Turmoil Behind The Mirror
folder
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
1,999
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
1,999
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Turmoil behind the mirror
Title: Turmoil Behind The Mirror
Author: Timelessness
Summary: Who said a killer had no feelings , no remorse , no purpose ? ; Jon decides to take his aesthete’s taste to purer things ; until some guy decided to cross his path .
Rating: R , later NC-17
Pairing(s): Don\'t want to spoil my crappy story , but it will be M/M
Feedback: Please , please , please R&R ?
Characters: Original characters .
Betas: KarmaKiller : Thanks a lot for beaing my beta for this fic !!!
Author’s notes:
1- I\'m wasted.
2- English isn\'t my native language .
3- Hope you like it. Please R&R.
Disclaimer: I\'m not making any money out of this . AFF has just established the discalimer\'s policy , and I\'m not enjoying having to write one for each one of my sroties , I\'m too lazy ...
----------------------------------
{The voice}
“Dialogue”
//Thoughts//
The night was silent. The only thing shattering the quietness of the
dark was a ragged breathing. He was having problems trying to conceal
sleep, again. Pills weren’t working for him this time; he had been awake
for almost three days now. He tossed away the sheets and fully opened
his eyes. The clock marked four in the morning.
//Shit//
While still lying on his bed, he lit a cigarette and quietly smoked it.
He stood up and started pacing around the room. It was a mess. Dirty
clothes were everywhere to be seen, along with cigarette butts all over
the place, and ashtrays to rival them. Syringes were over the night
table and empty bottles under the bed. He paced around the room for a
while, walked over the waste on the floor, went to the kitchen, and grabbed
a beer from the fridge. He had to start getting ready for school in two
hours.
//This sucks!//
He sunk in the sofa at the living room, beer at hand and lit another
cigarette. Another puff; he watched the smoke tracing funny figures in
the air and giggled at it.
//Nice//
He finished the beer in two more gulps, discarded the cigarette, and
went to bed. He later woke to the alarm clock.
//Ahhh//
The morning sun irritated him. He just stirred and groaned.
//I can’t miss school again. Ahh, sad//
He stood up and dressed himself. Black pants; black t-shirt. He grabbed
his backpack and went out. Shortly after, he found himself walking down
the street. He could smell the scent of the morning sun and the
suffocating yearning.
“Hey, Jon.”
He ignored the voice, but it kept on trying.
“What’s up?”
“Nothin’, really,” he said, almost to himself.
The way to school passed by in silence and he found himself thankful
for it. Finally, those cold corridors stared at him once again.
//Philosophy.... I guess//
He walked toward the room, knocked on the door, and opened it.
“Mr. Weller? Late again, I see.”
A sigh escaped his lips and took a seat in the back. He brought out his
notebook and started taking notes, or at least tried to. Eventually, he
just gave up and began doodling all over his paper, until he realized
the girl sitting next to him was fixated on his drawings and quick
notes.
//What the fuck is she looking at?//
Jon decided to stare back at her.
“You lost something, babe?”
The girl just shrugged and looked away.
“Mr. Weller!”
“What?” he muttered.
“Out!”
//Hummm//
He grabbed his belongings and went to the schoolyard, sat down against
a tree, and lit a cigarette. He took out a notebook and started a new
drawing, but stopped when he noticed a guy staring at him. That gaze
began disturb him....
//What the hell is wrong with them?!//
The rest of the morning went by without being noticed.
At noon he decided to go home, none of his teachers would let him in
anyway. On the way home, he realized he needed it .That was what
had been bothering him lately. Looking at the sky, he began to wonder as
heavy clouds threatened the town with rain.
//It’s early still. At least the sun hid behind the clouds. So
beautiful//
He ran the tip of his tongue over the bottom lip, lost in thoughts.
He then bent down and went through his backpack, looking for what he
needed to get the job done. His fingers found the case in silent
amusement.
{Do what is in your nature to do and you’ll know what it is to be
held in that light for which you strive. Follow the moon’s bloody path…
to Paradise.}
He frowned, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
//Don’t// He then began to think about it for a few minutes.
//Not much I can do//
He began his usual wandering on the streets, until his pray caught his
eye. He watched all of her movements. He could smell her; her scent,
her sex, her naïveté, her beauty.
Her soul.
He stalked her for a few blocks until he caught her pace.
“Hi.”
“Well, hi,” she said with a smile and a giggle. That idiotic smile
angered him. “Do I know you?” she asked flirtatiously.
He gave her the warmest of his half-smiles. He knew his intense eyes
and well-defined jaw would help him, they always did. Girls always fell
for him, although he didn’t care. He never looked at himself in the
mirror; he hated it. It made him nauseous. He felt his soul staring back at
him intently when he did, and didn’t like what he could read in his own
stare.
