Snippet #2714060

“I’ve found three other houses that are willing to take you, seriously man just let me come help you pack up”.

If Cass had known his brothers spontaneous offer to buy him lunch was going to be another drawn out attempt to get him to move, he’d have said he was busy. Graham had this ability to sound completely sincere and relaxed at the same time, but Cass could practically smell the worry oozing off him. Every attempt to get him to move was entirely within Cass’s best interest and it pained him that Graham’s attempts would never work. After every fucked up thing he’d done at 1648, Cass was forever bound to that house and his room mates, no matter how much it killed his brother to watch. He hated that he couldn’t explain what they had done that night, hated that he couldn’t explain what he had done a week later. Tying that noose, throwing it up over the old tree and testing whether it would hold his weight…

Cass took another bite of the teriyaki soaked chicken and chose to thoroughly chew the food rather then answer. Cooked meat made his throat close up and stomach churn, but he forced it down under the watchful stare of his older brother.

“Answers still the same, I can’t move”, He pointed his fork across the table, “Anyway, you’ll be graduated in a year and I don’t want to get stuck with your friends without you here. And I know they are weird, trust me I know. But it’s a good kind of weird”, He paused when Graham continued to look unimpressed, “Look, they’d never do anything to hurt me, alright?”

Flashes of At’s worried face hovering above him, tear stained and red eyed but still one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. That tree branch above them, empty ended rope still swinging from the weight of his body. Louis and Ryder further away with terror etched across their faces, breathing like they’d just run a marathon. He rememberd wondering what was wrong with everyone till his gums suddenly itched and he was overwhelmed with the captivating tang of copper.

“It freaks me out more that you have to convince me of that. You shouldn’t have to tell people that your room mates would never hurt you, that’s just a given” Cass rolled his eyes and took another too-big bite of the overcooked meat, letting Graham’s very valid response go unanswered. His brother hefted out a very exaggerated sigh and leaned back in his chair, folded arms keeping him from strangling the younger Aisling, “You realize I could just tell mom and dad?”

He’d used this threat before and had never followed through with it. Cass was sure Graham had a vague understanding that something was Different- his terminally ill brother suddenly never coughed anymore, never called for emergency doctor visits, and no longer carried around an oxygen tank. The explanations had varied between; ‘I’m just feeling so much better!’ and ‘I started a new treatment’, but Cass knew it was inevitable that he would need to explain. And right now, the thought of explaining something to Graham terrified him. The thought of explaining to his parents seemed near impossible.

“Just trust me Graham, they really aren’t as bad as you make them out to be. And its me, seriously, you think I’d let them talk me into anything too crazy?” His cheeks quivered cause if Graham iknew, he'd kill Cass for lying to him. At least he'd never stay dead.


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Atlas was on the porch when Graham dropped them off. Above all else, Graham seemed to despise Atlas the most, so of course the cheeky shit saluted his brother with a lecherous grin while they sat idle in the driveway. One of the reasons Cass never held Graham’s negativity towards his housemates against him was shit like this- Atlas could at least try to make his brother not think he was the devil. He got out quickly, eager to get Graham out of there, and headed up the stairs to the house.

“You gotta do that?” he asked as he reached the top step, avoiding eye contact by staring at the cigarette. Of course, Atlas chose that time to take a drag, so Cass ended up getting distracted by his lips instead.

Atlas released the cigarette and let loose a steady stream of smoke, the tendrils curling towards him just enough that he could smell the musty smell of tobacco. He hated that smell, but the image of that smoke coming out of Atlas’s mouth made him think he was going to start liking it soon.

"He gotta look at me like I'm Rosemary's Baby every time he drops you off?" Atlas’s blue eyes were dark in the dim lighting of the porch- with the smoke sliding out of his mouth and that smooth little smirk still in place, Cassidy understood entirely why Graham mistook this beautiful man for a demon.

“J-just, just, I don’t know, behave when he comes around” He’d said that a million times before and he knew repeating it wouldn’t make Atlas act any different. Especially since Cass had lost any ability to look at him- the rough paneling on the side of the house suddenly far more interesting.

