#i am aware its scissors he stabs michelle with but i liked it more with the letter opener

[kawareo-main]

the rot, PART 1

((hello im gonna try something new, this is a Rick trager fanfic, no real smut but heavily implied))

this is all my idea of Rick’s background, it started as a writing exercise and he was a good subject for it lol

TW: gore, descend into madness, 18+, disturbing

Rot.

Everything rots, the blood flow stops and everything goes to shit. Except maybe bugs – do bugs rot? Have you ever seen a rotten bug?

Richard sees his first rot when he is too young to remember, back when he would go play in the forest behind his parents’ mansion whenever they are too busy for him, and that is often.

He can’t remember properly, but it is a few months before his birthday, perhaps fifth, perhaps sixth.

He knows that dog, she is the neighbour’s, an old girl that Rick likes, even though she’s almost as big as him she was old and fragile and could only really wave her tail when he snuck over to pet her, Molly is her name.

Strange name for a dog.

Apparently she got too old for the neighbours though, proven by the bullet hole in her dumb big forehead.

It couldn’t have happened so long ago, she is still soft to pet – so Richard does just that, sits next to her and pets her, until she gets rigid and cold and his nanny calls for him to come back to dinner.

He visits Molly again, every day, he has no better company and she’s a good listener.

He watches her rot.

Her tongue turns pale and greenish, her big loving eyes sink into the skull, and Richard watches her fall apart. He can’t pet her anymore after a few weeks, her skin isnt connected to the flesh and it moves as a whole under his hands.

He watches the worms come.

Worms in her ears, maggots in her mouth, under her skin, making it move as if it’s alive, some sort of a monster, wearing Molly’s skin.

Richard celebrates his birthday with the maggots.

Sits next to them and Molly’s bones, sings himself a happy birthday, puts a cupcake in what is left of Molly’s mouth, maggots watching from what was once her eye.

Richard is lonely again when the maggots leave.

He doesn’t see his first human rot.

It’s one of the rare regrets Richard has, that he couldn’t put her in the woods next to Molly and watch maggots infest her pretty blue eyes, to touch her curly blonde hair, the silky skin as it goes cold and rigid...

But his father is as pale as a corpse when he fails to find a heartbeat, he jumps when he hears another car approaching.

It passes them without noticing, and Richard is too entranced with rain washing away all the blood to care until his father is yanking him away, back into the car. He drives away and tells him to never talk about this to anyone, that it didn’t happen, that there is no woman with a bloody forehead and tire traces down her broken back laying on the road, and Richard nods and never says a word. Promises to forget about it.

When he lays awake at night, breathing heavily with a sticky hand, he can’t help but remember.

Some people might be rotten, rotten and still alive.

Richard becomes Rick, for a friend, it’s the first time he can talk about the rot without being bad, Jeremy (Jer, its Jer, because they are friends) sits down and listens with his clever blue eyes. And he talks back, the two talk about rotting and blood and Molly, the man Jer saw die, the woman Rick saw dead.

They push a teacher down the stairs and watch the blood, Rick likes it more than his friend does, but Jer seems perfectly happy sitting there and getting away with it, he has a nasty grin and Rick loves it, the pain they cause and that they’re smart enough to get away.

Having a friend is much nicer than he expected.

He hopes Jeremy doesn’t rot.

 It’s wrong if women rot when you love them.

Rick’s aware of that, it’s why he uses pills to get as close as he can, he prefers if they lay down and pretend they’re dead, wraps his hand around their necks and feels the pulse, one he could silence with just a bit of a harder squeeze... He wants it, to dug into them, cut them open with a scalpel he isn’t licensed to use, cover himself in hot blood and feel it go cold on him, feel her go cold around him and him being the only hot thing left inside.

He doesn’t, though.

Jer says it would be too hard to clean up, and Rick tends to agree.

At least until they join Murkoff, and suddenly, Rick’s allowed to do anything he ever wanted.

And oh man, is it dark.

People rot at Mount Massive, Rick noticed.

Patients, doctors, guards, the asylum doesn’t discriminate and ruins everyone equally.

Rick feels just fine though.

Perhaps a little high constantly – but he blames the cocaine for it.

Perhaps a little... itchy.

Like there are maggots in his brain.

Cocaine, though.

He can blame cocaine for the itch.

He can blame cocaine and pretend that he doesn’t pick up a letter opener and find himself thinking of shoving it in good ole Jeremy’s skull down to the handle.

Rick sometimes thinks women have rotten brains, he agrees with Gluskin on that.

He doesn’t complain though, when a cute redheaded secretary starts looking at him with doe eyes, with a few more buttons popped open on her blouse.

He smiles and gives her a wink, and she giggles – it’s all so easy, Rick knows his way around women.

She doesn’t see him roll his eyes when he turns away.

Michelle Haas is her name, he has to remember it, can’t say the wrong name when he asks her out – he asks her and she says yes, she would love to go on a date with her rich and handsome boss, who wouldn’t?

Apparently, Jeremy wouldn’t.

But Jeremy was always smarter than average.

Which Michelle, oh sweet Michelle with a bland name and nice tits, is not.

