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Post by Val on Aug 4, 2020 3:16:25 GMT
Julian stood there and watched the cleaver slice through the various cuts of meat so many times that he had ingrained the maneuver in his mind and could envision his own hand follow the same motion. The grip on the handle, the positioning, the exact force required to hack through- say, an ankle? He observed long enough to lose his appetite before the greasy butcher suddenly planted the edge of the blade into the wooden workstation and disappeared into his hut. The man had followed this pattern before, except this was the first time that he removed his bloody apron on the way inside.
Several seconds passed and then Julian was on the move. He hadn't even entirely worked out a plan, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one and he wasn't about to squander it. He strode toward the shop at a pace that could pass for casual, his senses on high alert as he exposed himself to the few inhabitants of the settlement. The buzzing of flies could be heard as he approached the meat stand with his eyes on the prize. His pace didn't falter for even a moment as his hand reached out and deftly swiped the cleaver from where it was lodged into the wood. He tucked the tool into his jacket and kept walking, feeling that lovely surge of adrenaline that followed getting away with something.
When no one called out or chased him down, Julian continued straight through the ramshackle town and then looped back around to follow the river the way he'd come. While he hadn't officially come to any sort of decision or laid out a plan, as was his usual modus operandi, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Subconsciously, he knew exactly what he was about to do, but it was difficult to admit to himself that he was going back for Kinsley. He had plenty of time to work through the complexities of the decision on his walk.
However, "working through it" was a bit of an understatement. About halfway through the laborious trek, Julian halted in his tracks once again and pulled the butcher knife from his jacket, eyeing the blade as it glinted in the sunlight. He laughed suddenly, the sound loud enough to scare off any nearby birds, and shook his head at himself in disbelief, "Are you fucking kidding me?" he questioned himself aloud and turned around, heading back three paces before stopping again.
Kinsley's face flashed in his mind. He could see her thanking him, leaning on him as she struggled to walk with her missing foot, relying on him entirely to survive. The vision was so appealing that he abruptly turned back around and continued onward toward the cabin. It was easier to justify the decision for selfish reasons, and he found himself moving faster this time as he imagined what an utter waste of time it would be if he was too late.
Sweat had begun to bead and drip from his forehead by the time the cabin came into view. It was rare to see Julian in a rush, but as soon as the coast appeared to be clear, he closed the remaining distance between himself and the forsaken house. He almost barged directly through the front door when he noticed that it was nearly halfway ajar- not the way he'd left it. Immediately on edge, he nudged the door the rest of the way open and narrowed his eyes as it creaked on its hinges. He stepped into the foyer and his eyes landed on a knife that had been left on the floor of the kitchen. Instead of selecting the obvious weapon choice, he picked up an gnome carving he'd tipped over earlier and clutched it at his side. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he crept toward the bedroom, finding that it too was open and not at all how he left it.
Julian stepped into the door frame and paused, making direct eye contact with a stranger who had turned in response to his unexpected presence. The young man had been leaned over Kinsley on the bed, pressing a cool compress to her forehead. Now, however, he was regarding Julian with fear stricken eyes. Clearly Kinsley had conjured up some sort of story in which he was the deranged villain who'd mangled her foot and left her there to die- how apt.
"D-don't come any closer," the man stuttered, holding his palms up in surrender, "I'm just trying to help her. Please. I'll give you anything, just leave us."
Us? Julian visibly twitched. "You bitch," he spat, his words directed at Kinsley. She had so quickly latched onto her next host, like an unquenchable leech.
His eyes flickered over Kinsley's still form, finding a questionable sense of relief settle over him when he realized she was still hanging on. In fact, she looked better than expected- probably because of the fool she'd tricked into being her caretaker.
The man in front of him didn't deserve to be addressed, he was simply an obstacle that was about to be removed. Julian advanced forward a step and the man backed into the center of the room with his hands now balling into fists, though he was weaponless like a fool. He sized up his opponent quickly and, while the man was stockier, Julian had the height and reach advantage. With this in mind, he prowled forward with a vengeance. The man continued backing up until he bumped the dresser on the far wall. Cornered like an animal, the stranger lashed out at him with a poorly executed swing and missed. Julian cocked his arm back and swung the wooden carving, whacking the man across the entire side of his face with the solid object. A spray of blood stained the wallpaper and the clatter of teeth could be heard as the dislodged shards scattered beneath the bed. The man dropped like a sack- unconscious, but not dead. No...Julian had other plans for him.
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Post by starrea on Aug 5, 2020 2:49:15 GMT
The last thing Kinsley remembered was being on the kitchen floor in the cabin that probably doubled as the gateway to hell, hands wrapped around a knife, and a stranger walking in. After that, things got confusing.
"Dance with me." It wasn't a question; he never asked what she wanted. She extended her hand out nonetheless, placing it in his hand and allowing him to pull her into him. His arms swept her up, pulling her close. The music was soft and she allowed him to lead, content to play the part of what he wanted her to be for now. He had thought he won. He was wrong. The rest of the world ceased to exist and it was only just them, their bodies swaying to the soft music long into the night. Neither of them spoke - there was nothing worth saying. Kinsley was a lot of things, but never quiet. Her silence only played to her favor; he thought her silence was further proof that he had won and she was more than satisfied to let him think whatever he pleased.
Their feud had started three months ago when he had watched Kinsley put out a cigarette on a drunk, unconscious guy outside of a bar. As soon as she saw him, Kinsley knew that he was a force to be reckoned with and she was young and stupid and desperate for a challenge. He wasn't like everyone else; he saw something dark in Kinsley and instead of being repulsed, he was attracted. He was similar; dark and wrong in all of the right ways. There weren't quite beasts of the same nature; he messed around with more hard drugs than Kinsley did, and he was so much more chaos than she had ever seen with no one to ground him. There were no parents, or teachers, or authorities breathing down his neck, reminding him of how to act, what to say, what to do. He was free to create whatever chaos he wanted to create and it was beautiful.
The connection between them was never meant to last. They weren't sustainable, not with their level of chaos and destructiveness. But their story didn't have to end in death, at least not from the beginning. Now, there was no other choice - the only way they could be free of each other was through death. Three weeks ago, he made a mistake. He thought that she had become reliant on him, become so enamored by the recklessness of his life that when he took away her power, she would kneel before him. He was a fool, and he would pay for his sins with his life.
Hours passed before he finally spoke, "Come home with me," Again, it wasn't a question and she knew he expected her to obey. She nodded because that is what he wanted from her and allowed him to pull her from the bar and back to his home. The door had barely shut before he had her pinned up against the wall, his lips on hers. The kiss was needy and fervent and it overpowered Kinsley. As much as she wanted to fight back, she knew that it would be a waste of energy. He was double her size and even if he only used half his strength, she still wouldn't stand a chance.
