Then Vincent was back. He had James by the face. Oh no, no, no. Had he done something wrong? Was Z punishing him for being weak? James tried to move away, but Vincent was on him, prying his jaw open. It hurt. So bad. Was this crazy man going to pull his jaw off? His mouth could not open as wide as it was being forced. It felt as if the corners of his mouth were going to rip at any second, give him a permanent smile. He could feel his teeth coming loose, shifting in his gums with the force Vincent was pushing on them. The man was so strong. How was he so strong? Or was James just weak? So weak. Merely a child, a useless blind weakling. Somehow, James's blind eyes managed to meet Vincent's one still whole eye. Was it better that he couldn't see the ghastly sight before him?
He could feel blood spattering from Vincent's ruined eye onto his face. How ironic. Almost...funny. Too bad he wouldn't be able to reach the other eye. If he was going to be jaw-less, then why shouldn't he take this opportunity to plunge his finger in to the other eye. On purpose. And make it hurt. Maybe keep a bit, just for the sake of it. But James knew he couldn't, and he lay, squirming feebly and making soft sounds of discomfort, tears streaming down his bloody face, defeat welling in his belly. And then he felt a new presence in his mouth. Something cool and sharp. Something that did not bode well for James.
And It was caressing his tongue in a away that was almost gentle. Like a snake, weaving back and forth enticingly before sinking poison tipped teeth into flesh. And then it bit. It started to slice the muscle James loved so dearly, intent on separating it from his body. Blood welled in James's mouth, the metallic bitter taste making James's hear race with fear. His reaction was immediate. He struggled, a moaning wail gurgling his his throat, muffled by the hand keeping his jaw open. His body bucked, but to no avail. The man on him was more superior, stronger, and he had a knife. And all James had was his voice. But not for much longer. And then it came to him. A way to make the pain not hurt. He relaxed, the wail dying. There was no point in struggle, so why not just give him permission? Then it would be James's pain. Under James's control.
And then a laugh bubbled in James's throat. He couldn't help it. He laughed as the knife separated his tongue from the rest of his body. Perfect! Everything was in James's control, if only he'd give things permission to happen! His body shook with the force of the laughter pouring from his throat and suddenly he was five again, just after taking a tumble from the third story apartment where he and the rest of his family lived. He'd merely broken a leg, and cut himself up something awful, but he hadn't cried. He'd just lay there, laughing his brains out, because falling was so much fun, even when the impact had near killed him, and it hurt less to laugh than to cry.
Lying there, an angry albino cutting his tongue out, salty tear residue and blood coating the boy's face, all James could do was laugh. That is how he wanted to go. he wanted to die laughing. Then he started to choke on the blood running down his throat, alternating from laughing, loud gurgling laughs that made blood run from the corners of his mouth like it was trying to escape the madness, and coughing, trying to rid himself from the blood. He managed to get it all over Vincent's face, both V's hands, and all down his own front. So much blood. And he made no effort to escape, merely lay there giggling and coughing, hiccuping occasionally. Such delicious pain. Pain he would never taste again, so he must savor it while he could.
The albino looked down and regained his unamused expression. "Happy?" he inquired, lowering the knife and using it to cut the sides of his mouth just slightly - enough to make them easier to rip, but not enough to do much damage on their own. He kept his fist in for a moment before retracting it from the man's mouth. "If you truly are happy with the pain, make yourself as 'happy' as possible." he said, turning and moving away from James. He would leave it up to the boy if he loved the pain so much that he wanted to rip that smile into his face for good and then die of blood loss or just just lie there and slowly waste away, too caught up in his laughter to realized the gift the albino had just bestowed upon him. V moved over to the grate, admiring the tongue that was still impaled upon the knife the whole way. His eye continued to bleed down his face, but he ignored it for now. V couldn't hear that fearful inner Vincent anymore, or was just ignoring it entirely, his senses completely devoured by an all-engulfing sense of satisfaction. He tilted the knife, letting the tongue slip towards the grate, smiling as it slowly revealed the ruby red sheen on the blade. "Beautiful,"
Vincent was a man no more, he had found V - And V was his monster.
Z like name. Is Goddess of Love, Goddess of Jealousy...Adrianna have none. Aphrodite have all. Aphrodite Z's Goddess.
As Z watch V feed Room, smile. "Yes," Z laugh, happy. "Very, very beautiful." Z extend hand. "The knife, please, my Immortal friend." Receive knife. Smile more. Tear off shirt. Shirt was dumb. Hide scars...so many scars...wondrous scars of wondrous stories. "I should have done this a long time ago." Z take knife, cut "Z" into chest. Laugh as blood drip.
"Now, even when Zenith believes he is strong, when he thinks he can strike me down...he will know. He belongs to the mighty God Z!"
"No," Aphrodite smiles, her teeth glistening devilishly. "Are you willing to be my God?" She watched, amused, as Z's face showed slight surprise...and then a sense of pleasure, returning the smile.
"Of course, my dear." Z said this with a caress, running his fingers across her face.
