Mr X.

[[Writing music: Incubus-Megalomaniac.]]

Darren’s whole body ached with stinging pain. It wasn’t severe, just aggravating; a constant dull ache punctuated with sharpness each time he managed to knock aggravated flesh. He watched as Mr X sat holding the knife still, staring straight ahead blankly. Darren could see his own blood dripping to the floor, joining with the other victims.

‘I despise you,’ Mr X snarled suddenly. Darren just listened. ‘I despise the power you hold over me, I despise that every time I hurt you, it hurts me too. I despise that I know inside that I’ll never kill you, that you will be my undoing.’ Darren opened his mouth to respond, but cd itd it as Mr X murmured an instruction for him not to speak. Dawn was approaching. Darren felt exhaustion plucking at his alertness, at his ability to concentrate. Mr X looked the same as always. ‘If you’re tired, sleep, Darren.’

‘I don’t want to die,’ was Darren’s automatic response.

‘And you think being awake means you’ll be able to stop me? Ye a e a weak and frail creature, Darren. You’re unable to fight away anything. You need protecting.’ Darren chuckled softly. From people just like Mr X, he mused. ‘Yes, Darren. From people like me.’ Darren found himself approaching again, and as his arms wrapped around Mr X, very gently, he took the knife from his hands. He reached a hand up and caressed the black locks, sighed as Mr X collapsed against him. Slowly, he lifted the knife; it gleamed in the flickering light as Mr X’s manic eyes had before. Darren felt a choked sob rising in his throat. And with as much force as he could muster, he drove the knife downwards, slicing through the air and plunging it into the back of Mr X. There was no struggle. Just warm blood seeping through the fabric as Mr X merely stared at him with hard black eyes, and all they spoke was hurt.

Darren found himself at the police station. He was not to be charged for the assault on Mr X, and the court hacidecided Mr X was clearly mad, and instead of the punishment of imprisonment, he had been institutionalised. The officer opposite rambled about things Darren couldn’t care less about. Richard was outside. Since this episode, they had not been seen separate; Richard was even living with him now. This had torn Richard and Amanda apart utterly, and now they did not see the girl at all anymore.

‘You’re free to go, Mr Marshall,’ The Officer repeated. Darren nodded dazedly, knocked out of his reverie, and stood. ‘Carlos Sanguine is being detained at Oakley Residential. It’s not far from here, but I would not panic, Mr Marshall. It’s very secure.’ Darren just smiled wanly and nodded again. His voice seemed dead. As he left, Rid wad was attached to his side immediately.

‘God I can’t believe that guy hurt you so much Darren, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.’ He moved to continue, but Darren quietened him.

‘Stop it Rich… It’s over now… I just don’t want to think about him anymore,’ His bruised eyes stung and burnt again with tears, but he suppressed them. He suppressed his surprise as Richard’s hand met his, as strong tan fingers interlocked between his and a thumb caressed gently over the smooth white of the back of his hand. His eyes flickered across, but Richard was staring straight ahead with a look upon his face as ifwas was intensely concentrating. Darren smiled a little, a curve of his lips, and Richard turned to face him. Their walking seemed to pause a moment, though Richard’s grasp remained there.

‘I was so worried, Darren,’ Richard’s voice hitched as he spoke. Darren tried to speak, but Richard continued. ‘When you where gone… I just realised what I thought I’d missed out on…’ There was a silence between them. Darren shifted a little closer. ‘I mean… I knew about your crun men me in High school and… And sometimes when I looked at you, when you talked to me, I knew inside that it should have been you I was chasing after. Not girls like Mandy. I mean, fuckin’ Hell Darren, you’re the only human who’s never understood me really.’ Darren nodded. He really did understand Richard, and he understood when Richard was sincere and when he wasn’t. Upon a whim, he leant close, and grazed his lips to those of the taller male. In the middle of a crowded street, and all Richard seemed able to do was smile giddily, grasp his hand just a little tighter, and continue to walk.