He had never been good for words. He had never been good at talking.
But it always worked. They never refused.
“Hey, I’ve just been kicked out of school, but I got some good stuff
here and there isn’t much to do around here....” He gave her a courteous
smile and a seductive glance.
“Yeah, sure... why not? What’s your name anyway?”
“Jonathan.”
They walked for about twenty minutes and the girl wouldn’t shut up. She
just kept babbling about everything that crossed her mind. Clothes,
cars, TV, magazines.... So vain. So fucking vain it got to his nerves.
Finally, they reached the place he had in mind. Not far away from
civilization, but not close for anyone to hear. He wanted her to be found.
He wanted his work to be seen, to be appreciated, to be seized.
//So quiet. So beautiful//
He inhaled the smell deeply. The woods comforted him at all times. He
felt at peace, even though she wouldn’t shut her mouth for even a
second.
//So annoying. But I like it here//
He smiled to himself.
They sat on a clearing. He went through the items in his backpack once
again, and he noticed she was too close to him.
“Wait a sec,” he mumbled. “Here it is.” Taking out a small pipe, he
offered it to her.
Her small frame and pretty face touched him. She couldn’t have been
older than fourteen. Her trustful eyes were looking at him. She inhaled a
puff deeply and quickly, and then another. She held her breath and
handled the pipe to him.
A few minutes passed and already she was stupefied. He was almost
immune to that crap; he had been smoking it for five years.
He took out his “tool box” from the pack: A small, flashy metal case.
She pressed herself against him. He could feel her breasts against his
chest. The girl gave him a chaste kiss.
//So warm//
He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed her body closer
to his, while his other arm went tentatively to open the metal case
without making noise. His long fingers archived it.
His lips never leaving hers, he deepened the kiss. Leaving her waist,
he went to her breasts; he could feel the already erect nipples through
her shirt. The left hand found what it was looking for.
The blade. The sensual dagger he so fiercely loved. He smiled at
himself and tucked it in his pocket. Now with his two hands roaming the
willing form against him, he deepened the kiss even more. The girl moaned.
He took her shirt off. Her breasts now pressed against him without
restraint. He pinched a nipple and then kissed it, running his tongue over
it afterward. His victim was now completely lost. He laid her on the
ground; the lithe body trembled with anticipation under him.
He was beginning to feel warm.
{Don’t...}
//Quiet//
He pinned her hands over her head and caressed her legs, which
willfully gave up and allowed him to nestle between them. He could feel her sex
against him, almost feel its wetness. Her scent reached his nose. A
groan escaped his lips without permission.
With the other hand, he unbuttoned her pants and took them off.
//No underwear//
He took out the blade, which shone at him beautifully. He licked it. At
the sight of it, the girl frowned, but she was still too high to take
it seriously. He tightened his grip and placed another kiss on her lips.
She rubbed her hips against him. The dagger was still at sight, pinned
between their bodies. She drew her head back and bared her neck to him.
Such a delightful throat. He was beginning to feel aroused.
//Damn//
Then, without thought, he quickly took hold of the dagger and dug it in
her belly. It went in nicely, slowly. He felt he was actually taking
her. So sharp.
Horror shone on that pretty face of hers and he could see his smile
reflected on her glossy eyes. A crystalline mirror, in deed; he preferred
this reflection over any other.
He forced the knife deeper into her bowels. She was too shocked to even
scream, though she made a deep-throated sound.
Climax.
He pressed the blade further down and opened her canal. He forced the
knife from her belly to her chest, until it reached her nicely sculpted
collarbones. The blood poured freely; she was still so warm and alive.
She was struggling against him with what was left of her will, body,
and soul.
A suffocated cry made its way out of the swan’s throat, her lips
already turning blue due to the blood loss. He kissed those lips ferociously.
Some minutes and the body was already getting cold.
A grin lightened his beautiful features. He stood up and dragged the
body next to a tree. He placed it against the guarding witness in a
sitting position and opened her legs as widely as he could. Her sex exposed
to everyone; her eyes staring into nothingness; her breasts swollen
like a pair of ripe fruits ready to be taken; and her waist cut open.
Neatly done.
The bowels were already making their way out, and the left lung quickly
found its way out to meet the autumn wind. He stared at the body for a
few moments while he licked the blade clean, examining its position.
Yes, the work was finished. The artist had finished his work. He picked
everything up and tucked it into his bag.
As he watched the sun with blood-filled eyes, he took the longest trail
out of the woods; tears were running down his face.
He took his time to go home. No one would be waiting for him anyway.
To be continued....
