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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

Text

Pit-pat

Oops I did it again yikers lmao

Trigger Warnings: mentions of blood and death. Proceed at your own risk.

Pit-pat.

“God fucking dammit, why are you still awake Mason?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Dark brown eyes blinked tiredly as he sat up, groaning in frustration and looking at the younger man standing on the other side of the room. His pale pink hoodie was looking older and older with each new day, light brown hair mussed from so much pulling. Mason stared back at the tired man with blank eyes, frozen stiff as the older glared.

“Eri-”

“Don’t call me that.”

A few moments of silence followed his remark as a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Swagger, leave him be. He’ll sleep when he feels like it.”

“Doesn’t help the fact the rest of us are dead fucking tired and this dumbass decides to just walk around like he owns the place.”

Mason still hadn’t moved from his spot.

“I know you’ve had a long day, but you know how he gets. Come on, come back to bed.”

With a last glance at the younger man standing like a statue, Swagger slowly laid back down, feeling as the other man sighed softly and also laid back down beside him. They placed their head on Swagger’s chest and traced patterns into the worn-out grey shirt the older man wore, glancing back up when he felt a hand on his back.

Pit-pat.

“Ignore him, just try and get you rest.”

“How can the others just sleep through this?” he said aloud, hoping Mason would hear him and knock it off.

Pit-pat.

Nope, he was wrong.

“Cam, tell me a story.”

“What kind of story?” the taller man asked, not surprised at the sudden statement. He felt Swagger shrug his shoulders underneath him, his chest rising and falling slowly and his heart beating calmly.

“Well let’s see. . a long time ago, there lived this knight. He was the best the land had seen, succeeding in all his lessons and challenges his teachers put before him. When the king saw this, he gifted this knight a sword. This sword was unlike all others any warrior had seen before. It was beautiful, covered in heavy iron and precious diamonds too rare to be found anywhere else.”

“One day, the king’s wife fell severely ill, so the king gave the knight a mission. He was to travel across the lands to find a sorcerer named Fitz, who had the only known cure to his beloved wife’s sickness. So the knight gathered his things and set out on the journey across mountains and oceans, in search of said sorcerer.”

Swagger closed his eyes and imagined himself to be the knight, a heavy helmet with silver and gold sitting atop his head and armour mounting his body. On his hip was the sword the king had gifted him, glinting proudly in the sun as he crossed the ocean blue. Cam stared up at the tired man with a soft smile, golden curls falling against the other’s chest as he cleared his throat and continued his story.

Pit-pat.

“After many tiresome weeks of searching, the knight found himself stranded in the woods, surrounded with nothing but the tall trees and endless brush. In a desperate attempt to save himself, he started running. Deeper and deeper into the woods he went, the only noises being that of the lush hitting against his armour, the metal clinking with his every movement, and his heavy breath echoing loudly in his helmet.”

“Just as he started giving up hope of getting out, he stumbled upon a clearing in the woods, a little shack in the middle of the thick flora. After endless weeks of searching, he had found the sorcerer. Fitz told him he would heal the queen, under one condition.”

Pit-pat.

Looking over at Mason, Swagger caught sight of the younger man in the same spot, however, he was facing the instead, frozen in place like a painting. Looking back up at the ceiling, Swagger once again closed his eyes, bandaged hand grabbing Cam’s and squeezing it gently.

“The knight had to find the heart of the strongest and most courageous man in all the lands and bring it forth to complete the potion. So off he went, searching high and low for a man who fit the description. He slaughtered hundreds with his mighty sword, silver caked in blood and no longer shining like before. In a last attempt to bring forth the heart of a strong man, he stopped and took in his reflection in the running water of a river, looking at the crimson stains covering his armour and sword.”

“It was at that moment that realization hit him. But by then, it was already too late. He had left a bloody trail behind him, soiling his honour and destroying his reputation. He had not only killed men who he met on the way, but he had also killed some of his closest companions as well, their blood the brightest on his armour. In the end, he had failed to bring forth the potion to save the queen, and she tragically passed, leaving behind a heartbroken husband and motherless children. The king soon after had him hanged for failing to complete his duties, and thus, the once strongest knight fell victim to the gallows.”

Swagger shivered under Cam, his brows scrunched as he silently took in the story. Cam stayed quiet on his chest, closing his own eyes to listen to the heartbeat of the other.

“That. . was rather dark. .”

“You told me to tell you a story.”

Swagger hummed in response as the room grew quiet, a tired yawn leaving chapped lips. Looking over to his right, above the bed, he watched at the night outside grew brighter, birds starting to chirp gently in the distance.

Had he really not slept all night?

Pit-pat.

“Looks like it’s going to be morning soon.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“You know what that means.”