Rick knows she’d let him fuck her, she wanted him to, even, but that was boring. Michelle was boring. He doesn’t like how bright her eyes are, and he doesn’t care for anything she says. So in the end, he still slips her the pill, still watches her slump in her chair and become soft in his hands.

He prefers it this way, it’s as far as he can cross the line before he would fall from a monster to the bottom of the barrel, same as his ‘patients’.

It’s what the asylum does to you, he realized, it takes good people and monsters and makes them all equal, equal in insanity.

Rick is better than that, better than them.

Rick refuses to rot.

Michelle Haas pulls an Uno reverse and fucks Rick over just a few months later.

It’s shit, it’s all shit, Rick’s house of cards is collapsing in on him and for the first time in his life his charm and quick mind aren’t helping him. If only he knew any other way, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t, so he does what he always did best and

  sinks

     deeper

       into shit.

 And it smells down there. Perhaps its not even shit, perhaps it’s rot, rot Rick’s been collecting his entire life, and now he’s neck deep in it, flies in his eyes, piles of rotting flesh threatening to bury him like how he refused to bury Molly.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking, asking the bitch of a detective for drinks (pointy nose, beady eyes, a weasel in a pencil skirt). He doesn’t know what made him put the roofies in her drink, as if she was just another sloppy cunt (bet it isn’t, bet she’s tight, bet she doesn’t get any.) he could get away with.

 Rick claims it was madness.

 (he doesn’t like pointy tits, that bony neck, no way he’d do her sane of mind)

 Jeremy claims it was ego.

((that bony neck, he should snap it, she’d deserve it for fucking with him))

Rick silently agrees         and            blames                  madness.

  ((beady eyes, beady eyes that see him rot, he wants to eat them)))

  He sits in his office and thinks, his heart is beating and maggots in his brains are eating away regrets he has, coke burning through his nostrils and his trust in Jeremy.

He knows Jeremy is talking to the detectives (the Pauls, the Pauls, Paul and Pauline, what a stupid coincidence is that?) in his office right now (fancy office, fancy suit, he wants to bend Jeremy over that table and strangle fuck strangle fuck him), he knows Jeremy’s trying to save his ass (would he get fucked in prison? Part of him hopes so, hopes years haven’t eaten off of him that much yet).

He knows that he knows and yet he can’t sit still, what if Jeremy fucks it up like how Rick did? What if he makes it worse?

 .....

 ..............

 What if he fucks Richard over?

 (would he? Is he selfish enough to betray his friend just to avoid taking the bla-)

  Rick’s marching down the hallway, legs carrying him as if they’d be piloted by the maggots in his brain and not him.

He bursts in the office (feels crowded with so many people here) and he sees them, their faces melting away in the features they share (beady eyes, they all have beady eyes, they all climb the glass ladder) until he sees the red hair.

Jeremy let Michelle whatshername come, and not Rick, not letting him defend himself, and Rick wants to call him out for it.

He takes a deep breath (air feels so stiff right now).

He walks forward, to explain himself (his hand reaches out, reaches for the desk).

He’s sure he can explain, puts on his trademark grin and  

 (( snaps ))

 gets away with it.

 (( “Liar, fucking liar!” ))

 He’s a charming guy, he knows he can do it, can fix what Michelle die die FUCKING DIE has done to him!

 Belly bursts, letter opener it hand, it opens bellies now, not letters, instead of paper guts spill out and its beautiful, red fills Rick’s hands and the belly bump the cunt refused to abort is gone, its gone, he solves his problem like how he should solve it months ago before

(( Pauline )) kicks him, she’s stronger than ((      ))

 got mixed in, and it can all be fine again, he can go back to golf with Jeremy

 (( Jeremy )) watches with a martini in hand and a smile on his face, ((      )) meets his eyes before (( the bitch )) slams his head in a paper shredder.

 Hair rips.

 Hair grows back.

 Rick can go back, back to what he was, a monster in the shadows, untouchable

 Pauline holds his head there while he screams, the hair being torn off, Jeremy’s pants tenting, Paul helping Mariane while she’s bleeding on the floor, her baby dead, dead, fucking dead like how Rick wanted it from the moment he learnt it was in there

 because Rick always WAS always untouchable, out of reach, better than everyone, better than shitty patients he oversees

 doctors strap him on a table while he trashes, screams his name, screams for Jeremy to               stop it.            but Jeremy just watches and doesn’t touch, Jeremy doesn’t like touching patients.

 i’m Richard fucking Trager, executive at this fucking

 Doesn’t like to touch a crazy man.

 crazy, you’re crazy.

 words blend in, bugs eat, devour, and they’re so much like Jeremy, praying on the rotten, the moment the meat isn’t fresh anymore

 rick and jer

 jeremy smiles and his face melts and he doesn’t have it anymore, jer is gone and jeremy follows, leaving nothing behind

  rick

nothing but Blaire, murkoff executive, mount massive director, lone wolf of wallstreet.

  richard

  blaire looks as the machines close and richard bangs on the glass, he screams so hard he thinks he bursts a lung before machines had the chance to, and

   patient 21-B03

                       morphogenic engine activation, phase 1

 PART 2 still in working :)