"Let me get you a drink," Kinsley offered breathlessly as soon as he pulled away. For a tense moment, she thought he was just going to ignore her. His lips traveled down her neck, sending disgusted shivers down her spine. He finally nodded, grazing his lips over her neck for another couple of seconds before pulling away. Kinsley wasted no time in scurrying towards the kitchen, straight to where she knew he kept the alcohol. She grabbed two glasses and poured them both a generous portion of moonshine before added a second ingredient to one of the glasses. It only took the powder a few seconds to dissolve and she gathered up both glasses and returned to him.
"I didn't say you could have any," He growled but she didn't care as she lifted the glass to her lips and emptied half of it before bringing it down. Her cheeks were flushed and her body was humming with excitement for what she knew what was about to come. He sipped his drink, his eyes raking over her body appreciatively; he noticed how excited she was, and he thought it all for him - technically it was, just not in the way he was anticipating. She pounded the rest of her drink, meeting his eyes with a silent challenge. He never backed down from a challenge, especially not when it came to her, and he downed the rest of his glass before putting it down.
When his lips met hers, she kissed him back with the same fervor that he had. It took him by surprise but he wasn't displeased and he locked her body against the wall, hiking her legs up so they wrapped around his body. For the moment, Kinsley allowed herself to lose herself in him. But then the moment ended. Kinsley felt the drug start to take effect slowly at first; his hands slipped, and then slowly lowered her back to the ground when he realized he couldn't quite support her. His kiss got less and less aggressive as he lost control over the finer movements. Eventually, he pulled away, confused until he looked at her. She didn't have to say anything - one look at her face and he knew what she had done.
"I'm sorry," He tried, but the words were slurred. He staggered backwards, his back hitting the opposite wall. Kinsley shook her head slowly, "No you're not," He didn't say anything because he knew she was right and he knew that there was no point in lying to her. "You don't know what you're doing," He wheezed, but Kinsley only shook her head again. "Thanks to you, I know exactly what I'm doing. You've shown me what to do." She stalked closer to him as his legs gave out and he crumpled to the ground, and he tried to reason with her one last time. It was foolish because he should have known better than anyone else that there was no reasoning with her. "It doesn't need to end like this," He tried, but even he knew it was a lie. Kinsley looked down at him as he fought for each breath, "Yes it does," She said calmly, "You made sure that it does. Your mistake was thinking that I wouldn't do this to you, especially when you were the one who told me to explore my impulses." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't have the chance. He couldn't breathe anymore and his eyes bulged out of his head as he desperately tried to suck air in, but his lungs didn't work right anymore and they refused to comply. Time slowed down and Kinsley relished in every single moment until long after his heart stopped beating.
Kinsley felt something soft beneath her and she realized that she was no longer in the kitchen. She tried to remember how she got here, but all she could remember was his face as he realized that he couldn't breathe. Kinsley had hardly given him a thought for the past eight years but she wasn't surprised that his ghost resurfaced when she was on her death bed. She had been with him at his end and it only made sense that he was with her at her end.
Maybe it was the alcohol, the pain, the very-possible infection, the fact that she was going to die, or the resurgence of a memory she wanted to stay buried, but Kinsley wanted to laugh. She was floating halfway between consciousness and unawareness so she wasn't sure if the laugh was just inside her head or not, but it made her feel lighter all the same.
A coldness on her head that she hadn't been aware was ripped away, and there was more than one voice. The stimulation slashed through the veil of oblivion and she finally opened her eyes, squinting from the light. There were two people, but everything was blurry and watching them move resulted in sharp pains in her head. She groaned, closing her eyes, but the sound of something being hit caused them to open again. This time, one of the people were on the ground and someone else stood over him. It took a moment but his face finally started to come into focus and Kinsley seized up with alarm.
"Harvey?" Her words came out more slurred than she intended, but the very possiblity of Harvey being here was sobering her up real fast. The face continued to come into focus and Kinsley felt herself relax - "Julian," She said softly, checking the face of the other person on the ground to make sure that he, too, wasn't Harvey. The pain came back in waves, getting stronger each second.
"Why did you come back?" Kinsley asked the million dollar question, too caught up in the ghost of Harvey and the exponentially-increasing pain to try and figure out why he was back.
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Post by Val on Aug 7, 2020 2:46:52 GMT
Julian was standing over his victim, enjoying the rush he'd gotten from watching the man slump to the floor, when Kinsley's voice reached him. He instantly froze in response to the foreign name that fell from her lips. Harvey? It was a massive strike to his ego. How could she possibly mistake him for someone else? His glare flashed between Kinsley and the man on the floor, but it didn't seem like she'd been referring to him. Rather, the name caused her anxiety, and he tucked the little tidbit of ammunition away for later use.
Deciding to ignore her altogether out of spite, he set to work dealing with the unconscious man first. Grabbing him by the ankles, he dragged the limp body into the bathroom and closed the door before propping a chair against the handle to lock him inside. He would be dealt with later. Returning to the bedroom, Julian appeared to be a man on a mission, which was no surprise.
"We have unfinished business," he finally gave Kinsley an answer, though he kept it vague. It wasn't the answer she was looking for, but it was the truth. He wasn't about to allow their time together to be cut short by some random act of God. If they were destined to part ways, it was going to be on Julian's terms. Stopping at her bedside, he looked over her as the wheels turned in his head. He was obviously up to something that he didn't seem all that prepared for- as though impulse had driven him back to this house on a whim.
Julian avoided elaborating because surely she would not react kindly to what he was about to do to her, and he wasn't about to give her a choice. She could thank him later. Leaning over her, he lifted Kinsley bridal style into his arms and carried her out of the bedroom. It had to be about the third time he'd carried her somewhere since they'd met, which was a distinctly unusual for Julian who was notoriously opposed to unnecessary skin to skin contact. Nevertheless, he took it as a good sign; third time's a charm.
Transporting her into the living area, he laid her down atop a large table that appeared to double as both a dining table and a wood carving station. Now, it would prove its worth as an operating table. Once Kinsley was settled onto the hard surface, he disappeared into the kitchen and headed right for the liquor cabinet. He hadn't told Kinsley, but the couple had a few more bottles of questionable liquor squirreled away in the cabinets. He grabbed the one that looked most promising as a sterilizer and produced the meat cleaver from his jacket. Pouring the alcohol over the blade, he cleaned the tool as quickly as possible, not wanting to draw this experience out more than necessary.
Now that Julian was imminently about to perform an amputation, he took a moment to let the idea sink in, trying to decipher how he felt about it. On the one hand, his morbid curiosity wasn't opposed to doing the deed. He'd seen limbs get cut off before, but he'd never considered performing a gruesome act to actually save someone. The only problem was that he truly didn't want to maim Kinsley. He despised such imperfections, but there was no other choice, and he would be lucky if he succeeded at all.
