Sycamore

~Warnings: for bad language, mentions of sex and rape. Nothing graphic....yet

Part I-A

My precious butterfly got away. But not for long. My butterfly needs to know he can't wander off as he pleases. Because I was the one who got him out from the lashing mob thirsty for fresh blood. And yet he acted so ungrateful... as if my touch burnt and my lips mauled.... as if all those times he came willingly to me, I was the one who forced him to go down on me. Silly butterfly. What a hypocrite.... If your staying here, wouldn't have erased your existence, I'd have gone to take you back.... How troublesome... and you got hurt already.


Poor little stray.... bleeding like that all alone, not even daring to think of me... much. I bet you're thinking about that silly mortal....to which I'm undoubtedly grateful, he made you, after all. What a pity it was that he didn't give a purpose also, he just sketched your wonderful shell and left you to develop on your own... How careless of him.... you both should be grateful. Ideas like my butterfly are fragile....having porcelain like quality to them, they need attention, to be cared for and nurtured. Not just drawn and forgotten in a drawing map.... No.... that's really not the way to go..... not if you don't mind being tortured folded times by the wrath of one of us.... Youngsters....always, always so ungrateful... Yet, don't worry my butterfly, I'll get myself in that reality, I'll make myself at home and I'll find you... Soon enough.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Blake’s POV

I don’t understand how it works… I know is had something to do with the intensity at which one is able to shape its will accordingly with the need at hand but other than that, the process in its entirety, it’s way beyond my limited cognitive possibilities. I doubt that those son of bitches at the Institute knew better otherwise I can’t explain why they shut them all, one day. God knows what the hell they stirred, whose cage they rattled and in which way it backfired. They’re not selling guidelines of how to make your own toy anymore since it just didn’t work like that. Whatever” they” are they need us just as an excuse.” When” they need us, would be better said. It’s been fifty, sixty years since all this madness began to manifest itself in our reality and it woke each and everyone of us from the apathy we used to drown ourselves in…. And as any new thing, any trend that’s not quite so easy to figure out, we packed it in a box, wrapped it in a nice bow and started commercializing it….


All this because of a little girl whose dog had died and the girl cried and cried and cried over again till apparently the story goes that the dog came back, only that it wasn’t her dog and it wasn’t even a dog to begin with. We called them Shades.” Shades with no shadow” was the trademark by which you could tell who’s a man and who’s lets say, different. Though it didn’t take long and when it happened, you couldn’t tell who’s who….. Yeah, that’s how the witch hunt began even though in those early years, nobody had actually done something bad. Yet that didn’t stop the rumors from wandering around or the advertisements…. making it all, seem like a child’s play…. And just a child’s play it wasn’t.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Flashback

I have no memory, no recollection of what I am… If I am… I have no persona, my features are barely holding themselves together and the only constant aspect are my eyes’ reflection in this puddle of red liquid, the same liquid that I can taste in my mouth…. These eyes of mine…. Do they even belong to me??? I find them irritating, I feel like ripping them off yet I know that these eyes of mine are the only thing keeping me alive. Question that arises now is… Do I want to live? Those things, incubuses?!?? …. whatever they were, hurt me. Could have even done much, much worse, if it wasn’t for that man, who grabbed me from that place and mended my scabbing wounds and yet I feel no gratitude towards him. Deep down, I feel that he has done me a great disservice and in the future I foresee, more of this feeling that made my eyes water, more of this sensation that feels as if my body has been through a melting pot of scalding wax.


“The faster you stop feeling sorry for yourself the sooner you can be my guest to commit suicide.”


That man’s voice is so soft and it freezes my bones to the point of cracking…. All the words pouring out of his mouth have a certain degree of cruelty attached to them that I imagine will become quite annoying in the following days of my convalescence.


“Oh you naughty little butterfly… how daring you are and also so fortunate that I ain’t one of those who pluck out the wings of precious things. You are so divine in all your innocence. Ellipsis has found himself quite a nice catch but Ellipsis has always been a very lucky man, haven’t I, now? Don’t worry butterfly I won’t harass you in any way you’re still too young to fathom but you’ll crawl to me to seek the haven that bastard master of yours forget to give.”


At this point his words fail to phase me in any way whatsoever. It has something to do with my inability to care for anything including myself. I have no wish, no desire, no fear, no nothing and I do not want to be filled with anything either, the way I am, is just fine. His tantalizing words to do not reach me, in this cocoon of mine I am safe and if I disappear it will be alright. Therefore I should follow his initial advice.


Which might be a tad complicated since he’s always watching. Eyes of his are everywhere even on this poor copy of a bed. Eyes breathing me in and breathing within me, eyelashes batting in a cadence persuading me to wake up. But waking up would imply letting the salty liquid accumulated, ran down my face and that is something I’m not quite fond of. One thing is certain I don’t associate that state with my being.