Please R&R! I’d really like to know what you think about it, and if I
should post the next chapter. Flames accepted (if coherent). Thanks!
Author: Timelessness
Summary: Who said a killer had no feelings , no remorse , no purpose ? ; Jon decides to take his aesthete’s taste to purer things ; until some guy decided to cross his path .
Rating: R , later NC-17
Pairing(s): Don\'t want to spoil my crappy story , but it will be M/M
Feedback: Please , please , please R&R ?
Characters: Original characters .
Betas: KarmaKiller : Thanks a lot for beaing my beta for this fic !!!
Author’s notes:
1- I\'m wasted.
2- English isn\'t my native language .
3- Hope you like it. Please R&R.
Disclaimer: I\'m not making any money out of this . AFF has just established the discalimer\'s policy , and I\'m not enjoying having to write one for each one of my sroties , I\'m too lazy ...
----------------------------------
{The voice}
“Dialogue”
//Thoughts//
The night was silent. The only thing shattering the quietness of the
dark was a ragged breathing. He was having problems trying to conceal
sleep, again. Pills weren’t working for him this time; he had been awake
for almost three days now. He tossed away the sheets and fully opened
his eyes. The clock marked four in the morning.
//Shit//
While still lying on his bed, he lit a cigarette and quietly smoked it.
He stood up and started pacing around the room. It was a mess. Dirty
clothes were everywhere to be seen, along with cigarette butts all over
the place, and ashtrays to rival them. Syringes were over the night
table and empty bottles under the bed. He paced around the room for a
while, walked over the waste on the floor, went to the kitchen, and grabbed
a beer from the fridge. He had to start getting ready for school in two
hours.
//This sucks!//
He sunk in the sofa at the living room, beer at hand and lit another
cigarette. Another puff; he watched the smoke tracing funny figures in
the air and giggled at it.
//Nice//
He finished the beer in two more gulps, discarded the cigarette, and
went to bed. He later woke to the alarm clock.
//Ahhh//
The morning sun irritated him. He just stirred and groaned.
//I can’t miss school again. Ahh, sad//
He stood up and dressed himself. Black pants; black t-shirt. He grabbed
his backpack and went out. Shortly after, he found himself walking down
the street. He could smell the scent of the morning sun and the
suffocating yearning.
“Hey, Jon.”
He ignored the voice, but it kept on trying.
“What’s up?”
“Nothin’, really,” he said, almost to himself.
The way to school passed by in silence and he found himself thankful
for it. Finally, those cold corridors stared at him once again.
//Philosophy.... I guess//
He walked toward the room, knocked on the door, and opened it.
“Mr. Weller? Late again, I see.”
A sigh escaped his lips and took a seat in the back. He brought out his
notebook and started taking notes, or at least tried to. Eventually, he
just gave up and began doodling all over his paper, until he realized
the girl sitting next to him was fixated on his drawings and quick
notes.
//What the fuck is she looking at?//
Jon decided to stare back at her.
“You lost something, babe?”
The girl just shrugged and looked away.
“Mr. Weller!”
“What?” he muttered.
“Out!”
//Hummm//
He grabbed his belongings and went to the schoolyard, sat down against
a tree, and lit a cigarette. He took out a notebook and started a new
drawing, but stopped when he noticed a guy staring at him. That gaze
began disturb him....
//What the hell is wrong with them?!//
The rest of the morning went by without being noticed.
At noon he decided to go home, none of his teachers would let him in
anyway. On the way home, he realized he needed it .That was what
had been bothering him lately. Looking at the sky, he began to wonder as
heavy clouds threatened the town with rain.
//It’s early still. At least the sun hid behind the clouds. So
beautiful//
He ran the tip of his tongue over the bottom lip, lost in thoughts.
He then bent down and went through his backpack, looking for what he
needed to get the job done. His fingers found the case in silent
amusement.
{Do what is in your nature to do and you’ll know what it is to be
held in that light for which you strive. Follow the moon’s bloody path…
to Paradise.}
He frowned, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
//Don’t// He then began to think about it for a few minutes.
//Not much I can do//
He began his usual wandering on the streets, until his pray caught his
eye. He watched all of her movements. He could smell her; her scent,
her sex, her naïveté, her beauty.
Her soul.
He stalked her for a few blocks until he caught her pace.
“Hi.”
“Well, hi,” she said with a smile and a giggle. That idiotic smile
angered him. “Do I know you?” she asked flirtatiously.
He gave her the warmest of his half-smiles. He knew his intense eyes
and well-defined jaw would help him, they always did. Girls always fell
for him, although he didn’t care. He never looked at himself in the
mirror; he hated it. It made him nauseous. He felt his soul staring back at
him intently when he did, and didn’t like what he could read in his own
stare.