When he returned to the living room, he headed straight for the fire place and struck up a match, tossing it onto the firewood that had already been left by their gracious hosts. While the fire grew, Julian returned to Kinsley, though he continued to avoid eye contact. He had grabbed a thick rag from the kitchen and pulled it out of his pocket now, displaying it for Kinsley, "I'm going to need to you bite down on this," he informed her, finally hinting at his intentions. He waited for her reaction, curious to see if she would be grateful for his genius idea, or downright terrified. It didn't matter, though. In the next few minutes, Kinsley would lose her foot and there was nothing she could do about it.
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Post by starrea on Aug 8, 2020 23:52:38 GMT
Julian didn't answer, but Kinsley hadn't really expected him too. She didn't waste energy trying to keep her eyes open, which was surprisingly difficult. The light and sounds assaulted her mind that was, at best, working at about half capacity. She figured she wouldn't have to wait long for answers, anyway - Julian revealed his answers in his own time and he didn't come all the way back for nothing. Sensations were more manageable with her eyes were closed and she listened to the unmistakable sound of something heavy being dragged, followed by the shutting of a door and the scrap of something being dragged in front of it. She couldn't help but smile; the other person was still alive, but not for long.
So much time had passed between Kinsley's question and Julian's woefully vague answer that Kinsley had to remember what question he was answering. She didn't bother answering - there was nothing worth saying, not when every breath felt relentlessly taxing. Suddenly, the bed disappeared beneath her and the surprise elicited a squeak of surprise from her. Her arms latched onto Julian's neck, unprepared for the wave of pain that came seconds after. The movement sent flames traveling up her nerves, pain so hot that she was completely at it's mercy, unable to do anything more than cling onto Julian. The pain was all-consuming; it took all of her energy just to stay conscious, leaving nothing for anything other than her shallow, irregular breathing.
Kinsley felt herself being put down, but it was hard to care about anything other than the extreme amount of pain she was in. It consumed her entire world and even after she had stopped moving, the pain only subsided a bit. The reemergence of Harvey's ghost had sobered her enough that the pain was wrecking her, but still drunk enough that she felt heavy and slow. Kinsley wasn't sure how much time passed before she finally opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She couldn't immediately see Julian but she did recognize she was still in the cabin and on the table. She tried to look around for Julian, but when she didn't find him, she tried to see if there was anything that answered the question as to why the fuck she was on the table. Unfortunately, the strange cabin was not forthcoming with it's secrets and all Kinsley could do was wait until Julian came back for her.
As soon as Julian walked back into the room, Kinsley tried to push herself up. Even though she was bearing the pain silently, she still couldn't sit all the way up without throwing up. Her eyes struggled to focus on Julian and what he was carrying - a meat cleaver - but it wasn't until he produced a rag with the instructions to bite down on it that the significance of the cleaver sunk in. He was going to kill her.
For a long minute, Kinsley was paralyzed by shock. Sure, Kinsley had accepted she was going to die sooner rather than later (only because she had no other choice), but it was different to be faced with the fact that she was going to die now. She hadn't quite figured out how she felt about it and for a moment, panic bubbled up inside of her; there was so much of life she had yet to experience, so much she wanted to accomplish, but rationality deflated her. She was dying and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Before, she had always imagined herself going out in a blaze of glory, in some sort of fiery explosion that claimed her life as well as the authorities as they chased her. Unfortunately, with her dead foot, she couldn't even die the way she wanted. But Julian came back just for her, and the thought of dying by his hand calmed her. Anything was preferable to dying a slow, painful death via necrosis and infection.
Kinsley grabbed the rag, trying to mentally prepared herself for what was about to happen but felt hopelessly unprepared. It didn't matter if she was ready or not; she was going to die anyway, and she wasn't afraid.
"I don't think I'm a psychopath," Kinsley didn't know where the words came from, but now that her time was limited it was urgent that she followed this train of thought, "Because I feel. I feel everything; happiness, sadness, anger, love... remorse. So I don't know what that makes me," Kinsley trailed off, not entirely sure where she was going with this. It took her a couple of seconds before she opened her mouth to speak again but no words came out. Instead, she stuffed the rag into her mouth and laid herself back on the table and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, imagining the blade lodging itself in her neck. Perhaps, right before she died, she would be able to hear the sound of the blood spurting out of her neck - what a lovely sound that would be to die to.
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Post by Val on Aug 10, 2020 0:21:39 GMT
Psychopath.The word sent Julian spiraling instantly and his gaze became unfocused as he loomed over Kinsley.
"That child is a psychopath." The first time he heard the word was the day he'd snapped the neck of the family cat, just to see what it would feel like. His father had beaten him for it, and blamed his mother for the sick act.
"You're a psychopath, you know that?" The second time was a taunt from a girl he'd taken interest in during his childhood. He'd described the process of rigor mortis to her in great detail, and he didn't see much of her after that.
"I want that psychopath hanged!" This time it was a local merchant after he had set his shop ablaze and sat across the road to watch the chaos unfold. His grandfather had gotten him out of that one. There was no proof he'd done it, after all.
The instances went on and on to the point where Julian grew to despise the word. He refused to believe that anything was inherently wrong with him. If he was a psychopath, then his brain was damaged, and that was unacceptable. He firmly believed that his choices were his own- not some genetic predisposition. Except, the way that Kinsley described it made it increasingly difficult to dispute the diagnosis that so many had forced upon him.
Because Julian didn't feel.
Sure, he experienced anger when things didn't go his way. He got jealous, he knew fear, and he was well accustomed to anxiety. But...something was missing. He didn't feel sadness- couldn't fathom why people felt the need to cry when they weren't in physical pain. He never loved anyone, not even his own family. And he couldn't even begin to imagine what remorse felt like. Hearing Kinsley admit to her own emotions left him wondering the same questions. If they weren't the same, then why did he feel drawn to her?
The inner turmoil only lasted a few moments before Julian appeared to snap back to the task at hand. When he looked back at Kinsley, he was surprised to find her resigned and waiting for him to continue. For some reason, he'd expected a fight. It was possible that she was more disoriented than he thought, but there was no point in further explaining when she was fully compliant.
Julian returned to the fireplace and knelt down to hold the meat cleaver over the flames, waiting until the metal burned red with extreme heat. He was no doctor, but he knew how amputations worked due to his insatiable curiosity. He stared into the fire for a prolonged moment- ticking all the check boxes in his mind to be sure that he was prepared before returning to the operating table. He slipped his belt from the loops of his pants and wrapped it around Kinsley's thigh, cinching it tight enough to act as a tourniquet. Finally, Julian gripped the butcher's knife in the manner he had studied so closely, and positioned himself near Kinsley's disfigured foot.
"I feel nothing," he uttered quietly, as though the words weren't exactly meant for her.
