FicWad

Yay! I'm back! lol, not like you missed me or anything. So you don't get mad at me and threaten to hunt me down and set my house and fire, there are certain parts in the story that are RYAN'S point of view NOT MINE. I'm not gonna say which part it is though. You have to read it to find out. hahaha. I'm not even gonna lie to you though, there's like a huge chunk in it thats hella boring but important nonetheless so if you skim over it, i guess i won't feel bad. watever.

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No longer have I slept in my own bed.
It was always with Brendon.
On the blanket I threw on the floor.

I can't take any chances any more and I can't let my lover drift away.
Killing two birds with one stone you see.

But one of those birds dodge my stone. It bobs and weaves and as soon as the missile is long thrown and has fell to the floor with a indolent thump, it flies away like a little bitch.

Meaning: While I'm "sleeping" I overhear plans. Escape plans.

Is his goal to set off an atomic bomb in my chest cavity?

I record.
Every scheme, every idea, every hopeful giggle, and every detrimental comment.

Now I use it to my advantage.

You want to steal a tool from my bag to break the window, shimmy down the water spout and run for help?

I steal a tool from my bag to break your kneecap, shimmy down the stairs, and listen to your cries for help.
Looks like there's no shimmying and looks like no one's coming to help you.

You want to use her as a distraction as soon as I unlock and open your door so you can hobble off seeing as I smashed your kneecap?

I "fall" for it and the second you get up I greet you with a blow to the gut with a baseball bat.

See, it's all fair game.

But on to you.
You think I'm crazy?
You think chasing after something that you want is called "crazy"?
Yeah, but when Oprah or some other rich motherfucker does it it's called "Inspirational".
Really, go somewhere with that fresh, piping hot, tub of bull shit.
I'm not crazy.
Just determined.
But now I'm questioning your motives.
I tell you everything that only one other person knows about, I let you in and you insult me?
Now you're gonna tell me that you feel sorry for Brendon and her.
Now... you're gonna try to put me away like Brendon said!
But wait.
I don't think you'd do that, would you?
You're smart.
You know what I'm capable of.
You know what you're not capable of.
And guess what, so do I.
Yes sweetie, that was a threat.

So pick.
Do you want to shut the fuck up, shove those insults up your ass, and enjoy the show?
Or do you want to be a part of it?

I think you know the right decision.

Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yes, Brendon.
I would've got the vibe that he ... doesn't love me but I can see right through his little plan.

Skim through my blueprints.

Question: Why does he tell her to shut up more than I do?
Answer: Because he doesn't like to see his new fiance angry.

Question: Why does he always do things that get him hurt?
Answer: Pain turns him on.

Question: Why does he scream "no" or "stop" whenever I touch him?
Answer: He's playing hard to get.

Question: Why is he always the one to leave in his "escape plans"?
Answer: Because I'll be left with her and I'll take out my frustrations on anyone around.

So there are the basics.

Now the apples of the branches.

Question: Why does he want me to deal with her?
Answer: Because he's not very well at breaking up.

Question: Why does he want to break up with her?
Answer: Because there's only room for one person in his life.

Question: How can I make it that she's no longer around and me and Brendon are together forever?
Answer: Do her in.

And there you have it.
The reason Brendon is acting the way he is, is because he wants me to kill Aymi.
He always did love riddles.
And so do I.




I unlock the door to her room, and bag in hand, I step in. She's laying on her side making loud noises as she struggles to breathe.

I close the door and approach her, sitting down in front of her.
She doesn't move.
Her eyes, open but glazed over.
I stretch my legs out and gently pick up her head, resting it in my lap I affectionately stroke her blood matted hair.

"Br....Brendon?"
She whispers. Her head turning slightly in the direction of my face.
"Nope."
I whisper back.
She whimpers.

"No, no, it's okay. Don't cry. I just want to talk to you."
She wiggles in her silver jacket.
"Do you want to talk to me?"
Slowly she nods yes.
"Good."

"Now," I begin twirling her hair between my fingers, "I suppose you first want to know a couple things right?"
Another slow nod.
"Okay, ask me some question and I'll answer them."

She doesn't say anything. Just stares at the wall.
I poke her cheek and she jumps.

"Our parents?"
She says so softly I have to lean in to hear her.
"They think you've eloped and went off to the Bahamas for your honeymoon. So no one's gonna look for you."
As if stunned by my answer she continues.

"Why?"
"I'll save that for later."

"Brendon?"
"He's alive."

I look down at her abruptly as I feel something burn holes in my jeans and irritate my skin.
Tears fall from her eyes and land on my thigh.

"I said don't cry."
"Sorry." She says as I wipe away her tears.
She clears her throat.
"Anything else?"

"All my questions are your answers."
Well that's cryptical.