He had never been good for words. He had never been good at talking.
But it always worked. They never refused.
“Hey, I’ve just been kicked out of school, but I got some good stuff
here and there isn’t much to do around here....” He gave her a courteous
smile and a seductive glance.
“Yeah, sure... why not? What’s your name anyway?”
“Jonathan.”
They walked for about twenty minutes and the girl wouldn’t shut up. She
just kept babbling about everything that crossed her mind. Clothes,
cars, TV, magazines.... So vain. So fucking vain it got to his nerves.
Finally, they reached the place he had in mind. Not far away from
civilization, but not close for anyone to hear. He wanted her to be found.
He wanted his work to be seen, to be appreciated, to be seized.
//So quiet. So beautiful//
He inhaled the smell deeply. The woods comforted him at all times. He
felt at peace, even though she wouldn’t shut her mouth for even a
second.
//So annoying. But I like it here//
He smiled to himself.
They sat on a clearing. He went through the items in his backpack once
again, and he noticed she was too close to him.
“Wait a sec,” he mumbled. “Here it is.” Taking out a small pipe, he
offered it to her.
Her small frame and pretty face touched him. She couldn’t have been
older than fourteen. Her trustful eyes were looking at him. She inhaled a
puff deeply and quickly, and then another. She held her breath and
handled the pipe to him.
A few minutes passed and already she was stupefied. He was almost
immune to that crap; he had been smoking it for five years.
He took out his “tool box” from the pack: A small, flashy metal case.
She pressed herself against him. He could feel her breasts against his
chest. The girl gave him a chaste kiss.
//So warm//
He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pressed her body closer
to his, while his other arm went tentatively to open the metal case
without making noise. His long fingers archived it.
His lips never leaving hers, he deepened the kiss. Leaving her waist,
he went to her breasts; he could feel the already erect nipples through
her shirt. The left hand found what it was looking for.
The blade. The sensual dagger he so fiercely loved. He smiled at
himself and tucked it in his pocket. Now with his two hands roaming the
willing form against him, he deepened the kiss even more. The girl moaned.
He took her shirt off. Her breasts now pressed against him without
restraint. He pinched a nipple and then kissed it, running his tongue over
it afterward. His victim was now completely lost. He laid her on the
ground; the lithe body trembled with anticipation under him.
He was beginning to feel warm.
{Don’t...}
//Quiet//
He pinned her hands over her head and caressed her legs, which
willfully gave up and allowed him to nestle between them. He could feel her sex
against him, almost feel its wetness. Her scent reached his nose. A
groan escaped his lips without permission.
With the other hand, he unbuttoned her pants and took them off.
//No underwear//
He took out the blade, which shone at him beautifully. He licked it. At
the sight of it, the girl frowned, but she was still too high to take
it seriously. He tightened his grip and placed another kiss on her lips.
She rubbed her hips against him. The dagger was still at sight, pinned
between their bodies. She drew her head back and bared her neck to him.
Such a delightful throat. He was beginning to feel aroused.
//Damn//
Then, without thought, he quickly took hold of the dagger and dug it in
her belly. It went in nicely, slowly. He felt he was actually taking
her. So sharp.
Horror shone on that pretty face of hers and he could see his smile
reflected on her glossy eyes. A crystalline mirror, in deed; he preferred
this reflection over any other.
He forced the knife deeper into her bowels. She was too shocked to even
scream, though she made a deep-throated sound.
Climax.
He pressed the blade further down and opened her canal. He forced the
knife from her belly to her chest, until it reached her nicely sculpted
collarbones. The blood poured freely; she was still so warm and alive.
She was struggling against him with what was left of her will, body,
and soul.
A suffocated cry made its way out of the swan’s throat, her lips
already turning blue due to the blood loss. He kissed those lips ferociously.
Some minutes and the body was already getting cold.
A grin lightened his beautiful features. He stood up and dragged the
body next to a tree. He placed it against the guarding witness in a
sitting position and opened her legs as widely as he could. Her sex exposed
to everyone; her eyes staring into nothingness; her breasts swollen
like a pair of ripe fruits ready to be taken; and her waist cut open.
Neatly done.
The bowels were already making their way out, and the left lung quickly
found its way out to meet the autumn wind. He stared at the body for a
few moments while he licked the blade clean, examining its position.
Yes, the work was finished. The artist had finished his work. He picked
everything up and tucked it into his bag.
As he watched the sun with blood-filled eyes, he took the longest trail
out of the woods; tears were running down his face.
He took his time to go home. No one would be waiting for him anyway.
To be continued....
Please R&R! I’d really like to know what you think about it, and if I
should post the next chapter. Flames accepted (if coherent). Thanks!