Time slowed down and his ears rang as he lifted the knife and aimed for the the joint in her ankle, right above where the dark, infected looking skin ended. Without warning, or even so much as taking another look at Kinsley, he swung the cleaver down forcefully upon her limb and a sickening crack filled the room. The blood was immediate and relentless, like an oil spill flooding the table as Julian was forced to inspect the cut. Unfortunately, he'd only made it halfway through. Once again, he raise the knife and hacked into her ankle, this time resulting in a thud when the blade sunk into the wood beneath her. The foot was detached.
He pressed the broad side of the scalding hot blade against Kinsley's open wound, effectively cauterizing the amputation with a sizzling sound and the horrid stench of burnt flesh. And just like that, the blood stopped flowing and Kinsley's severed foot remained on the edge of the table in a grotesque pool of blood. It was a deadly reminder of what could have been, or could still be, Kinsley's fate. Julian was covered in splatters of blood when he turned to look at Kinsley to find out how she'd fared during the ordeal.
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Post by starrea on Aug 10, 2020 18:58:24 GMT
Kinsley waited.... and waited, and waited, and waited some more, but the swift blade of knife and her inevitably abrupt ending never came. Seconds passed unbearably slowly, each moment reminding Kinsley that she was down to her last minutes. Her hourglass had run out and she was left watching the last little grain of sand trickle down to condemn her. More time passed; the seconds just kept on ticking by and Kinsley just kept breathing. Finally, Kinsley opened her eyes and found herself surprised that he wasn't looming over her with the blade raised, ready to strike her down. In fact, he wasn't even near her - he was across the room, holding the blade in the fire. Kinsley opened her mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, but the words didn't come out. In the end, the process of how he killed her didn't matter as long as she ended up dead. Who was she to ruin his ritual?
Kinsley's head fell back to the table and she closed her eyes, painfully aware that these were her last moments. The anticipation was far worse than the pain in her foot and she fought the urge to snap at Julian to hurry the fuck up. She almost did, too, but she finally heard him return to her side. Her body tensed up in anticipation, her heart racing. When he finally cut through her neck, blood would spray across the room, soaking this horrid cabin in her very essence. Again, though, the blow never came. Kinsley blew out a sigh of frustration, she never thought she would be mad that someone was taking too long to kill here but here they were. Julian grabbed her leg and Kinsley flinched so hard if it weren't for Julian holding her leg, she might have rolled off of the table. His touch only brought more confusion; why was he wrapping something around her leg? Kinsley finally opened her eyes as something was pulled tight around her leg and she finally realized something wasn't right.
Kinsley watched him raise the blade but it wasn't poised over her neck. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place - he wasn't going to kill her, he was going to cut her foot off. The realization shocked her and for a second, she couldn't do anything but stare at the blade that was about to come down on her foot. She heard Julian speak but she couldn't focus on his words, she couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that she was about to permanently disfigured and somehow, that was worse than death. His words broke the spell that kept her motionless and she clawed at the table, trying to pull herself in any direction that was away from the blade.
"No! No, stop! Let me go!" Kinsley screeched, but as soon as she had started to move, Julian's hand had wrapped around her leg like a cuff and held it immobile. She brought her other leg up to kick at him but he easily used his weight to hold her down. Her pleas were the form of self preservation she had, and even though she knew he wouldn't stop, she couldn't stop them. "Julian, stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Every time she tried to sit up, he pushed her back down, easily batting her hands away. He was intensely focused on the task at hand and her struggles and screams barely seemed to phase him.
Kinsley couldn't do anything but watch the blade come down on her ankle. The pain was the most intense sensation she had ever felt; it washed over her body, lighting every nerve on fire. She hadn't realized it but she had started screaming and she couldn't stop. The rag had fallen out of her mouth and was long forgotten, her eyes locked onto the blood spurting out of her ankle. The cleaver hadn't cut all the way through and Julian had to yank the cleaver out of her ankle to raise it again. When he raised it again, her screams amplified but she was paralyzed to fight back. Instead, she just laid there as he brought it down again, this time successfully cutting her foot off. Kinsley hadn't thought the pain could get worse, but then Julian pressed the broad side of the red-hot cleaver up against her fresh stump and the pain was so intense that Kinsley got dizzy. She knew that extreme pain often caused people to pass out, but Kinsley wasn't granted this mercy. Instead, she was forced to feel every agonizing moment.
"What did you do? What did you do?" Even after Julian took the blade away, Kinsley couldn't stop screaming. She couldn't look away from her dead, detached foot and the bloody, burnt stump where it used to be attached to her. It was horribly grotesque and there was absolutely no way it would ever be fixed. She was permanently damaged. Finally, she looked up at Julian, who was more or less apathetic. She channeled the pain and anguish into anger and lashed out at him, leaning forward to beat her fists weakly against him. "How dare you! How dare you!"
The short burst of exertion left Kinsley winded and she couldn't keep up her weak assault on Julian for more than a few seconds. Her lungs burned for air and she was finally forced to stop screaming and she was left panting, looking between Julian and her foot.
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Post by Val on Aug 10, 2020 20:49:24 GMT
Julian did not once register her frantic pleas or attempts to get free, restraining her only by instinct as he worked. He'd mentally blocked out all noise and intrusions in order to get the job done, and was still in a state of limbo as he faced Kinsley post operation. Even then, he saw Kinsley's mouth moving as she yelled at him, but heard nothing other than a high pitched ringing in his ears. He watched as she expended her limited energy to hit him, but he didn't react to the thuds of her fists against his chest, either.
He'd achieved an undeniable rush from what he'd done and it took a long time before the adrenaline seeped out of him and everything came back into focus. By then, Kinsley had worked herself to exhaustion and now lay still. He was shocked to find that she had managed to remain conscious and continued staring at her, half expecting her to drop dead. Fortunately, that moment never came and his gaze trailed back to the bloody stump of her leg that had been left behind. There was still work to be done.
"You're welcome," he told her, figuring that about summed up a response to whatever she'd been screaming at him. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the kitchen again, feeling lightheaded as he moved away from the scene. Despite his morbid interest in the procedure, gore did not appeal to Julian. He preferred to keep it clean and meticulous, but there hadn't really been a choice in the matter. Now, the smell of blood and burnt flesh was starting to get to him.
From the kitchen, he gathered a bottle of alcohol, a handful of towels, and a canteen of water before returning to the operating table that Kinsley was still stranded on. First, he threw a towel over her severed foot and wrapped it up to remove it from sight. He laid out some of the other towels across the bloody mess to separate her leg from the fluid and then popped open the liquor bottle. Surprisingly, he tipped it against his lips to down a burning swig- perhaps the only sign that he was even remotely affected by the event. He cringed at the awful taste and then poured some of the contents over Kinsley's wound without warning, aware that it would be excruciating, but still working like a robot to finish the job.
"Pick your poison," he offered, placing both the bottle of alcohol and the flask of water beside her. He then picked out the cleanest towel of the bunch and wrapped it around Kinsley's stump, using the belt that had been around her leg to cinch it in place mid calf. He took a step back to observe his work and came to the conclusion that he'd achieved near perfection. She was lucky.