Swagger sighed as Cam sat up slightly, leaning against his bent arm on the bed and staring down into the tired chocolate brown eyes he grew so fond of.

“Please don’t go. Stay, just a while longer, please?”

“You know I can’t, Swagger.”

The older man sat up in silence as he watched Cam crawl out of bed, wearing a wrinkled white shirt and faded jeans. Calling Mason over, the two men stood by the edge of the bed, watching Swagger with blank eyes. The older frowned as he laid back down, rolling on his side to watch them.

“Go to sleep, Swags. You’ll feel better later today.”

He wanted to respond to them, he really did, but a sudden wave of sleepiness overtook him, causing him to yawn and close his eyes for good, falling into a dreamless slumber.

Pit-pat.

The brown-eyed man later found himself sitting in a courtroom, looking up at the judge with a blank stare as his voice echoed around the room.

“Eric Vivian Matthews, you have been found not guilty to the murders of your 5 roommates, of which include Cameron McKay, Mason Bradford, Matt Stein, Toby Eaton, and Jay Nicholls by reason of insanity and will be committed to a psychiatric facility for life.”

As the courtroom exploded in protests and cries from the grieving family members and reporters, Swagger couldn’t help but zone out, lost in his own fairytale and wondering.

When was Cam coming back?

#swaggersouls #goodguyfitz #zuckles #horror short #i uh #don't know anymore lmao #uhhh #enjoy i guess?#my writing #the noises

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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

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whistle

look idk what to tell yall other than i was bored again and i had no idea what hippity hoppity fuck i was doing

Trigger Warnings: mentions of gore and death, as well at hyperventilations. Continue reading at your own risk.

A heavy yawn escaped chapped lips as the tired man pulled the van into an old and empty gas station, turning the car off and leaning back against his seat. On the passenger side, a man with thick glasses and a pale pink blanket pulled around his legs looked up from his phone, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Want me to go put the money?

“If you want. Hey, Mase, want to-”

When the driver turned slightly back, he saw the rest of his friends fast asleep, two young boys in the very back huddled together under a couple of blankets while the other two older one’s leaned slightly against each other. The passenger beside him chuckled quietly and slowly opened the door.

“Come on, Cam, before they wake up.”

Cam nodded and gently pushed his own door open, stepping out and stretching his long and tired limbs with a groan. He turned to look at the dark, empty forest on the other side of the highway, its lonely trees swaying with the chilly wind that blew through. He stared for a few moments, just watching the green lush sway in the wind when suddenly, he heard it.

A small whistle, tiny and far, but still audible. His brows scrunched up as he listened closely for the whistle, getting lost in his own head and jumping when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

“Fuck, Toby, don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, but you just zoned out on me. I kept calling you and you didn’t respond.”

The Kiwi mumbled out an apology as he rubbed his eyes, letting Toby take ahold of his hand and bringing it up to his lips, kissing the cracked knuckles and causing Cam to smile softly.

“Come on, the faster we get out of here, the sooner we can get home and cuddle.”

“Mm, in a moment. I’m just trying to listen for the whistle.”

Toby gave Cam a confused look as the taller man blinked.

“Whistle? What are you talking about?”

“The whistle in the woods, did you not hear it? It wasn’t that loud but it was definitely there.” when Toby shook his head, Cam bit his lower lip and let out a deep breath, shaking his head and making his dirty gold hair fall against his tired and pale face.

“You know what, forget it. I’m probably imagining things. Come on, before Mason and Jay get up asking if we’re home yet.”

The shorter man slowly nodded his head and followed Cameron inside the barely intact station, dirt and dust covering the linoleum floor and old wooden shelves. Toby wrinkled his nose at the gross smell of grease and gasoline combined. While the shorter man went to pay for the gasoline, Cam wandered the aisles of the store, looking at the rip-off brands lining the shelves. He stopped himself midway through grabbing a bag of Doritos, looking up and outside the grimy windows and into the forest.

There was that whistle again.

He didn’t know why, but he started to shake. His whole body trembled as a lump formed in his throat, preventing him from swallowing, the bad of chips falling from his grasp as pretty blue eyes blew wide in fear.

He just wanted to get the absolute fuck out of there.

Not even bothering to pick up the chips, he went back up to the counter, grabbing Toby’s hand and practically pulling him out of the humid store and to the cold outside.

“Whoa, whoa, are you okay? Cam, you’re shaking, what the hell happened? Cam? Cameron!”

Something deep inside him told him to run, to get the hell away from the place as fast as possible and never look back. His whole body shook violently, breathing uncontrolled as he leaned against the car and began hyperventilating.

Something was coming.

