there. The door hangs by a hinge and his bedding is on the floor. My bed, of course is haphazardly made. It's untouched, the way I left it. The person who caused that door to cave in would have to either be the size of Tiger, or a whole lot of people put together. Kneeling down, my fingers brush the floor, and I see the boot prints on the polished wood. Many boot prints. Curious, I go down the stairs, ignoring a broken step by sliding down the banister.
Tiger is clutching a lamp, Willow is clutching a piece of paper. It looks crisp and official, I can see that from here. Tarquin is not in the room. I wonder if he's out again, doing things he never tells me about. I want to reach into my pocket and pull out a cigarette. My fingers shake slightly as I reach out for the piece of paper, not saying a word. Willow looks at me, an apology in her eyes, a not of sympathy and sorrow. A stare at her, hard and unnerving. I don't want to read the paper, I don't like the way her eyes stare at me, watch me. I was never a big reader, not at all. Yet, I don't have to move my lips when I read like some others do. I barely move at all in fact as I read the official document.
Tarquin Aemilius Rex: Wanted for conspiring to rebel.
They don't have to tell me that they've taken him. I'm not stupid. I can see by the way the door hangs, the broken step. I can see it in the way Tiger's knuckles are still white from clutching the lamp. There is shouting coming from the kitchen and I can make out Leo's voice, and our mother's. They don't have to tell me because I know. I let the paper slip from my grasp, and turn slowly on my heel. I don't want to look at them, they let them take him. They took Tarquin, and confusion hunts me, catching me in it's hold. Why him? If anything, they should have taken me. I was waiting for them.
I walk out the front door, still open I suppose from when they left. I search for tail lights in the distance. I could go to them, tell them that the boy they had was Tyrannus Rex, not the boy they wanted. I could be Tarquin, I am Tarquin already. Just his mirror image. In horror, I check my hands to make sure they haven't begun to disappear. I seem to be all here. He's not dead then. I know that if Tarqun died, so would I. I think I'd know too, if he was dead, like the way you know when you're about to get a beating.
My hands curl into fists and I can feel myself lost at sea. Quin was my anchor, the weight I used to keep me tethered, my rage tethered. He was my reminder to why I didn't just leave myself alone and let me run amok. He was my lifeline. Without him, I am afraid that I won't quite know what to do with myself. Rage is let out of hiding, I can feel it pumping through me as I walk off into the night. I grit my teeth so hard that it hurts, but I cannot stop this anger. I want to go to the center of town and burn it all down. I want to tear down these fences that keep us apart and burn the forest too. I shake, not from cold. Not from horror. I shake from this rage that burns through me, numbing me, taking me over until everything is a purple haze and I am no longer leading my body.
I will go to them, take back my brother. I will kill them. I will kill them all. I can feel the monster that rests inside me growing inside. Every man has a monster. The only difference between their's and mine is that I am one. That was a mistake, taking the only one that can tame me away from me. They will realize it soon. Without a reason to be even mostly good, I am free. I grin. I want to lose all this sense of familiarity, this feeling. This feeling hurts. I will lose it all, become cold and numb. I have risen from this slumber and the dawn is coming. Sun peaks over the trees. I am coming for them all.
I run.
[/blockquote][/justify][/size][/td][/tr][/table][/center]A slumber in the darkness of this twilight, and all I can think about is the sunrise. I hope it will be beautiful, with light shining through the dust on this window pane. My legs are tangled in the sheets, my torso bare. I am not hot, but I'm not cold either. It doesn't feel like anything, it feels like neutral. Warm but not, I'm here, but not. I wish, that my arm was under his head. My feet tangled up with his. These red curls fanning over my chest and the pillow look wrong, too long and smelling of apricots and sweat.
I blink, and pull my arm out from under her head, a line of half formed scars standing like soldiers where my veins are. Rolling our of the bed softly, I pull on my pants, and yesterday's sweater. Ignoring the door, and the mirror I make my way over to the window. The shades were never dropped last night, and I can see the stars out the window. She murmurs in her sleep, and her arms look for me. I ignore it and slide the window open, the soft shifting sound of wood and glass filling up the night. I leave the window open behind me. I hope she catches a cold.
I slip my hands into my pockets, slump my shoulders. I do my best to look like nothing more than some rebellious youth on his early morning walk home from the latest 'get together'. I am of course. There was something that sort of began last night, and I can still taste the mixture of vodka and gin in the back of my throat. I know Tarquin hadn't wanted me to go. In fact, I distinctly remember him being very cross with me. That had pleased me. Lately he'd barely shown me a flicker of emotion. I don't know how else to get him to pay attention to me, than to annoy him. If I am good he doesn't worry or think of me and I feel anxious. To get the biggest reaction from him, it's easiest to piss him off. Everyone gets angry with me, if they didn't I wouldn't be Tyrannus. Seeing as Quin is the only one I care about, it's his anger that makes me feel the most stable.