She returned the favor, pressing deeply into him, her lips meeting his. The blood off his chest absorbed into her shirt, the red "Z" mirrored onto the cotton. She kissed at him savagely, lustfully...hungrily. Her nails raked upon his neck, leaving white marks that faded slowly into red. She wanted him. And, by God, she would have him.
She already had God. He was here in her arms.
She pulled away, gasping, her head against his chest, oblivious to anything but her God. She smiled, purring against his chest. But something was wrong. She looked up into her lover's eyes...and then growled. She saw a scared boy...not her God.
Zenith came to, finding Adrianna purring against his bare chest. What? He backed away a few steps. "A-Adrianna? Wah-what's going on?" Adrianna only growled in return, first staring longingly at his chest, the an angry glare to him. Zenith looked down to see the Z carved upon himself. He began to shudder. "Oh God, no..."
Adrianna then flew at him, knocking him to the ground. She knelt upon his chest, beating the face of Zenith. "GIVE HIM BACK!" She screeched as he felt blood pool in his mouth, causing his yelps of pain to spray blood. "GIVE ME MY GOD! GIVE HIM BACK!"
Zenith blubbered, his voice lost in the sounds. He silenced as one shone through.
Give it up. I win.
Aphrodite went to throw yet another punch at the face, when it was caught by the man. She growled at first, then, looking into the eyes, smiled and purred. She kissed him, even more hungrily than before. As she pulled away, she atop of her God, she smiled, almost dreamlike. "You taste delicious, my God." She giggled and licked the blood from off her lips.
"Aaahee?" James repeated as Vincent fed James's tongue to the room.The guttural syllables making his raw throat hurt. Those were the only words he could make now, the horridly animal-like noises. Was that what he was now? And animal fit only to die? No. No he wasn't. James hiccuped as he flipped himself onto his stomach, letting blood pour from his lips into the palm of his hand. Then he struggled to his knees, to his feet leaning against the wall heavily. He was very dizzy from blood loss, but his next move would be, to James, the most important thing he'd ever write. He had to be remembered. Immortalized here on this wall. No one in this room knew his name, yet here he was, going and starting to die without introducing himself properly.
So he started to write his obituary in his own blood. Slowly, trying vainly to keep his hand steady and write neatly. Or, at least, as neatly as a blind boy could. Good thing he'd learned to write properly. Most blind people don't bother, it is such a difficult task, but James had started young.
'James Michael Hart' in smeared downhill letters. But it was legible.
'Born-June 3, 1992'
'He lived miserable and alone, but he died in glorious company.' Then he proceeded to write each name with painstaking care as he slid slowly down the wall.
'Billy-Adrianna-Vincent-Zenith' he wrote in sloped letters, dipping his left index finger into the blood so many times the letters dripped with it.
"Aahee oh." he said as he ripped the sleeve off the right side of his shirt, strengthened by desperation. He stuffed it in his mouth and then tumbled sideways, barely conscious. Maybe he'd just lie here for a bit. Maybe longer than a bit, it felt so nice. The scrunched up cloth in his mouth absorbed the blood, staunched the flow, but it wouldn't for long. He'd need to... James drifted from consciousness in the middle of his thought, eyes half open and his body barely moving with each desperate breath. He was on his side, facing the wall, his right hand behind him, the blood drying slowly as James grappled with death.
she hid herself in a corner as she watched Vincent cut out james's tongue, Z and Aphrodite fall in love, beat the crap out Zenith, and then Z come back. She laughed at the thought, the thought of how a few simple words and actions could make a girl go insane and fall in love with the person how made her that way. Gods, if there were a thing as Gods, they would have saved her by now, saved them all. her insanity was rising again, she wanted to hurt someone. she looked around for a sharp object before she found the last piece of the broken pill bottle, it was nice and sharp.
she dragged across her arm, across every vein, covering her arm in a blanket of blood before she stood over Z and Aphrodite, covering them in her own blood. she giggled, her sanity was in the back of her mind, yelling at her, "if you keep this up you'll loose your mind and never survive!" it said. billy giggle once more as she thought yelled back at, "but in this case." she looked around the room, at all the people, "INSANITY = SURVIVAL!" she screamed, letting her crazed mind take complete control. she looked back down and smiled a Z, "You want to hear a riddle god." she said, a crazed smile spreading over her lips.
She bent down to where she was hovering over him, "What is greater than god." she looked Z dead in the eyes, letting him know there was no going back from what was taking over her. "more evil than the devil." she looked at V. "the poor have it." she glanced over at James. "and the rich need it." she starred at Aphrodite before she laughed and slammed herself against the wall and slid down it and sat, looking around the room at everyone. "Nothing, nothing is greater than god." she looked back at Z. "nothing is more evil than the devil." she starred at V as if she were trying to see his soul. "The poor have nothing."
she looked of at James, still lying on the floor. "And the rich need nothing!" she broke into a fit of laughter as she slammed the piece of broken bottle into her thigh and dragging it down until it hit her knee. "Isn't more fun when you hurt yourself?" she said, licking the blood off her weapon. "i think it is!" she said before she broke into another fit of laughter and the lights went out.
[sorry i haven't posted in a while, been to caught up with school.]