Nothing could stop his shaking, not even when Toby wrapped his arms around his lithe waist and pulled him close, not when he kissed his cheeks and neck, things that would usually help him calm down when he panicked. Nothing could stop the ever-growing fear rising in his stomach, up to his throat, and down his back. Cam didn’t even notice the tears that slipped down his face and wet the collar of his jacket, seeping into cotton as he closed his eyes.

The whistle came again.

Closer.

Louder.

Like a trumpet blown to signify the end of times, it was haunting, ripping out all the fears Cameron had hidden deep inside his mind to protect himself from the world.

Before he even knew what was happening, Toby was pulling him into the car, the gas having been loaded long ago by I know half awake Matt, who looked at Cam with wide, worried eyes. Beside him, Eric stared intently at him, worry gnawing at him from the way Cameron shook and cried.

“Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here. This place is weirding me out.”

In a split second, Toby was jumping into the driver’s seat and turning the car on, pulling away from whatever portal to hell they had stopped at. Cameron still shook in his seat, eyes blown wide as he stared out the window of the car and into the woods that seemed to reach for him outside the window.

As they drove further and further away, the Kiwi seemed to grow more and more tired, shaking from time to time and quietly sniffling. Toby had one hand on the wheel, the other rubbing small circles into the taller man’s thigh. Everything seemed to grow calmer, the still night outside being replaced by the gentle rain that fell against the car and pavement below.

Just as his eyes grew tired and his head nodded from side to side, Cameron caught sight of a man standing in the middle of the road, features hidden under a mess of long frizzy brown hair and a mud-covered trilby sitting atop his head. His suit was complete rags, dirt, and water covering the once pristine coat and shirt he wore.

He couldn’t help the blood-curdling scream that escaped him as the man slowly turned its head up to look straight at the moving car, mouth twisting into a wide smile that bore yellow teeth, through which that haunting sound came from.

The next day, off the side of a shattered bridge, they found a rented van turned upside down, the river water overflowing the inside and moving through shattered windows. The bodies of five young men were all found scattered through the shallow water, heads having been busted open from the jagged rocks hidden underneath the rapidly moving water, taking with it the spilled blood of the males. All but one were found near the tragic scene, the last man having been found strung high above the ground on a sturdy branch, brown rope digging into the pale and broken neck of the man later identified as Cameron McKay.

Under his hanging corpse laid a dirty and insect-eaten trilby hat, covered in droplets of blood dripping from the corpse above it and withholding a small piece of parchment paper containing the name in cursive, clearly written in the blood of the young man.

The Whistler.

#goodguyfitz #tobyonthetele #inotorious #swaggersouls #mccreamy #zuckles #gbg #misfits #horror short #look #idk where i was going with this #i still dont know #but im super bored #and i had to get it off my chest #so suck it up lmao #btw #thank you all for all the love in the previous one!!#yall are way too sweet #the noises

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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

Text

Drip

I was bored so I wrote something lmao.

I’ve been trying to experiment with horror lately and just couldn’t get it right, so when this came to mind, I knew I just had to write it. ANyways hope you enjoy :D

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death and blood. Proceed at your own risk

Mason sighed.

The dripping was getting annoying at this point.

“Jay, what the fuck is that noise?”

Silence. The man was probably asleep.

Mason groaned softly and threw the covers off himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and letting his feet touch the cold tiles below. He shivered at the feeling, pushing his tired self off the bed and plodding over quietly to the other side of the hotel room, where Jay slept.

Leaning over, he watched as the Kiwi slept peacefully, face buried deep into the cotton blankets pulled over his mouth.

He looked so cute when he slept. Mason smiled and couldn’t help leaning down to kiss the others cheek sweetly.

His pale skin was strangely cold.

Mason brushed it off as the freezing conditioning in the room as he walked away towards the luxurious bathroom that came with the room.

Pale blue tiles covered the shower, shining softly in the moonlight that washed in from the open blinds. The porcelain white bathtub glinted in the pale light, a tempting invitation to the sleep-deprived Australian. He brushed his hand over his eyes as he examined the tub closely, watching for any sign of dripping water coming from it.

Drip.

When nothing moved, he turned around to face the polished sink, leaning down close and gripping the edge of the counter. With steady eyes, he watched the gold faucet for any movements, and with nothing came, he let out a rather loud groan of frustration. Remembering that the sleeping man was less than 7 feet away, he slapped a hand over his mouth and stood upright, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the spotless mirror.

His hair was a mess, standing up in various places despite the gel still in it from earlier in the night. His clothes were wrinkled, and when he looked closer, saw they were covered in splotches of some type of liquid, which he couldn’t distinguish in the dark.