The calm after the storm abruptly ended when a noise sounded from the bathroom. His neck snapped around to glare at the door as a muffled voice piped in, "Hello?" the man within called weakly. Julian seethed from being reminded of the intruder's presence and rounded on Kinsley again, "Who the fuck is that man?" he demanded to know, basically accusing her of the fact that she had traitorously accepted help from an outsider.
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Post by starrea on Aug 11, 2020 2:53:48 GMT
Even though Kinsley had settled into a state of calm, volatile instability simmer just below the surface and she was one comment away from a full-scale explosion. By some stroke of luck, Kinsley hardly registered Julian's 'you're welcome'; if she hadn't been in a state of shock and pain, she would have surely ripped his head off for the inconsiderate comment that followed the insufferable, selfish act. She didn't even notice that Julian vanished from her side. All she saw was her dead foot and the clear space that separated it from her bloody stump. She inspected the stump a little more closely, cringing to see how ugly it looked. Even when it healed, it would still mar her image; it ruined her.
It wasn't until a towel was thrown over the foot that Kinsley finally snapped out of her trance and acknowledged Julian. Her eyes flicked to him but her anger was subdued under the incredible amount of pain she was in. She felt weaker than she had before and her vision was decorated with black dots that wouldn't go away. For a moment, Kinsley thought that she was finally mercifully surrendering to unconsciousness, but Julian didn't allow mercy. Instead, he wordlessly dumped the alcohol on her wound and the pain was so hot and raw that it jolted her awake and she whined in pain. The pain was sharp, like knives swimming through her veins up her leg and into her spine. The table shook beneath her and it took her a moment to recognize that it was she who was shaking, her body involuntarily and shakily shaking from the pain. Her skin felt hot and clammy and finally, silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
It was hard to focus on anything other than the pain but she tried to latch onto Julian's voice. As angry as she was with him, she didn't have the energy to put him in his place. Instead, she blindly reached out for the water, grabbing it and hastily bringing it to her lips and chugged it. The water spilled from the flask and down her chest, but she hardly cared about anything other than how desperately thirsty she was. When her thirst was finally quenched, she reached for the alcohol and chugged that, too. The burn was hardly noticeable amidst her pain and it made her nausea as soon as it hit her stomach, but she didn't stop. She needed this more than she had needed anything else in her entire life. She finished the bottle in record time, panting as she lay there covered in blood, sweat, and booze.
Kinsley wanted to pass out. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tried to fall into the void of nothingness that would take her away from the pain she was in. But Julian's voice broke through, pulling her back into consciousness, forcing her to feel the pain. The anger surged up, hotter than any anger she had felt before - and she had killed for less. She couldn't believe the insolence; how dare he accuse her of anything after he had cut her foot off without her permission. He was clearly jealous but Kinsley didn't revel in it - there was only anger. Her hand gripped the empty bottle of liquor tightly and she imagined cracking it over his head. Instead, she settled for hurling it across the room and watching it explode into hundreds of shards of glass that rained down over the creepy statuettes that inhabited the cabin.
"How dare you accuse me of anything!" Kinsley snarled, her voice lethal. "I don't know who the fuck he is, because I was unconscious for damn near the entire time. You probably talked to him more than me." She paused, letting her words sink in, "But I promised him that if he helped me, I would fuck him." She lied; if he was jealous over her accepting help from another man, she hoped that her slutty promise pissed him off. He deserved to feel every ounce of pain she had, and she would make sure justice was delivered, even if it meant one cutting comment at a time.
Kinsley was still on the damn table and she suddenly wanted off. She needed to be as far away from this table - and her foot - as possible. She struggled to sit up, the pain with the mix of water and alcohol making her gag. She paused, taking a few deep breaths to force the bile down. She refused to throw up, she needed to absorb every drop of alcohol. When she finally felt like she could move without vomiting, she tried to wiggle her way towards the edge of the table before it became evident that she wouldn't be able to move without help. With her wound so fresh and only one foot to walk on, there was simply no way she could go anywhere without assistance from someone else. Her independence was gone and the frustration alone brought another wave of tears that streamed down her cheeks - but she still didn't ask for help. Not from Julian.
"Let him out," Kinsley demanded, sending Julian a seething glare, "I need his help."
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Post by Val on Aug 12, 2020 3:17:16 GMT
A smirk formed across Julian's lips as he watched the glass bottle shatter into a million pieces against the wall. He liked seeing Kinsley riled up, and her strength was evident in that moment as she managed to have a complete outburst after having her foot hacked off. The rage and hatred were expected, but she would be grateful to him one day- perhaps once she accepted that she needed him from here on out. A foot was a small price to pay for a second chance at life.
It wasn't until Kinsley went out of her way to antagonize him that the self indulgent smile faded from his face. She was bluffing and he knew it, but he took the bait nonetheless, allowing the disgust to taint his bloodstream until he practically saw red. He stared right through her, his breathing abnormally slow and even for the eruption that was taking place inside of him. He was going to make sure she regret playing this game with him. Julian didn't participate in inflammatory lies, especially when they involved her being a whore. If that's the story she was going with, then he would see it through.
He stood rigidly in the living room as he watched her struggle to get off the table. The sight of her moving recklessly after all of his hard work made a sharp pain start up in his forehead. Migraines were common for him, especially when he felt overwhelmed, and he was ready to exact revenge upon someone in this damned house in order to alleviate the pain.
"Fine," he snapped at her. Carrying her back to the room would break his rule of three anyway. It was rather convenient that he had a pawn waiting in the bathroom to do his dirty work. He stormed toward the door that contained the hostage and swung it open with a bang to find the bloody mess of a man sitting in one corner of the room. He jumped at the sight of Julian, raising his hand in a show of surrender.
"Please, I just wanted to help. If you let me go, I won't say a word to anyone." The pleas were an absolute waste of breath when it came to Julian. He was already crossing the room so that he could loom threateningly over the young man. It was only then that he realized he was gripping the bloody meat cleaver in one hand. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the way over; splattered with blood, eyes wild, and weapon drawn. The look on his victim's face confirmed how terrifying he appeared in that moment.
"Shut up and listen to me," Julian commanded through gritted teeth, "You're going to do whatever I tell you. If you don't, I will kill you. Then I will find your family, and I will kill them, too. Got it, Buddy?" The instructions were simple, but words were empty. Buddy- the only name Julian planned on calling the guy- was going to die either way.
Buddy nodded quickly, cowering into the wall the more Julian closed in on him. Once he received cooperation, Julian reached out and grabbed Buddy by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to his feet and out of the bathroom. With a firm shove, Julian sent the man sprawling across the floor in front of the table that Kinsley was stranded on. Julian took a particular sick pleasure in watching the man absorb the grotesque scene that surrounded him; only a few brief moments passed before he propped himself up on his hands and knees and began to retch.