As the lights turned off, he placed his hand upon her cheek, caressing it as a father would his daughter. "Of course it is...do you feel it? The power?" He smiled to the darkness. "If you can learn it more...you could be a Goddess, too." His other hand wrapped around Aphrodite's body, holding her close. "What do you think, my love?"
Aphrodite smiled, purring against her lover. "I think..." She bit at the nape of his neck, enjoying the cool privacy of the dark. "I think, if she proves herself...she would make a great daughter for you, my God."
Aphrodite gave a look of wonder as her God forced the light to come back on. She looked to him. "No, Z, I do not."
"'Help me', Aphrodite," Z said, slight wonder in his eyes and voice. "Our friend, the Room, needs us...from the Gods it founded, breaking down the weak, it now asks for our help." Z pondered, then shouted to the ceiling, "O Room! We are here! Tell us what you require help for!"
No, he wasn't think back to that. He shouldn't delve into his thoughts and contemplate about something that shouldn't have happened anyway. He slowly looked back up, bleeding eye throbbing sharply, making his breathing a bit heavier. He looked up at the writing on the wall with his good eye, immediately registering it. 'Help me', but backwards. It was a bad riddle, if it was meant to be one. "What do you want from us?" he asked, clearly lacking the hysteria that V had, although he was not too much less, still as cold and calculating as V - Just slightly more feeling, but so easily was that fixed.
(Short post, hectic day. Will post tomorrow ASAP, AQAP♥)
The chain gave James just enough leeway to reach Vincent as he scrambled as fast as he could, scooting up right next to the man. Quick as he could he reached out, aiming for the face, but instead of chin, cheek, forehead, or even eye socket, his hand met something soft. Oh so soft. Hair. James made a delighted squeak, a surprisingly loud sound, so loud it made James jump. He hadn't known he could make a sound so...loud. Thoughts of revenge long gone and eyes glazed, he tangled his fingers in the soft locks. He didn't even register the danger that he could be in, sitting next to Vincent, a man with a knife, petting the albino's head. He was in the moment. He didn't even have a concept of future anymore. Just now. No past, no future. And this was such fun, stroking the soft strands of hair. Even though it was dirty and tangled. So soft.
James was filled with an immeasurably delight. He hadn't felt something this soft in a couple hours! Such a long time ago. He had the urge to just bury his face into this glorious softness and melt. The single second he'd had his hands in Vincents hair stretched out to James, the single heartbeat becoming decades, lifetimes in James's mind. A moment of forever.
Suddenly, he heard scrambling and felt something up against him.
Someone was touching him. Someone was touching him.
He could feel someone squeak and quickly turned his head to look at James. James was stroking his hair like some kind of furry animal, making his heartrate spike. What the hell was he doing!? Why the hell was he touching him!? 'Don't touch me,' he clenched his jaw lightly. 'Stop touching me!' Right now, Vincent just couldn't bring himself to push the man away though, what was left of his reason still convincing him not to. Soon, the man would bleed to death anyway. Vincent let out a low groan of pain, bringing his hand up to his ruined eye. It stung. It hurt. It burned. The view of the world he once treasured and admired through pale, silverblue eyes was destroyed - Left only by a gaze broken by the red stain of blood. He was dyed with a crimson he could not remove now. Vincent did his best not to jump when a blood droplet fell from the ceiling, falling onto his hand.
Slowly, he reached up and looked at the blood with the vision of his only remaining sight-bearing eye. Then, a note. Moving just enough to snatch the note before it touched the ground, he caught it. He looked down at the note, trying to act as normal as possible.
"343," he read out loud, voice shuddering with an intense feeling of discomfort since James was still molesting the soft, silver strands of his hair. He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. For the sake of the boy he, or 'V', had muted, he would just let him do so until he died from blood loss. However, if he didn't die for a while, Vincent might really have to finish him off - His flesh was crawling from the unpleasant sensation. He felt threatened, almost violated. V stirred inside of him after just a moment, making the man's frame shake just slightly in the form of a shudder. Oh god, Vincent could feel V. What was happening to him here? He wasn't acting anything like Vincent, nor was he acting like V. This place, these people, this situation was breaking him now - Slowly, but surely, it was breaking him down.
James reached out for the warm body again, catching an arm, the arm that was holding the note, and buried his face in it. So scary. Scary. Scary. He breathed in chocking gasps, trying to escape from the scariness by clutching tighter to the arm. It was warm, safe, real, alive, good. James leaned on the warm body now, shaking in fear. He didn't like this darkness. Why wouldn't it go away? And this pain. It was following him, it moved when he did, staying with his body, in his mouth, in his head. Oh it hurt. But this warmth, oh this warmth? It didn't hurt him, so it must be good. And the voice, and the softness. Good. Blood continued dribbling in a steady stream down the young man's chin. James started to feel rather sleepy as well. Pleasantly so. This warmth was lulling him to sleep. Sleep. Good. He yawned widely, displaying his stump of a tongue for all to see. An then he pressed himself closer to the warmth, shutting his eyes.
[i got writes block, sorry it short.]