Mason shrugged it off as beer stains from the party he and Jay had gone to and simply walked back to the room, the pitter patter of his bare feet echoing in the quiet room. From the other side, Jay had not moved a muscle, still rolled on his right side with the white covers pulled up. The Australian smiled and was nearly tempted to sneak into the bed until he stopped in place.

Drip.

There was that damned dripping again. The Australian looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the noise. Running back to the bathroom, he threw open the door, desperately searching for the sound.

“Jay, come on ya cunt, wake up! Are you not listening to this bullshit? Jay!”

The Australian marched back to the room, glaring at the sleeping man’s back.

Drip.

“Jay, I swear to god if you don’t get your ass up right now, I’m going to punch you.”

Still no movement.

Cursing under his breath, he walked over to Jay and started shaking him aggressively, trying to wake him up from whatever deep sleep he was in. Glancing back down at the sheet, he noticed the same weird stains he had on his shirt and pants were on the covers, making him shake his head and think it was just beer the idiot had spilled. When Jay still didn’t open his eyes, Mason sighed exaggeratingly and walked back to his side of the room, hand feeling around the dark wall for the light switch.

“This isn’t funny, you cunt. Wake up!”

Drip.

A hand made its way up to his own hair, gripping it as hard as he could as he closed his eyes tight. The dripping seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing loudly inside his brain as he hit his own head.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! Stop it!!”

Drip.

With a yell of frustration, he flipped on the light to the room, cold, yellow brightness illuminating the place. He threw a glance over at Jay’s side, where the man was now on his back, his arm hanging off the bed limply.

It was at the moment that he noticed the way Jay’s chest wasn’t moving up and down.

Drip.

The weird stains he thought were beer sunk deeper into the pure white covers Jay slept in, soaking into the duvet and the mattress below.

Drip.

Looking down at his clothes, the same dark red seeped into his own clothes, dying the pale skin underneath a blotchy red.

Drip.

Staggering over to Jay, he let out a horrified scream that resonated through the night, awakening the neighboring people and the unforgiving night outside those foggy windows.

Slipping down the side of the bed was blood, falling like dew from a flower on an early morning to a puddle underneath, the haunting sound echoing quietly through the night. A bloody knife rested on the bedside table besides Mason’s bed, the sharp blade glinting in the light.

Drip.

#zuckles #mccreamy #gbg #misfits #gay baby gang #horror short #idk where i was going with this #either way #i really like how this turned out #trigger warnings #the noises

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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

Note

Hello!!! Just wanted to know how you’re doing these days ❤️❤️

Hello !! I wasn't doing so well these past few days, heck, I wasn't doing real good earlier. But I was able to get something off my chest and I feel 100% better uwu

Currently sitting on my kitchen floor at 12 am eating strawberry yogurt cause no one can stop me lmao

Thanks for asking love !! I hope you're doing well ❤❤

#heyyglasses #i was also watching sherlock holmes earlier #the one with RDJ in it #and i love it lmao

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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

Text

Someone mentioned badguyfitz doing the 'had to do it to em' pose and i think this super shitty image speaks for itself lmao

badguyfitz belongs to the amazing @corkcollector

#badguyfitz #fitz #misfits #gbg #god this came out horrible #it still makes me giggle tho lmao

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ashes-2-cashes · 6 years ago

Photo

Chapter 4 of Glitter and Gold is out now!

I've been working on this chapter for a while now and the very last 2 scenes were honestly the most difficult to write because I just couldn't get the feeling of right.

After a few frustrating attempts, I settled down for those two and honestly, I think they're the best visuals I've written lmao

anyways, thank you for all the kind messages, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Pale pink lips blew a puff of smoke from them, tentative blue eyes watching as the smoke swirled up and dissipated into the humid, spring air that blew in from the window. The sound of muffled footsteps on rug caught his attention as he watched from his peripheral vision. The steps stopped before the door, and soon, came a knock from the other side. He could see the shadow of the person through the cloudy window looking into the room, tall and patient as he rolled his eyes and took another puff, not uttering a sound in hopes they would go away.

“Jonathan, I know you’re in there. Can I come in?”

The detective blew the addicting nicotine from his lips slowly, sighing quietly and crossing his leg over the other. He still refused to answer his mentee, desite a feeling deep in his gut telling him to say something. He shrugged it off as paranoia and heard as Tyler sighed and leaned against the door, the old wood creaking with his weight.

“Acting like bad news and smoking isn’t going to help this case. Weren’t you the same person who told me that sometimes, we can’t save everyone, even when we try our hardest?”

“Just cut out Tyler. I’m sure Montoya needs you doing other things around the station.”