"Carry my lady here to bed. She's not feeling well," Julian instructed, crossing his arms as he leaned casually up against the wall. His eyes found Kinsley's again, and they contained a clear warning. He was always up for a challenge, but he would never go easy on her. Even the state she was in now would not prevent him from putting her in her place by any means necessary. Although he had given Kinsley what she asked for, it was clear that he had darker intentions.
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Post by starrea on Aug 13, 2020 1:27:07 GMT
The comment had its desired effect and Kinsley's lips curled up into a wicked smile as she watched Julian descend into rage. He was an easy distraction for the pain; every subtle movement, every beat of her heart, every breath caused to pulsate with pain. Instead, she focused on the way he unraveled after just one simple sentence. The pain was easily modified into an anger so potent that it left a tangible taste in mouth and gave her renewed purpose. When Julian finally moved, Kinsley was sure that it was going to be an assault on her and she braced herself for the hit that she was sure was coming. Instead, she watched him stomp out of the room and towards where the good Samaritan was trapped and was genuinely shocked that he had heeded her request. The shock receded to be replaced by paranoia; Kinsley knew they were playing a dangerous game and one wrong move would truly result in her death - and that couldn't happen until there was retribution.
As much as Kinsley wanted to succumb to her pain and exhaustion, she couldn't. Her entire body shook from a mixture of pain, shock, and fatigue and it was difficult to keep herself upright after Julian had left the room. Fortunately, he return was prompt preceded by the good Samartin, who took one look at Kinsley and her foot-less leg and started retching. The instantaneous, visceral reaction from the stranger stunned Kinsley and she felt her cheeks heat up from an uncomfortable mixture and anger and embarrassment. Kinsley had only bothered to look at her foot, but she followed the stranger's gaze down her body and realized for the first time that she was splattered with her own blood. She was a disgusting mess of blood, sweat, and tears, with an added grotesque detail. Even though Kinsley knew that the stranger's reaction was due to the macabre scene in front of him, she still felt humiliated that someone had nearly vomited just from the sight of her.
Kinsley sent Julian another infuriated glare when he referred to her as 'his lady'. His warning was crystal clear; he was cautioning her to behave and yield to him or there would be consequences. Instead of caving in, Kinsley matched his intense stare with one of her own. Her message was equally as clear; she wasn't backing down. It wasn't until the stranger finally got to his feet that she broke away from staring at Julian. Unfortunately for the stranger, Kinsley saw him as no less of a pawn than Julian undoubtedly did. It was unfortunate that his price to pay for stopping to save an injured woman would be his death, but this was too important of a game for Kinsley to care about anything other than winning.
The stranger was shaking almost as much as she was when he finally made it over to the table. Kinsley looked up at him, giving him an encouraging smile as if she were just as much of a victim in this situation as he was. He leaned over her ever-so-slowly, sliding one hand beneath her thighs and hooking the other one around her waist. The move would jolt her leg and Kinsley already knew the pain would be so hot that there was no way for her brace herself for what was coming. He was moving slowly, obviously scared half to death, so it wasn't hard for Kinsley lean forward into him until her lips nearly brushed against his ear.
"He's going to kill you," Kinsley whispered lightly, "You need to run. As soon as he is distracted, run. Leave me behind. If you stay, we're both dead. You saved my life, now let me save yours." As soon as Kinsley had started whispering, the stranger had gone rigid and still and she could feel his heart hammering against his chest. She pulled back just enough to let her lips graze over his cheek and she made a show of giving him a lingering kiss of the cheek. "Thank you," Kinsley said, this time loud enough for Julian to hear. It wasn't until she rocked back into his arms that he was finally spurred into motion and he gently lifted her. Even though Kinsley knew he was making a great effort not to jostle her, the movement sent excruciating waves of pain up her leg. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and she clenched her teeth, trying her hardest to swallow her screams down.
The walk to the bedroom felt like it took years. The pain hadn't felt like it had dimmed in the slightest but the motion of being set on the bed reignited it, and she panted as she tried to fight unconsciousness. Kinsley collapsed back onto the pillows, feeling uncomfortably hot. Her skin was red and flushed and she could feel the sweat forming on her skin. It was going to be a goddamn miracle if she survived this and Julian didn't look like the type to play nurse. For all she knew, Julian planned on leaving her in this godforsaken cabin to die all over again.
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Post by Val on Aug 13, 2020 22:38:01 GMT
Julian didn't miss a single beat. His eyes followed every move, every touch that passed between the two of them as the man prepared to lift Kinsley. Her oh-so-innocent smile was nearly infuriating enough to make him snap and drive the the machete into their pawn's skull, but he restrained himself. Each time he resisted his instincts, the pain in his head amplified, this time causing the cut on his forehead to throb with a vengeance. He reached up to touch his finger tips to the wound, becoming paranoid that the minor injury had jostled something loose in his brain. Unlike Kinsley, he didn't handle pain well. It threw off his carefully balanced state of mind and made him agitated beyond reason.
He tried to listen in as Kinsley whispered what was sure to be manipulative lies in the fool's ear, but was left guessing as he attempted to read her lips. Whatever her aim was, Julian was confident that the fear he had instilled in his victim was enough to ensure compliance, but he was prepared to nip any sort of insubordination in the butt if their little friend got any brave ideas. The kiss on the cheek was the metaphorical cherry on top and Julian knew in that moment that he wasn't going to hold back.
Standing like a statue against the wall, he waited until the two had passed through the threshold of the bedroom to set in motion. He followed their trail and stopped in the doorway, leaning with his forearms against either side of the of the opening to make a show of blocking the only exit. He reveled in the agonizing pain that Kinsley was going through, deciding that she deserved it for making him come all the way back here and than disrespecting him after all he had done for her. Julian would not be satisfied until the "thank you" that fell from her lips was directed at him.
Once he had placed Kinsley safely on the bed, he could see the man's shoulders tense, as though he was preparing himself for something. Julian narrowed his eyes and braced himself in the doorway, anticipating whatever sort of retaliation the idiot had in mind. The man whipped around to face the door, but the color drained from his face when he laid eyes on Julian, still armed with the meat cleaver, who offered a cruel smirk. Kinsley might've been a manipulative little bitch, but that didn't mean she could grant men the bravery necessary to follow through on her deeds.
"I'm going to be honest with you, because you deserve it after what you've been through," he told the man, mimicking some semblance of empathy, "I'm not going to kill you," he stated, his eyes trailing toward Kinsley, "She is." The declaration was matter of fact and left no room for questions. "Unless, of course, you convince her otherwise," he shrugged, as though the decision was out of his hands. He didn't feel the need to explain that Kinsley was just as cold blooded as he was- that would only ruin the game.
