| Subject: .:. I'll be there as soon as I can but I'm busy missing broken pieces of the life I had before.:. |
Author:
Zeth
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Date Posted: 13:28:37 03/19/05 Sat
In reply to:
Briallan
's message, "frozen" on 07:43:29 03/19/05 Sat
.:. The lamp-lights lining the street sent out the dazzling array of orange painted light below them. But that fact was forgotten. He, unlike Bri, forgot the stars existed above them in the heaven he didn’t believe in. Alone on the fire escape with his ravage emotions, he knew the silence wouldn’t last long. And thus he prepared himself for the following parade that would escort him from this point on. But for a moment, the window was shut and he struck the match that would light the cigarette that wouldn’t lead to the death he wanted to badly.
It lay between his lips before Max burst out the thrown open window. They were alone and he said nothing to explain to her. But she needed to know. Needed her hear the agonizing pain that raped his inner thoughts. She said his name and he wanted to say hers but didn’t. Why should he? Did she deserve it?
He bit his tongue and halted the words that were just beginning to fall when the window opened again. Briallan, right? No- wrong. Sabra. That face contorted by the deeds of her thoughtlessly existing soul. She was a waste of oxygen and he about told her. But the dagger was drawn out, her words uttered and her stance taken as that blade sliced the air that surrounded them comfortably. He could hear the screams as the dagger fell, aimed for his belly. And he did what to stop it? Nothing. He wanted it. More than he wanted death the first time around. “Please- end it.” That’s all he could say. But then his figure was raped with a new feeling- a familiars one. Briallan.
His mind screamed out warnings to him, but he could not act on them fast enough. The dagger was unstoppable at this point and here came Bri to take the pain away. No- no. Bri, don’t. He couldn’t utter what his mind was screaming. He didn’t want to dance this stupid dance anymore. He didn’t see the point in living. She had the children to care for- she had to live. He on the other hand? He’d be better dead…or that was the popular opinion anyway.
Max was thrown against the wall and Sabra promised that Max would see her end this night too. They all would. But did the fem honestly think she could take them all out? The thought found a chuckle in the back of his mind and he let it issue out into the world around them. But Bri was already before him and the blade was lodged into Bri’s gut, which immediately expelled their liquid life. He caught, with one quick glance, the surprise on Sabra face. But she’d cover up the mistake soon enough.
For a moment, there was silence. Everything was gone from hearing except his heavy breathing and the un-existent thud of his heart. The silence was defeated by the lyrics pouring out from the blood stained female. He could smell her blood now as it replaced that of the cigarette between his fingers. No harm could come from the murderess now and he’d waste no time with the gift bestowed upon him. Come here, Sabra. Someone wants to play. His cigarette was risen and flicked in her direction, tangling either in her hair or rolling its ashen form down her front.
His hand was caught in Briallan’s, their fingers perfectly fitting together. She’d sway and he’d grab her like they’d always done before. But he wouldn’t attend her long before seeking his revenge on the form of Sabra. She deserved to die. Someone would- and it doubtfully would be Briallan. Zeth might take his own life before this night was over. But for now- he’d catch Briallan.
“Max- leave” It was the only solid tones offered as he freed her from the wall. “Leave now” he warned, finding her eyes with his own. This was no time to be making apologies that he didn’t deserve. “Go with Deangelo.” And fuck yourselves while you’re at it. The temptation to add the last bit was strong, but he bit it back.
It was obvious someone wanted Zeth dead but he didn’t know whom. Actually- he didn’t know whom DIDN’T want him dead. It might be easier to solve the mystery that way. When a man wanted himself dead- there’s no hope left.
I’ll be there as soon as I can but I’m busy missing many broken pieces of the life I had before. I’ll be there soon as I can, but I’m missing many broken pieces of the life I had before. Before. Before.:.
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