Before he knew it, Tyler threw open the door to the office and stomped his way inside, a scowl on his face as he glared at Jonathan and crossed his arms. The older man glared back, but showed no signs of moving from his place. The room was suddenly filled with a heavy silence that settled onto their shoulders as the younger tightened his hands into fists.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? One second, you’re all over this case, the next, you step out and chase away the only two people with our best lead. Is there something you’re not telling us about? What did-”

“Ice it, Tyler. The only thing you should know is the reason I am doing this is to keep you and everyone else involved safe. This thing, person, god knows what at this point, is far more dangerous than any of the cases I’ve worked on before.” Jonathan took a last puff of his cigar before he put it out on the ashtray beside him, the last of the nicotine making swirls around his head before being blown away by the air coming in from the window.

“Every single case that you have taken that got you to where you are today were dangerous. You hunted and took down a drug lord with a single revolver when you were 20. You took down a knife-wielding, intoxicated murderer with your bare fucking hands when you were 21. So don’t give me that bullshit that this case is too dangerous.”

“Yeah but back then I wasn’t having visions of my dead mother!”

Tyler immediately went quiet, big blue eyes looking at his mentor with regret before he looked away and rubbed his arm. Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, mouth dry from all the cigars he had been smoking. He caught sight of his bloodied clothes bundled up and kicked underneath his table in an attempt to forget the events that had happened not even a day ago.

“Look I. . Just. . We’ll be at the hospital downtown if you need us.” whispered Tyler, so soft and vulnerable, that it nearly convinced Jonathan to accompany him. Almost. He knew Tyler was pulling the guilty card, and he’d be damned if feel for it so easily. He simply watched as Tyler sighed and walked to the door, standing at the doorway before glancing back over his shoulder at the detective.

“We need to catch this fucker, Jon. Not just for the people, or for your reputation, but for the city too.”

“Whatever you say, detective .” he mocked with venom in his tone as Tyler simply shook his head and left, closing the door behind himself. As soon as the footsteps faded away, the detective sighed and stood, walking over to his desk and pulling open a cabinet underneath. He stared at the typewriter stored inside and thought for a few seconds, before pulling it out and setting it down on his table. He loaded some paper into the old machine and sat down, staring at the buttons for a while before he started typing away.

When he thought he had enough for the time being, he stood up and grabbed the papers, clipping them together and placing them underneath a pile of folders. He grabbed his black jacket off the couch and threw it on, going towards the door and placing his hand on the light switch. Before stepping out, he glanced back at his empty office and took in the silence, dim light pouring in from a slight gap in the blinds.

He turned the lights off and closed the door behind himself, his shoes padding across the navy blue carpet underneath him.

“Sir, you’re going to have to talk to someone, you can’t just refuse information to detectives.”

“I ain’t talkin’ to no bull, sharper or not.” spat the injured man, crossing his arms and looking away almost childishly. Scott sighed as he rubbed his temple with one hand, the other holding onto Marcel’s leg gently.

“You cannot just refuse to help an officer, Marcey. It’s against the law.”

“Don’t call me Marcey.”

Cartoonz pinched his nose as he sighed with frustration, leaning back against his chair with his legs crossed. Ryan bit his lower lip as he fidgeted in the hard seat, moving a pen between his fingers almost impatiently. Tyler’s fists were closed tight, biting his tongue in order to hold back a nasty comment towards Marcel childishness. Before anyone could say anything, a nurse knocked on the door before peeking her head in, light brown hair tied back into a small bun in the back of her head.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but Detective Smith just arrived.”

Pushing open the door, she held it open for Jonathan who walked in and gave her a grateful, handsome smile. She giggled, before excusing herself from the room. Jonathan smoothed his shirt out before walking towards the bed, sparing not so much as a glance at the other three.

“I was told you refused to walk to my men about the events that happened.”

“Indeed I did, Detective. I have my reason.” Marcel said with confidence, sitting up slightly taller despite the pain in his ribs and chest. Jonathan nodded, before taking a seat beside the bed and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Well, now you have me here, so will you start talking or risk getting fined for obstruction of justice, Mr. Cunningham?”

“I’m ready to talk, Mr. Smith .”

“Then let’s start with the events that led up to the shooting. Where were you earli-” before he could finish, Marcel held up his hand to stop him, looking around at the other 2 detectives and Tyler with an ambivalent look. Seeming to understand, Jonathan turned to Tyler and jerked his chin towards the door, which had the younger man nearly fuming.

“What? No, we’re not leaving. We spent so much time trying to get this bum to talk, and once he actually agrees, you want to kick us out? I’m staying right here.”

“Tyler, this is an order. Get out before you’re forced to.” Jonathan hissed with an impatient look in his eyes, which had Tyler glaring back and shaking his head. Before he could stand, Ryan placed a gentle hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, quickly retracting it once Jonathan jumped away from it.