His eyes, still locked on Kinsley, darkened suddenly to signify that he was capable of making her day a whole lot worse. "You see, my lady is an insatiable whore. She told me about one of her fantasies, and how much she wants to thank you for taking care of her while I was gone. I got to thinking...what kind of man would I be if I denied her such pleasures?" He allowed a long stretch of silence to pass between them, making sure they both felt the weight of his next words, "Take your clothes off," he demanded, his eyes emotionless voids as he stared at the unfortunate victim of their sick competition.
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Post by starrea on Aug 14, 2020 0:56:55 GMT
The gravity of Julian's words didn't hit her all at once. For a moment, his unsettling words were enough to completely distract Kinsley from the infinite pain and she just stared at Julian, replaying his words over and over in her head. The request was so bizarre and abrupt that it took Kinsley a minute for the reality of what Julian wanted to happen to sink in. Whatever anger Kinsley had been harboring just minutes before paled in comparison to the rage she was now nursing. Her fingers curled into fists so tight that her knuckles were white and she felt trapped by her inability to bash Julian's skull in like he so rightly deserved. The only thing that was still working in her favor was that Julian truly was lying; Kinsley hadn't really cared if the stranger lived or died beforehand, but now that Julian tried to turn the stranger against her, Kinsley wanted to ensure his survival if only solely for the reason that it would royally piss Julian off.
Kinsley scoffed, not shifting her nearly-lethal glare from Julian, "I don't think I'm in any position to be killing anyone, don't you think? I don't think the doctor would suggest that kind of exertion after such a trying procedure." Kinsley drawled, her words sharp as knives. She didn't stop there, "Anyways, I think the only thing I told you was to fuck off." She paused dramatically, letting him fully appreciate the insult for what it was, before she kept going. Julian was obviously in pain and barely had a handle on his anger. If Kinsley could trigger him enough to get him to charge her, the stranger had a chance to slip out. "Why aren't you more grateful that someone was here to take care of me? I mean, without him, I could have died." She turned her attention away from Julian, her expression softening as she looked at the stranger, "You're my hero, and I owe everything to you."
The stranger looked like he was about to piss himself from fear and Kinsley silently hoped that when he had the opportunity to run, he would take it. He was sickly pale and sweaty from fear, eyes flicking between Kinsley and Julian warily as he undoubtedly tried to figure out the connection between them. Kinsley wasn't concerned with him figuring out that her and Julian knew each other; Julian was still the knife-wielding maniac who had hacked off her foot and she was still purely a victim. He didn't move to take his clothes off, which made Kinsley weak with relief. She wasn't even entirely sure what point Julian was trying to prove, but she would rather kill herself that partake in whatever sick vision Julian had. Whatever happened, Kinsley knew that it ended with the stranger's death and not by her hand. By this point, she deduced that Julian hadn't come all this way back to immediately kill her and she was unconcerned with whatever back-up plan Julian had for her. All she needed to do was give the stranger a chance to run; either he would get away, or Julian would be forced to kill him. Either way, it ended his participation in this sick little fantasy.
When Kinsley looked back at Julian, her expression was noticeably softer and apprehensive. The request still hung in the air between the three of them like a thick smoke, making it uncomfortable to even breathe.
"Julian," Kinsley started out slowly, "will you please stop this if I apologize? I'm sorry, okay?" Kinsley murmured, the words easily slipping out. The lie was seamless and she doubted Julian would even believe it, but she was hoping that the apology and the antagonizing comments were enough to draw him away from the door. "Please, I need something for the pain. Please Julian," Kinsley shamelessly added, but was already prepared to be left unsatisfied. Her eyes flicked back to the stranger's and she held his gaze for a moment, hoping that he understood what she was doing. He gave her the slightest of nods, one so small that Kinsley wasn't entirely sure it wasn't just an involuntary tick, and she hoped he was prepared to run because his life depended on it.
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Post by Val on Aug 15, 2020 2:07:32 GMT
She thought he was stupid. That was the only possible explanation as to why Kinsley was going to such great lengths to antagonize him. She thought he was a fucking imbecile. The entire display made him sick as she played the fine line between victim and crazy bitch. She thought he was such a mindless animal that he would fall for her taunts and what- kill the man? His eyes shifted toward their victim who reeked of fear at this point. The seconds ticked by as he waited for the man to strip, and Julian was completely prepared to ignore every word Kinsley had uttered. But then, he saw it. The nod that passed between them. Kinsley had convinced him. The fool was on her side, and wasn't going to heed Julian's demand. Not even fear was enough to control the situation. Julian was beyond the point of jealousy; now, he felt humiliated.
His grip tightened on the meat cleaver until his knuckles turned white. His entire body stilled and the ringing picked up in his ears again as he stared down the man in the center of the room like a predator that was about to pounce. He imagined hacking his blade into the side of the man's neck so deep that his head dangled on by a thread.
Please Julian.
He heard his name fall from Kinsley's lips and it reminded him that his rage was being misdirected at the innocent man. It was Kinsley that was driving him to madness. It was her fault. Everything was her fault. His eyes shifted toward his new victim and the edges of his vision blurred until the other man in the room no longer existed. He started forward, crossing the room in three long steps until he reached the edge of the bed. He loomed over Kinsely, his eyes disturbingly void as he dropped the cleaver to the floor and kicked it under the bed. He wouldn't be needing that. Swinging a leg over Kinsley's body, he straddled her torso and pinned her hands down beneath his knees. She was so weak- too weak to stop him from manipulating her body. He reached out his hands and wrapped them around her neck, feeling how hot and sweaty her skin was. He began to squeeze- tighter, tighter, tighter- until her body became frantic with the need for oxygen and her lips began to turn blue. The entire time, he held her gaze, refusing to blink and miss a second of the panic and fear that would inevitably fill her eyes.
And then he stopped. He didn't remember stopping. Nothing in particular stopped him. He just...stopped. He blinked rapidly and sucked in several deep breaths of air as the full extent of his vision returned. His ears were still ringing, to the point where he couldn't even hear the sounds that Kinsley was making. She was still alive- he could see that- but it didn't make sense to him. Everything in his world felt disturbingly off balance.
He slowly rolled off of Kinsley and stood up, turning to find the room empty. The man was gone. He just...left, and Julian realized the grave mistake that he had made. They were fucking doomed. Feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety crash over him, he stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Immediately, he was faced with his own image in the mirror- deranged looking and covered in blood. He began to hyperventilate and moved around the room, turning on all of the available faucets until the sound of rushing water filled the room. He wet his hands in the sink and began to scrub the blood off of his face. He tore his clothes off and climbed into the tub, continuing to scrub his skin until the blood was long washed away and his skin felt raw.