“Sure love” Cass’s eyes widen slightly and he looks back at his housemate, his nerves rattling cause he enjoys that word a bit to much on Atlas’s tongue, “I'll try my absolute hardest to be good next time." That cheery smile is turned demonic by the dripping sarcasm, and suddenly Cass is very Uninterested in being anywhere near Atlas Blake. He gives at very momentarily unimpressed glare before spinning on his heel and heading inside.

Ryder and Louis are in the living room, but Cass blows through for the kitchen. He sets a pot boiling as he pulls out a raw steak from the fridge tosses it in the microwave while he gets his tea ready. There’s about one mug left in the cabinet- he’s pretty sure the rest are stacked on his desk- and he briefly considers getting them in order to offer the rest of the house some tea as well. But the microwave dings and his briefly overtook with a bubbly need instead. Microwaved raw meat is never as good as it should be, but the smell itself makes his mouth water and gums itch. Of course, those sharp teeth will never slide through while he’s still alive.

Cass shuts his bedroom door a little too loudly, his movements frantic while he sets down the steaming steak and tea on his floor. His body on auto pilot- cause if he ever stopped to think about this too long, hes sure he’d go crazy. He reaches under his bed and pulls out a shoe box. Inside are a few packets of pills, white powder, and needles procured by Louis (he never asked how), and a gun. He’d been honestly bothered by how easy it had been to find- he’d started off asking around in class, saying he was interested in learning to shoot, and people always seemed to want to help. Especially if he pulled out his old oxygen tank and nose tube. The handgun’s a relatively small Springfield, purchased illegally from some shady dude Cass quickly tried to forget. He’d decided to buy the gun after overdosing on the drugs Louis had gotten him… it had been uncomfortable to say the least and way to many different bodily fluids for him to deal with after. His only issue was the noise, but maybe it wouldn’t be loud enough to hear from his room?

Cass inhaled and once again the coppery warm smell of that steak made his stomach squeeze in on itself. Hungry eyes turned to the steak, then back to the gun, and he released his breath.

The black metal of the gun was jarringly cold against his temple. He tried to ignore the suddenly loud beating of his heart, favoring the smell of the steak instead. Breath in, breath out. People feared death because it was the end, a period on their entire life. But Cass could experience something no one else could; death without an end.

So he pulled back the safety, urged his shaking hand to still, and fired.

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Its always a sliding motion, when he comes back. Like his soul was just momentarily misplaced and it took just a little jerk to realigned Him with his body. Except without his human soul, his body shifts to what it would be like if he never made it back. Fingers lengthened into black claws, the charred looking skin eating up to his forearms like he was dipped in black ink. A line of razor-sharp shark-like teeth replace his own, designed for biting and ripping into flesh.

Flesh.
Meat.
Blood.

He’s aware of four sources in the room, three of them fresh and pumping and singing to him. He inhales before he opens his eyes and his mind slips again- slides somewhere between his body and wherever else he goes. It moves on autopilot, black eyes opening, already focused on the doorway. He’s aware of those people, his friends, but right now his body sees them as something else.

Flesh.
Meat.
Blood.

His claws grow for ripping into that flesh, his teeth exist for dipping into that meat. And above all else his body wants blood, human blood, their blood. He moves blearily fast, the chunks of brain matter sticking to the side of his face and sliding down to his shoulder, and pivots in a crouch to face the three.

Of course, all three of them are entirely unimpressed. If they'd run in fear, he's sure he would have lost control completely and hunting them down. But, there is probably a mere three seconds of danger- this little Ghoul staring up at them with wide hunger filled black eyes, them staring back at him with varying expressions of bored, pissed, or inspired- before Cass grabs his body and yanks his mind back into place. His stance relaxes and he falls back of his haunches onto to the floor, right next to his still-warm steak.

"Ah, sorry guys" His voice is off, rough like is hasn't been used in days and his tongue too thick in his teeth lined mouth. He flashes them an apologetic 'Cassidy Aisling Grin', forgetting that his cheery sun-filled smile is a bit off with a mouth full of razors, "Was a bit hungry"

Then his hold on his body slips minutely, enough that his audience is of little interest to him and the smell of raw steak takes full hold of his attention.