“To be quite honest, I agree with Tyler. Not only that, you seem to forget that we’re also helping solve this case, and anything this man tells you might be important to what we already have.”

With a sigh, Jonathan turned towards the injured man and his partner, who looked at him with a lack of agreement but said no more. Marcel leaned back into the pillows that were propping him up and sighed, before looking at Jonathan and licking his chapped lips slightly.

“You heard them, didn’t you?” he asked quietly, caramel skin glowing a pretty shade form the light that came in. the detective looked at him with confusion clear on his features.

“Hear what?”

“The windchimes. You heard them too, right? That’s why you came into the shop. You heard the windchimes.”

“Jon, what’s he talking about?” Luke asked as he say the younger man go stiff in his seat, blue eyes blown wide as a pale hand gripped the arm rest. He blinked, trying to force himself to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was a weak ‘what?’.

“Detective, you have done something foolish. This whole case will put all and every single one of you in danger, as well as your family. You need to drop this as soon as you can.”

“What the hell is he saying? We aren’t just going to drop this case, we’ve come way too far into investigating to simply leave it.” Tyler argued as the other two mumbled in agreement. Jonathan turned to look at them, before turning his attention back to the injured man. Scott looked equally confused on the other side of the bed, his hold on Marcel’s knee slightly tighter.

“How. . how did you-”

“No one just goes into that shop. Hell, know one even knows that shop exists . You coming in out of nowhere was no coincidence, unless. .”

“Unless what? Answer me!” the panic in his voice was evident as Jonathan tried to swallow back his nerves.

“Unless you understand alchemy.”

An unnerving silence settled over the hospital room as Jonathan felt the air had been punched out of him. Not a single person dared to move, not even breathe at that point. Soon, Scott broke the silence by pushing back his chair and getting up, walking to the other side of the room and looking out a window. Ryan gave his partner a look that had the older man shaking his head in confusion. Tyler stared at the dark skinned male with wide eyes, mouth feeling like cotton as a chill went up his spine.

"There's no way-"

“You told me you weren’t practicing it anymore, Marcel.”

All eyes were now on Scott as he had his arms crossed over his chest, slowly turning to glare at Marcel, who hung his head in shame.

“I know, but I had to. It was the only way I could get someone to listen.”

“Wait, what do you mean practice? Alchemy is a form of science, you can’t just simply ‘practice’ it without the necessary materials, none of which were found in both the store and your home.”

Marcel turned towards a confused Ryan, taking a deep breath in and sitting up all the way.

“Do you mind passing me the piece of chalk in my jacket?” addled by the bizarre request, the detective hesitantly nodded and got up, heading to the bloodied jacket stuffed in a plastic bag. Pulling a small piece of white chalk out of his pocket, he walked back over to the bed and handed it to the younger man.

“Thanks.”

Hissing in pain, he slipped his feet off the mattress, much to the protests of the rest. When he felt Scott and Ryan try to pull him back, he moved their hands off with a look in his eyes and slowly stood up, whimpering slightly at the white hot pain that shot up his chest and burned his lungs. Before anyone could tell what he was doing, he shuffled over to the nearest wall and started drawing something that had everyone but Scott’s attention.

“I don’t think this is really the time or place to be drawing-”

“Just watch.” Scott interrupted Luke, eyes glued on the wall with a disappointed impression in them. Before they could say anymore, the caramel skinned man stepped back slightly, letting the piece of chalk fall to the ground as he inspected the picture before him.

He had drawn what appeared to be a large circle, a smaller circle inside and with a bigger triangle overlapping them. Three smaller triangles crossed both the smaller circle and the triangle, their sharp edges barely touching the outer circle that seemed to bind everything together. Jonathan stood from his spot and came to a stop beside Marcel, looking at the piece with fascination as Marcel simply kept looking forward.

“What is this exactly?”

“It’s called a transmutation circle. It’s what helps begin an alchemical transmutation, such as turning lead into gold, or wood into a carving. This is one of the most basic circles that anyone who knows alchemy could use.”

“So you’re saying that, with this circle, alchemy is in fact possible without the need for science?”

Marcel turned towards Ryan, who was trying to sketch the picture in front of him into the leather bound notebook in his hand. He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Not exactly. . In order to understand alchemy, you need to understand the basic rule of equivalent exchange, which is where something can only be changed if another thing equally as valuable is offered. Uh. . to sum it up quicker, it’s understanding what makes up the object, the deconstruction of said object, and the reconstruction of it into a different thing.”

“Jesus Christ, how the hell do you exactly know all of this?” Tyler mumbled from his place, head swirling with the information Marcel spewed out like nothing. The shorter man shrugged and rubbed his arm, before clearing his throat and facing the circle once more.