Lately he's been preoccupied. I'll come home to find that he's the one that's out. Once I woke up from a dream that left me shaking. I went to his room to find him, and he wasn't there. Now when I wake up from these dreams, I'm worried he won't be there when I look for him. I lay alone and shake in my bed until the sun comes up and he climbs in through the window. Now I think I can understand a little bit how it feels. Now I think I can see why he hates it when I leave out of the blue. It doesn't stop me doing it. I like his anger. I like it when he gives me attention, even bad attention. I'm selfish too. I like to hurt him, that's the only explanation for the things I do.
The downstairs lights are on when I arrive home. It's a bit early for them, but the idea that something might be wrong doesn't occur to me. I ignore my family unless I require something from them, or I'm busy nailing their undergarments to the fence.
When I climb into the window, he isn't there. The door hangs by a hinge and his bedding is on the floor. My bed, of course is haphazardly made. It's untouched, the way I left it. The person who caused that door to cave in would have to either be the size of Tiger, or a whole lot of people put together. Kneeling down, my fingers brush the floor, and I see the boot prints on the polished wood. Many boot prints. Curious, I go down the stairs, ignoring a broken step by sliding down the banister.
Tiger is clutching a lamp, Willow is clutching a piece of paper. It looks crisp and official, I can see that from here. Tarquin is not in the room. I wonder if he's out again, doing things he never tells me about. I want to reach into my pocket and pull out a cigarette. My fingers shake slightly as I reach out for the piece of paper, not saying a word. Willow looks at me, an apology in her eyes, a not of sympathy and sorrow. A stare at her, hard and unnerving. I don't want to read the paper, I don't like the way her eyes stare at me, watch me. I was never a big reader, not at all. Yet, I don't have to move my lips when I read like some others do. I barely move at all in fact as I read the official document.
Tarquin Aemilius Rex: Wanted for conspiring to rebel.
They don't have to tell me that they've taken him. I'm not stupid. I can see by the way the door hangs, the broken step. I can see it in the way Tiger's knuckles are still white from clutching the lamp. There is shouting coming from the kitchen and I can make out Leo's voice, and our mother's. They don't have to tell me because I know. I let the paper slip from my grasp, and turn slowly on my heel. I don't want to look at them, they let them take him. They took Tarquin, and confusion hunts me, catching me in it's hold. Why him? If anything, they should have taken me. I was waiting for them.
I walk out the front door, still open I suppose from when they left. I search for tail lights in the distance. I could go to them, tell them that the boy they had was Tyrannus Rex, not the boy they wanted. I could be Tarquin, I am Tarquin already. Just his mirror image. In horror, I check my hands to make sure they haven't begun to disappear. I seem to be all here. He's not dead then. I know that if Tarqun died, so would I. I think I'd know too, if he was dead, like the way you know when you're about to get a beating.
My hands curl into fists and I can feel myself lost at sea. Quin was my anchor, the weight I used to keep me tethered, my rage tethered. He was my reminder to why I didn't just leave myself alone and let me run amok. He was my lifeline. Without him, I am afraid that I won't quite know what to do with myself. Rage is let out of hiding, I can feel it pumping through me as I walk off into the night. I grit my teeth so hard that it hurts, but I cannot stop this anger. I want to go to the center of town and burn it all down. I want to tear down these fences that keep us apart and burn the forest too. I shake, not from cold. Not from horror. I shake from this rage that burns through me, numbing me, taking me over until everything is a purple haze and I am no longer leading my body.
I will go to them, take back my brother. I will kill them. I will kill them all. I can feel the monster that rests inside me growing inside. Every man has a monster. The only difference between their's and mine is that I am one. That was a mistake, taking the only one that can tame me away from me. They will realize it soon. Without a reason to be even mostly good, I am free. I grin. I want to lose all this sense of familiarity, this feeling. This feeling hurts. I will lose it all, become cold and numb. I have risen from this slumber and the dawn is coming. Sun peaks over the trees. I am coming for them all.
I run.
The people of the world have turned their backs against me
The corners of their eyes are all twisted up
The greatest pain to me,
Is the fact that you became the same as them.
The corners of their eyes are all twisted up
The greatest pain to me,
Is the fact that you became the same as them.
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