“But you are a tabula rasa, butterfly. You can’t start forsaking things just because you do not know what they are. Don’t make me turn into a big cliché and tell you that you shouldn’t fear them. Only by experience you can deduce what’s good and what’s malignant”


Right, if that’s the case than you’re surely malignant and wipe that smug smile of your face, you son of a bitch. How dare you tell me what to do. Stop shushing for crying out loud, leave me alone….. And just as that he’s gone, tsk-tsk-ing away.


“I gotta give it to you, kid… I’ve never gotten myself a punk-butterfly and something tells me dressed up in a bondage gear and collared all up, being fed from my gentle hands and having to drink from a bowl, with the letters “Bun” inscribed on it, won’t quite suit you. And now I wonder what am I gonna do with you… To screw with you won’t be such a complicated thing but to fuck you up, I just can’t bring myself to do it.”


I reckon I should be grateful, he looks like someone who could rid you off of your control and rape you any way he pleases. Guess it ain’t sexual harassment if two are playing the game and so I ask him what’s my name.


“You pick, all my other pets bitched when I baptized them…. And once I do something I’m afraid I can never take it back…. There one more evidence of my generosity…. Bath in it, you sweet, little troublemaker.”


I figure it would kill him not to be so gross…. And that laughter of his, certainly he will slip down into a coma, if he’s to live without it.


“So? What have you decided?”


Blues, I’ll call myself Blues. Does he happen to know how it was possible for me to exist?


“Geez kid… You’d better had asked for a Banana Split….that I know how to make. But you are so complicated in all your apparent simplicity and did I mentioned I can’t wait to kiss those lips, to claim my dominance over them and to plunder that little mouth of yours with all my might… Sorry, just had to get that out of my system…. Now, where was I? Obviously you are a more evolved version of myself since I as well am nothing but unique in this little place I love to call, home…. Whose actual name is not one that’s really an appropriate one, Nous….place of the pure intellect, of Ideal Ideas… What a fucked up irony those mortal had the balls to come up with…. Defining us by their standards is not a recommended action since it’s known as an extreme sport around here. And there’s a little girl out there, who learned her lesson big time.”

So basically besides not being real, we are what? And more so how do you get out of here?


“By begging me to release you in exchange of sexual services, of course.”


So basically he doesn’t know….


“Oh I know boy, have no doubt about that… the only thing is that it’s not about what I know. This world is not funded on principles, chaos is its middle name and each and every one of its inhabitants is free to come and go as he pleases. Sort of…. You get the drift, anyway, Blues… Gosh, you can’t possibly imagine what effect you have on me. Those bloody green eyes of yours…So, so….so icy.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Present Time


Blues’ POV


Never in a million years, could I have imagined that flesh felt like this…. So heavy that it’s gross, so easily tampered with, so easily to be torn, barely showing any resistance. And pain….. not helpful at all. Unlike our pain, this sort is destructive, it hinders your movement and paralyzes you with fear. Déjà vu is killing me. To be rescued from a similar situation again and of all people by him. What was his name, Blake Something-Something, none other than…. Bet Ellipses is having the time of his life just about now. Why can't my thoughts neatly stay in order, why the hell do they keep popping out and why the fuck am I experiencing the same sensation as back then. I’m not that thing anymore. If Ellipses was here he’d obviously say I’m fooling myself…. This shell is illusory and it will quickly disappear…. Shades as Blake called us, aren’t designed for bleeding bodies though as means of transportation they certainly help, at first….when you’re desperate enough that you’d let yourself be screwed by any asshole just so you could…do what? Cuddle in another’s son’s of bitch embrace…. Need to chill, what did Ellipsis say about wraith? Is unstable particularly in the state I’m in? Whose wouldn’t if he’d been gang raped like I was. fuck, just fuck it. fuck you, Ellipsis. I’ll prove you wrong. I’m nobody’s fuck toy. And what happened I’ll erase it just like I did every time I left your bed and scrubbed your touch, your cum, your love bites, off my body.


“You awake, Electric Green?”


I’d love to answer if I could. My throat’s too hoarse from all the yelling and how to phrase it, other activities it has taken part into and for fear of the “teary eye” condition I refuse to open the lids. Let this voice do all the talking. I’m hardly in any position to dismiss it, anyway…. This voice so familiar, whose lullabies sung have occasionally, led me to blank dreams… Which were my relief and to which I am really grateful. The only thing I’ve ever been really grateful….


“I can’t stop what happened to you from replaying on and on in my head. Which in turn made me believe and accept the responsibility. I feel like going insane and you’re so many thousands miles away from me. I’m pathetic right, figure that we both are, no offense. Since Cella says that I had something to do with you, though she doubts it in a way... Don’t think I wanna fathom the gravity of the situation yet.”


You and me both…. Considering how I’ll probably end up at the receiving end this time as well….For Pete’s sake is sex the only goddamned thing on my mind? …. In my naivety I’d have liked to think that despite all of Ellipsis screwing, my mind was locked safely away. Who was I trying to kid…. I’m nothing more that what that delusional kid used to be…..fuck it. I need to sleep.


“It’s pointless I know…. But I regret what I did or what at least I inspired. I’m sorry.”


TBC
R&R