“Step back a bit, please.”

Jonathan immediately moved backwards and watched as Marcel got into a stance, before suddenly clapping his hands together in a form that resembled that of someone praying. What sounded like the echo is metal scraping something filled their ears, before a bright flash of electricity burst from the circle on the wall, forcing them to cover their eyes.

When the blast of wind and electricity faded, their eyes slowly opened to reveal Marcel holding a stone carving of a dragon in his hand. The wall was missing a chunk of it, making an indent that went in, in a weird pattern. The dark skinned man turned around to face the others as he held the dragon towards the detective, who hesitantly took it and examined it.

“This. . how. .”

“I deconstructed the wall and reconstructed it into this, while giving back what it needed to form. I’m pretty sure the alchemy you were taught does nothing like this, huh?”

“No. . not at all. .” mumbled Ryan, coming up next to Jonathan and looking at the small dragon with wide, curious hazel eyes.

Marcel smiled.

Suddenly started coughing hard, hunching over and gripping the front of his white shirt. Jonathan and Ryan immediately were on his side, trying to get him back into bed while Scott rushed out, his voice resonating the empty halls as he yelled for a doctor.

The dragon laid forgotten on the floor, it's head broken off from the impact.

“Y-You. . need to. . dr-drop it. .”

“Marcel, stop talking. You’re coughing up blood already, this isn’t any good for you!”

Marcel wheezed for air as he clapped his hands together once more, falling against the wall and returning it to its original state.

Two bloody handprints stained the white porcelain wall.

Both doctors and nurses rushed in, pushing him back into the bed as the detectives stepped back. Before Jonathan could go anywhere, Marcel grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and pulled him close, whispering through bloody lips,

“Trust no one.”

“Sir, his lung has collapsed and he’s going into shock, we need you to leave right now.”

Jonathan slowly nodded as Marcel let him go, eyes fluttering shut as he kept heaving for air. As the detective left the room, he closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, frozen for a moment as Marcel’s last words raced through his mind.

Trust no one.

Luke, Ryan, Tyler and Jonathan stayed with Scott, who looked like he was ready to have a mental breakdown any second. After what seemed like an eternity, a doctor opened the door and came out, which had Scotty jumping on his feet and rushing towards the man. The detectives stayed behind and, although they couldn’t hear the quiet conversation, knew what the news was by the way Scott’s shoulders fell defeatingly.

Jonathan slowly stood and walked over to the younger man, throwing his arm around his shoulder and attempting to lead him back to where they were sitting. Before he could even take five steps, Scott was pushing Jonathan away and glaring at him, backing up from the group of detectives.

Trust no one.

“Don’t fucking touch me. . It’s your fault this all happened and now. . now he’s gone. .”

“Scott-”

“Shut up! Just go away, leave!”

Before any of them could say anything, Scotty was walking back into the room, leaving them all in a silence that was deafening. Luke slowly stood from where he was and shook his head, walking towards Jonathan and placing his hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try. Come on, we have more research to look for now.”

The blue eyed man simply nodded, still staring at the porcelain white door with a look of regret. Luke left him alone as he walked back to Ryan, who threw Jonathan a sympathetic look before walking into an elevator and leaving. Tyler stood by the chairs and waited for his ment- no, his friend to walk back, not saying a word as they both took the elevator down to the first level and walked out, leaving behind their only lead in the case.

Trust no one .

Three weeks later, Marcel’s warning came true.

He remembered that day so fucking clearly, so painfully. He remembered it as clear as crystal, the happiness he felt just days before at his wedding ripped away and torn to shreds with a few simple words. The blood he tasted in his mouth as he bit his lower lip, trying not to cry before the officer at his door, in front of the rest of his friends. The repulsive metallic taste that was left in his mouth, his swollen lip adding to the disheveled look he wore all day. Getting home and not being able to mourn, not being able to cry for him, not at his funeral, where he drowned in the sea of black rippling around him.

(distant - n u a g e s)

He remembered finally being alone in that church, black tie loosened and hair sticking up in various places as he made his way up the aisle, alone. He remembered reaching the shiny coffin, deserted in the church with marble statues of saints to accompany his abandoned soul. He remembered suddenly falling to his knees and letting out the most woeful cry, clutching the front of his suit as he cursed the heavens above, the hells below, cursing himself as he sobbed and screamed for the person who’d never come back.

He remembers the day Tyler died.

