![umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] Avatar](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6bd9510cdad971e3f06ec1e3f01f2c15/841067e54e16873e-4f/s400x600/0af56921a7100a0df6aa1190b31747bc8a4514f1.png)
me and my subzero heart | {pyrite/kellan}
Aug 11, 2014 23:34:21 GMT -5
Post by umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars] on Aug 11, 2014 23:34:21 GMT -5
KELLAN
FRAY
This blood on my hands... it doesn't seem too bothered by the scrubbing, by my desperate pleas for it to just go away. Soap and water, and soap and water, and soap and water again, yet it is still there, dying random patches of my skin crimson beneath the steady flow of water from the faucet. Eventually I just give up. After all, it's pointless by now anyway, isn't it? I'm wearing a hood, or a hat maybe, something heavy that keeps the rain off of me when I am back outside, sprinting as fast as I can into the woods, until I am left standing in the middle of nowhere. Crickets chirp, owls preach their sermons and the trees stretch for goodnight, and I stand amid them all, haggard breath after haggard breath of air disturbing the beautiful peace that is nature's embrace.
What did I do? What did I do? What. Did. You. Do, Kellan?
I see a faint light and it's so stupid of me to but I find myself walking toward it, the rain on my shoulders suddenly seeming to grow into painful pricks of ice, thin needles of frozen water now falling from the sky and landing on my already tired body. I need a break. I need help. I need to get out of this damn storm, so when I knock once, twice, then again, waiting between each pound that sounds against the crying tin roof for any reaction within, and there is none, I don't hesitate to let myself in.
It's simple, obviously abandoned, with a small unlit fireplace, a sink, a gas stove, and a pair of rocking chairs, both unoccupied. The only light comes from a long, over-used torch that is hanging outside the window, which has to be what I saw when I was in the storm. I find others like it and touch them to the gentle flame, finding it hard to believe it's still even lit in such a storm, and I bring them in with me, one by one until I can see every detail of the place. There are two doors in the entire building. I crack the first to find a small bed, also unoccupied, and the second to find a bathroom. There is a small refrigerator- the kind that Father has in his office at the Center, one that fits beneath his desk so that the other kids and I can't try to sneak something out of it without him noticing. My stomach beckons me to the tiny thing and I realize I can't remember the last time I ate something. I can't really remember... anything. I open it, and it's mostly filled with bottled water. There is a small plastic bag filled with apples, and when I check them they are still fresh, so I take one of each item and stand, but they both hit the ground when I stand and see my reflection.
Because I am not Kellan Fray.
I am not even sure I am human entirely. Long, raven hair is soaked against my pale skin, with a grotesque beard in the same shade. My eyes are sickeningly blue. I wear only black, and a leather hat looms over my face, giving off shadows from the candle light that make me look like a monster. Fresh blood drips from my hands and forms puddles at both sides, dark, thick, warm blood now beneath my boots. My reflection smiles but I don't, and row after row of sharp, jagged teeth hiss at me, drool flying from a horrid smelling, now gaping hole in the center of it's face. I turn to run, knowing this one is a battle I cannot win alone, and that's when I see myself again.
I am lifeless, my midsection jagged and raw, almost as if I have just been the first meal for a very, very hungry animal. I hear a single laugh behind me, dark and menacing, and I scream.
But suddenly I am in a bed. Suddenly everything is okay. I jump up and find a mirror on the wall just to be sure, but I only see myself. I hear movement, and I snap my head around to see the no-longer-sleeping form of Pyrite Shore in the bed I had woken up in. Flashbacks of the drinking and the motel and the kissing rake against my throbbing skull and I can finally breathe again. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream.
"Sorry I woke you," Is all I say, and then I reclaim my spot on the bed next to her.
What did I do? What did I do? What. Did. You. Do, Kellan?
I see a faint light and it's so stupid of me to but I find myself walking toward it, the rain on my shoulders suddenly seeming to grow into painful pricks of ice, thin needles of frozen water now falling from the sky and landing on my already tired body. I need a break. I need help. I need to get out of this damn storm, so when I knock once, twice, then again, waiting between each pound that sounds against the crying tin roof for any reaction within, and there is none, I don't hesitate to let myself in.
It's simple, obviously abandoned, with a small unlit fireplace, a sink, a gas stove, and a pair of rocking chairs, both unoccupied. The only light comes from a long, over-used torch that is hanging outside the window, which has to be what I saw when I was in the storm. I find others like it and touch them to the gentle flame, finding it hard to believe it's still even lit in such a storm, and I bring them in with me, one by one until I can see every detail of the place. There are two doors in the entire building. I crack the first to find a small bed, also unoccupied, and the second to find a bathroom. There is a small refrigerator- the kind that Father has in his office at the Center, one that fits beneath his desk so that the other kids and I can't try to sneak something out of it without him noticing. My stomach beckons me to the tiny thing and I realize I can't remember the last time I ate something. I can't really remember... anything. I open it, and it's mostly filled with bottled water. There is a small plastic bag filled with apples, and when I check them they are still fresh, so I take one of each item and stand, but they both hit the ground when I stand and see my reflection.
Because I am not Kellan Fray.
I am not even sure I am human entirely. Long, raven hair is soaked against my pale skin, with a grotesque beard in the same shade. My eyes are sickeningly blue. I wear only black, and a leather hat looms over my face, giving off shadows from the candle light that make me look like a monster. Fresh blood drips from my hands and forms puddles at both sides, dark, thick, warm blood now beneath my boots. My reflection smiles but I don't, and row after row of sharp, jagged teeth hiss at me, drool flying from a horrid smelling, now gaping hole in the center of it's face. I turn to run, knowing this one is a battle I cannot win alone, and that's when I see myself again.
I am lifeless, my midsection jagged and raw, almost as if I have just been the first meal for a very, very hungry animal. I hear a single laugh behind me, dark and menacing, and I scream.
But suddenly I am in a bed. Suddenly everything is okay. I jump up and find a mirror on the wall just to be sure, but I only see myself. I hear movement, and I snap my head around to see the no-longer-sleeping form of Pyrite Shore in the bed I had woken up in. Flashbacks of the drinking and the motel and the kissing rake against my throbbing skull and I can finally breathe again. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream.
"Sorry I woke you," Is all I say, and then I reclaim my spot on the bed next to her.