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Post by starrea on Aug 17, 2020 23:39:26 GMT
Kinsley watched Julian's slow spiral down until he was nothing more than his primitive, animalistic desires. It was almost pathetic how little it took to manipulate him; even though she knew that at least part of him realized what she was doing, he was powerless against his rage to stop himself from giving her exactly what she wanted. Kinsley recognized the precise moment Julian lost himself to whatever darkness lurked within him and something in the room shifted. Julian was no longer Julian; instead, he was a beast, an apex predator, and he was done playing with his prey. For a long second, Kinsley truly thought that Julian was going to embed the cleaver into the stranger's head in the very fashion he had done with the axe and poor Derek and Kinsley almost forgot about the fact that he had just lobbed her foot off like a piece of rotten meat. As someone who could appreciate the beauty in the beast Julian had become, Kinsley became lost in a a trance of just admiring the blood-splattered, cleaver-wielding monstrosity in front of her - until his gaze shifted to her.
As soon as their eyes locked, Kinsley knew that he was coming for her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. Just like everything else that had happened to her in the past day or so, Kinsley knew she was fucked. She barely had time to contemplate her fate because it took Julian less than five seconds to descend upon her. She didn't bother to try and fight him but he pinned her hands down with his knees and anchored her body to the bed with his weight. She held his stare as he looked down at her. If he wanted fear from her, he wasn't going to get it easily.
Kinsley didn't notice Julian drop the cleaver but it wasn't in either of his hands as he wrapped them around her throat. She was slightly surprised that he wasn't going to just hack away at her until she was horribly unrecognizable mess of blood and meat, and the more intimate form of execution made her heart skip a beat. His hands wasted no time in slowly constricting and Kinsley gasped as it became harder and harder to get air to her lungs. The thing about strangulation was that whether she wanted to or not, her body descended into panic regardless. Her gasps slowly turned silent as he squeezed harder and she started to thrash beneath him. Her attempts were feeble at best; she was weak to begin with and a mere shadow in comparison to Julian. Her lungs started to burn, so much so that the pain in her foot faded away until it was hardly even existed. Her lips opened in some sort of silent plea for mercy that she knew Julian was incapable of. The entire time, she didn't look away. She watched Julian concentrate as he slowly killed her, watched him as he watched her die, and wondered if she looked just as beautiful as she did when taking a life.
The burning in her lungs stopped. In fact, all of her pain ceased to exist. Julian was above her, the light bouncing off to make some sort of crude halo. She wanted to reach out and touch him where the light fused with his skin but she couldn't move beneath his heaviness. She felt lighter than she ever had before, so light that without his weight, she was bound to just float away. Julian's face started to get hazy and Kinsley finally felt a surge of panic; she didn't want to look away. But she didn't have a choice because the blackness was coming for her and it took her by storm. She tried to fight it but she was just one person fighting a force of nature so she finally let go and slipped into the void. Blackness shrouded her and the world, and Julian, disappeared.
With a sharp gasp of air, Kinsley awoke. There had been no preamble, no prologue, nothing in between from when she had succumbed to the darkness to now. She looked around but there was no one of top of her, no one slowly crushing her throat beneath their hands and no one watching from the sidelines. The room was empty. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious and she had no idea why Julian had let go before she had a chance to truly pass. It couldn't have been a mistake because Kinsley was sure that Julian hardly ever made mistakes and leaving her alive was surely not one of them. She raised a tentative hand to her throat and pressed on the delicate skin, flinching at the soreness beneath her fingertips. She didn't need a mirror to confirm the dark blue and black hand-shaped necklace she would be wearing for at least a week or two.
"Julian?" Kinsley croaked, flinching at the way her voice came out. The house was still and quiet and Kinsley briefly wondered if both men had abandoned her. She should have been calling out for the stranger, the one who had tried to save her, but she called out for the one who tried to kill her.
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Post by Val on Aug 19, 2020 3:43:28 GMT
Julian had forgotten how much he missed being alone. Alone in the sense of complete privacy- no noises down the hall, no disturbed neighbors, no guards to peer through the bars at will- just silence. It allowed him to completely recenter himself. Prison had clearly done a number on him and he had come to the realization that he was a changed man; perhaps not for the better. He seemed to have lost some of the self control that he'd so carefully maintained in his early life. Now, he'd become reckless and desperate at the slightest taste of freedom. It wasn't a good look for him. It was unacceptable.
Dark eyes flashed open as a faint voice sounded from the other side of the bathroom door. The illusion of solitude suddenly vanished, but Julian didn't react. Rather, he knew it was time to move on. He'd wasted far too much time recovering from the full blown panic attack, to the point where the sun had begun to set and cast rays of golden light across the bathroom floor. Their little friend had surely gone and squealed to authorities by now, and their time was running out. By now, he'd left Kinsley for hours and had begun to wonder if she had died after all, but the sound of her voice answered that question.
As Julian became reanimated, he took a moment to gather himself and take in his surroundings after being stuck drifting in a state of limbo for so long. He was naked in the empty bathtub. He must've drained the water out some time ago, and was left sitting against the cold, hard porcelain. His skin was red and stiff from the intense scrubbing he'd done, but his limbs felt fluid and refreshed, like he'd just received a massage. Pushing himself up, he stepped out of the tub and avoided looking in the mirror altogether. Despite his massive ego, he didn't like to look at himself, especially in his current state. Since he was already dry, he didn't even bother to grab a towel to cover up as he reached for the door handle.
Julian stepped back into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to stare at Kinsley for a long moment and take in the scene he had left behind. It was disturbing, to say the least, but oddly calm now that things had settled. He was acutely aware that he was naked in the dim light that filled the room, but it didn't matter anymore. He'd exposed himself far deeper than something as superficial as a nude body; he practically cut his own soul out and bared it to her. She'd witnessed his darkness first hand, and she had watched him fail. And that made him feel vulnerable.
Wordlessly, he moved around the room and dressed himself slowly in dark pants and a soft flannel shirt, which were bearable against his raw skin. Still not addressing her, he floated out of the room and returned a few minutes later with fresh water. He approached Kinsely's bedside and tipped the canteen of water against his lips, chugging down half of its contents before he placed it on the bed beside Kinsely as offering. It was then that he noticed the dark, beautifully symmetrical hand prints that had formed around her neck, like a collar that she couldn't remove. His tongue drew across his lips to catch the remaining water as he regarded his work with appreciation.
"Looks like we've found ourselves in a bit of a situation," he voiced their predicament out loud, cutting right to the chase. The calmness in his voice made it clear that he didn't feel the need to address what had happened between them- not yet, anyway. He turned away and paced slowly across the room, then back again- three steps each ways. The gears in his head started turning as he thought to himself, but one thing remained clear- he was still including Kinsley in his plans. After several laps back and forth across the room, Julian was struggling to come up with a solution, and the creak of the floor was started to irritate him. Every second step, the floor creaked, right under the rug that covered the center of the room. One, two, three. Julian narrowed his eyes and stopped over the rug, pressing down on it to achieve the same bothersome noise. Lifting his foot, he slammed it back down against the wood floors. Hollow.
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