Jonathan found himself sitting in a large velvet wing chair in the little lounging area beside the chapel, chin resting on his pale hand and his suit wrinkled. His ankles were crossed as he was faced away from everybody else, the dim blue afternoon light washing over him and the carpet covered floor below him. He drowned out the quiet chatter in the background from mourning family members and friends, his mind wandering far, far away, to a place where only the statues of saints and the paintings of Jesus accompanied him in such a lonely little room. He could feel the cup of tea resting on his lap get colder by the minute, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. Despite that, he kept gazing out the window, despondent blue eyes watching the waves hit the sandy beach, pulling the grains resting on the shore back to the depths of the endless ocean, where they’d rest until the end of times.

He could hear someone walking towards him, coming to a stop beside him and letting their hand rest at the top of the tall chair. Jonathan refused to move, watching from the corner of his eye as the person finally came into view and sat across from him.

Sitting in the chair in front of him was Tyler, his light brown hair combed back in a way that showed all his young and handsome features. He was dressed in the suit he wore to Jonathan and Evan’s wedding, his brown tie just a bit crooked like he always wore it. The sleeves of his grey blazer were rolled up, the blazer just slightly unbuttoned to reveal the cream coloured dress shirt underneath. Camel coloured chinos were custom tailored to rise just slightly above his ankle, leaving his brown leather shoes to shine in the dull light. The younger man crossed his right leg over the left one, resting his ankle on his knee and leaning lazily back against the chair.

For a second, the detective felt like falling apart all over again, letting the dam in his eyes break and leave a cascade of tears falling down his face. But instead, he watched Tyler from his position, not daring to move in case the vision of his best friend went away. The younger looked at him with an unreadable expression, baby blue eyes blinking slowly, lashing fluttering with every close of his eyes.

“Are you going to continue?”

Tyler’s voice sounded far away yet somehow, close, echoing for eternity inside his head.

“I don’t know. .” the detective whispered, afraid that the rest would think him crazy for talking to himself. Tyler smiled knowingly and huffed a soft chuckle.

“Liar.”

“What?”

“Liar. You’ve lied to me before and now, here you are, lying to a ghost. You do know what you’re going to do, Jonathan, you just haven’t come to terms with it because you’re afraid of letting go.”

Jonathan nearly threw his head back and laughed, but settled down for a quiet chuckle instead, blue eyes going as dark as the ocean outside. Tyler, however, simply kept on smiling, linking his hands together and playing with the ring on left hand. He looked so real, so alive, Jonathan nearly reached over to run his fingers gently over the pale cheek.

“Tyler, I’m-”

“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing could’ve stopped the events of that day, no matter how much you wish and pray.”

“I’m just. . I’m so sorry for dragging you into this investigation. If I had just listened. .”

“If you would’ve listened to everyone else, you wouldn’t have come this far. You did good Jon, you really did.” Tyler whispered to him, his rich, gentle voice carried by the wind and blown like the petals in a white dandelion. Jonathan shifted and placed his tea down, before resting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face in his hands.

“Could you do me one last favour?” the younger asked, so small and soft, it made a lump form in Jonathan’s throat, making him unable to speak. He simply nodded, pressing the palms of his hands harder into his eyes to stop the tears from slipping out.

“Take care of Kelly for me, will ya? She’s a strong, independent woman, but right now, I know she needs all the support she can. She’s tearing, and I don’t want to see her breaking apart completely, dead or alive.”

“I-I promise. . we’ll take good care of her. .”

“Thank you.”

Looking up, he saw the image of Tyler slowly start disappearing, his outline becoming fainter and fainter by each passing second. Jonathan bit his lower lip, before letting a sort of whisper-cry escape his throat.

“W-Wait, Tyler. . ! I. . I need to know. What exactly did you find that night. . ?”

The dead look in those baby blue eyes sent a chill down his spine.

“The end of all.”

(Spiritual Fog - Sloati)

“That was a close call, Father. Are you absolutely positive you want to continue letting these filthy humans investigate us?”

“Do you dare doubt your father, child of mine?”

The strong, deep, rich voice of a man boomed through the empty room, silencing the person in a second and leaving them under an intensive gaze that could kill anyone, human or not.

“No, Father. I do not doubt the almighty strength and wisdom you bear.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you go introduce yourself to your new sibling?”

Slowly, the powerful man stood from his throne of stone and metal, walking down a small set of stairs and to the much shorter figure waiting for him with their hands behind their back. With a heavy hand on their shoulder, their Father led them further back into the tunnels, where a tall man struggled to get up, the muscles on his arms and back rippling underneath his shirt.

“Meet your new brother.”

Brown eyes watched as his new brother slowly turned to look at both him and his Father, head tilted slightly and watching them curiously.

Baby blue eyes blinked in the dark.

#glitter and gold #BBS #banana bus squad #h2o delirious #I AM WILDCAT #Cartoonz #ohmwrecker #fourzer0seven #basicallyidowrk #alchemy #im so sorry #but at the same time #im really not

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