"Let's start from the begin from before we met you."
I remove one of my hands from her hair and to my bag.

"Two years ago, Brendon was almost mine. Flirting, touching, kissing, all that crap and then one day he asked me to go out with him. I-"
I stop.
Too many heart-wrenching memories.
I take a deep breath.
Then another.
I count how many times I repeat this.
Thirteen.

The only thing that brings me back is the feeling of her turning in my lap.
Looking down, I see her blue eyes staring up at mine.
Blue eyes of...compassion and understanding?

xTrust no one.

Unaware of the movement of my hand, I tighten my fingers together and feel a warm liquid rush between my fingers.

I raise the knife to her chest and I feel her tense up.

Continuing on, I begin to cut the duct tape that was messily wrapped around her.

"He asked me to go out with him and I didn't answer. Just stared. He took it as a no," I managed to get out, my voice lowering with each word.

I continue when all the duct tape was scattered across the floor.

"I was still coping with the fact that he never touched me or looked at me or spoke to me when you came along while we were on tour."
She stretches out her legs and I hear her bones crack.

"You and Brendon started talking and laughing. I didn't think anything of it because I figured you were just another groupie we'd leave behind and never see again."
I look down at her to make sure she's following.
She was.
The look in her eyes, depicting a flashback in her head.

"Then I wake up one day and you're snuggled up with Brendon... Getting closer by the hour. Once again, I thought nothing of it. Then there was that one night.... I heard... moans, and thumps, and squeaking. Right above me."

Looking down again her face turns bright red.

"Still thought nothing of it. Thought it was another one of his meaningless fucks."
Tears threaten to fall from my eyes.

Meaningless fucks I know plenty about.

"Then Brendon has a girlfriend. And then I hate you. So I try to get rid of you."

This gets me that look of confusion that I've seen on her face a lot lately.

"Start telling people things to get them talking, I put my razors in your bag and knocked it over so he would find it. What else? Um... paid my cousin $20 to text nasty things to your phone, sprayed my cologne on your clothes, put dirty condom in you and Brendon's bunk, and I told him you hit on me. But that's just a couple of things."

Her face: priceless.
Pure shock.

"You did that," she squeaks.
"Yep," I reply with a giggle.

"You guys start arguing and it was bliss. 'You fucking whore', 'Shut the hell up, you don't know me', 'I shouldn't picked you up', 'You were a total mistake'. Oh, I remember them vividly."
My grin goes upside-down.

"Then you made up. And closer you got. And then that's when I stopped eating, talking, and started getting sick. After a while I couldn't take it and I said, that if I cant drive you away I should just kill you."

Her eyes opened real wide on that one.

"You're killing me?"
She says tears falling again.
"I think you already knew that. Probably didn't want to admit it."

Loud sobs emit from her mouth.

But I must admit.
It was nice talking to her.
Telling her these things.
She did something else to me though.
She made me feel regret.

"You know," I said as her sobs softened.
"I've learned many things over the course of the year."
She sniffs.

"I learned that I'm a sucker for love. And that I'm willing to do anything for it. Learned that, I'm not as apathetic as I thought. Still don't care what others think though. Also, I'm surprised to see how sadistic I am. Your screams...they...bring me joy. Kinda like how you learn your grandma's dead and you want to do something to make yourself feel better. That something for me is torture."

There goes that shocked look again.

"I learned that now, there's no going back for what I did. So why stop now."

I take a deep breath and grab the knife that lay next to me and plunged it deep into her chest.

It made a strange squishing sound.

I like that sound.
So I did it again.
And again.
I count how many times.
Eleven.

Odd enough, she doesn't move. Just stayed there squeaking over and over. She made no effort to stop me. Like...she was accepting this.

I kept going.
Attacking spots around the first stab wound. Only stopping occasionally to pull the knife out from where it lodged itself in her ribcage.

Now I look down at her.
Her eyes slightly open.
Blood, drowning the both of us.

"Aymi?"
A she moans as a bubble of blood blows up and pops against her lips.
"Wow. Still alive, huh? You're a trooper!" I say flicking her nose.
"Any last words."
"Tell.... Brenny I..... love him." She whispers, blood gurgling in the back of her throat.
"Not a chance."
"Then.. tell me I'll go with my dignity intact." Now I can barely understand her. Too many gurgles.
I look deep into her the two, now pale blue, puffy slits I've reduced her once vivid dark ones to.
I lean over so my lips are touching her ear and take another breath. I chuckle as she makes the most pitiful sound I've ever heard from a human.

Making sure my words are crisp and clear, I whisper softly.

"And another thing I learned during the last year,"
I feel her shudder against my body as I pull her helix piercing roughly with my teeth.


"I'm a necropheliac."