griseusprofundum - Tumblr blog

[griseusprofundum]

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       His pace was quick--           not too quick, or anything of the like;         almost a jog, but not quite. He wasn't going to give the other.. him            s a t i s f a c t i o n         of seeing him run or even j o g back to the house.          No;              N o n e.                                      Excited, sure,                                    but he was still cautious,           was he up to something?                                                Or perhaps did he finally come to reason.                         It wasn't too long after that he came up to the small house,               staring for a few moments,                  before making his way to the door.                                              Opening it,                 stepping in,                                 he looked around.                                                             For G r e y.

  Grey sets the phone down after the last reply, trying to even his breaths. God this always made him feel so sick to his stomach, swallowing thickly and grabbing the knife with a sigh. Last kill. This was a promise to himself, this would be it. Besides, better to cut it down, before the trouble grew too unbearable. Sure people would be angry- but his reasoning was completely alright in his mind.

Shaking his head there’s a quiet sigh, moving to walk up the stairs, leaving his own phone downstairs. This was going to be difficult- But by god it better work.

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{ txt; } they? { txt; } ... { txt; } i'll be there soon.

  [Text to; Unknown number]: Well do whatever you wanted to do first.

[Text]: Actually nevermind hurry up I think they're waking up.

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{ txt to; him } you always tell me to when im about to have fun. { txt; } better be worth it. { txt; } on my way.

[Text to; Unknown number]: come back to the place. i found something i thought you might like. 

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       He had gotten a hold of the laptop the other was always on, messaging her, of all goddamn people. The other had left it signed in, giving Grey the oppertunity to read e v e r y t h i n g.

                       So there was a reason he was being so fucking protective.        He was t h e r e,                                  he could have gotten rid of her permanently.              He took the kitchen knife,               examining it.                    This time it would be o v e r.                           For good.

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                  A bullet, huh?                    Seems more t a m e than what he does.          "..Pleasure to meet you."                                                  Not really.

      The name was.. familiar, but he couldn't remember where he heard it before.                 Doesn't m a t t e r right now, does it?            "Always have to be careful for..                                    psychos,                                                    h u h?"       You're one to fucking talk, Grey.

"Simon," he responded, dipping his head in greeting, and mimicked the other, shoving his hands into his pockets. Why did this ‘Grey’ seem familiar? Did he know him from somewhere?

"And it’s alright, I guess… I mean, last time I got help from someone it ended up being a bullet in the shoulder, so I get it."

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  "Bullshit!"

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         C r a z y?                          Just crazy?

                                   "Oh..                    I'm s o hurt."

                No, I’m not fucking sure. I’m not s u r e about anything.

"You’re crazy."

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             Are you sure you want to know his p o i n t?          "My point...                                  is that we could have some FUN."

                                       He's taking a step forward,                  c l o s e r  to him.                             He's right in front of him,             r i g h t  t h e r e.                                       Staring down at him,   with that  stupid grin.

                                                                            "We could have                                                                            so                                                                          much                                                                         f u n."

  Stop.

Fucking stop. His teeth are absently  g r i n d i n g  into his tongue.

Most of it was his own sweet, hot vermilion, rolling in beads down his arm. Cutting, piercing, r i p p i n g.

    How beautiful would it be to carve into someone else what he feels.        H̴̨ì̴͞s̢ ̷͟ańge̛r̕͡.                      Like art into someone else’s flesh.             Less denial now.

"… What… what’s your point…?"

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             … God damnit.

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              "But w h y?"

                               "Isn't it t r u e?"

              Admit it...                                     In a sick,                     twisted sense,                                             i t  i s.           "Come on,                   let everything out, you love the blood.                                The scarlet c o l o r,                               the smell,                                               the f e e l."

  Species of a different kind. HUNTING! A bullet kills a deer, and it’s sport.                         But a human digs a blade into the heart of another for fun,                         and it’s murder.

But you can’t afford to think like that, Simon.    Y͠ou͡ c̀a̵n’͘t aff͟o̷r̶d ͟to҉ th̡in̵k lik͘e̴ tha̸t.́                           Yo̕ụ̠̠̻̟̺̣ ̪c͓̰͕̮͕̭ͅa͙ṇ̰͈̰’̖͈͚̳͟t͟ ͉̞̜̝͡a̺̹̥̩̣͍f̮f͍̠͎̹̫o͈r̟d҉̤͚̜̝̻̙ ̀t̵̪͓͕̤̻̜o̜̟̥͍̫̻ ̀t͇̳̦̲̜͍͘ͅh̪͎̗̥͖͙iṇ̙̠̠k̖̟̦̮̣̖̯ ̗͕͈͎̖̟l̦͎̠̙̱͙͕ik̢e͙̜̺ ̹̮̮͍ͅt̙̬͚͈h͏a̻͔̻͘t̻̦̩̠.̭͎̦̣̬͡.

"… Stop… Saying that…"

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  Don’t make him run your ass over, Grey.

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                      "Horrible p e r s o n?"          He shakes his head,                       his violence filled head.

                                          "Isn't it just like       h u n t i n g, though?                                    Hunting, you k i l l, just animals.            What's so d i f f e r e n t?                                                        We find it fun to KILL humans.         Just like how they love to k i l l animals."

  S w a l l ow. He feels… breathless. Weightless.                Can you not tempt him.     Idle, v̫̻͔̯̦i̪o̠l̷͚͇͉̫e͙̠͓ṋ̵̱̥̺̻t̨̩̠  words float in his head like butterflies.

                   Words want to solidify into actions.

                                       But… he has to behave here.

"… I’m not… actively trying to be a horrible person."

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              "The room?"

                                         "..Or my c l o t h e s?"

  "Get out.”

Not like he’s fucking blushing or anything.

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        "Two?                    Only t w o?"                                   He raises a brow, watching the other curiously.           You k n o w...                     he could HELP you with that,      h e l p you realize how fucking                                                          FUN                           killing can t r u l y be.

                                                                   "..do you want help                          having f u n?"

  He experiences cold chill.       But,  o n e  isn’t the extent of his own list. Two. And premeditation on many, many more.       His glock is supposed to be for protective purposes only. But bitterness haves him wish he could draw it for sport.        A̡n̨d̕ ki͢l̸l ̸e̕v̀e̡ŕyone̕.͢

"… I… I did too. That’s… why I’m here. I went crazy and… killed two officers."