♥Brody Cunningham♥
α Nathan Duarte Ω
1/1/15
#Resolutions
It was late on New Years day. Most would either be partaking in drunken debauchery part two, or sleeping off the consequences of part one. Either way, there wasn’t a chance in hell that anybody would be lurking around a dump like Edison High.
...well, mostly.
Out of the shadow lent by the nearby tree affectionately referred to as “The Makeout Tree” due to an incident involving a substitute teacher, strolled young Nathan Duarte. He approached the maintenance door to the kitchen dripping with confidence, as if he were the sole reason the door existed. It should be honored by his presence. Then the “quiet” and “responsible” young man knelt down, pulling out two metal objects from a pocket, moving his hands quickly to get the tension wrench and pick rake into the lock. The “never-do-wrong model student” fiddled with the lock for several minutes before his patience finally left him.
Was his plan really going to end right there and then?
Nathan could feel his anger starting to swell up in his chest. This was utter bullshit. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult. He was supposed to make a few movements with the lockpicks, and badda boom, he’d be in.
Well, whatever. Time to improvise. Near the door was a brick that the kitchen staff would use to prop open the door during the warmer days. Nathan could have laughed. Fucking idiots had just handed him the golden key. He swiped the brick and looked about. There was a large floor to ceiling window just a few feet down the school. He could get in that way...but should he?
...duh.
Nathan strolled down to the open hallway, and using the brick, picked the invisible lock holding the glass together. He scrambled in, nearly poking out his eye on a shard of glass still stuck to the frame. It was close, but no cigar. It’d take much more to take down Nathan Duarte.
Little Nathan Duarte. Fifteen. Freshman. Just another face in the crowd, another nobody adrift a sea of nothings. An impish smile fought it’s way to his face. Those rubes were just so fucking gullible. They had no idea that a God walked amongst them, the universe in flesh. It sickened Nathan to see them turn their noses up. If they had even the slightest inkling of the true greatness...but it had to be done. This was a test. The people had to prove their worth….
He peered around the lockers at the end of the hall. First right, then left. Empty. Of course. He was meant to do this. It was his destiny. It was so fucking obvious that is practically hurt. He turned at the stairs and climbed. Up to the second floor. He checked the hall before leaving the landing...but it was clear. As it would have to be.
They failed of course. The people, that is.
So why was God himself still strolling through a dump like Edison High? After all, the inhabitants had proven to be a waste of both his time and his love. No, dear audience, you see, you miss the obvious. It is BECAUSE they have wasted his time that Nathan had stuck around. They had to be punished. And yes, he could just wave his hand and smite the blasphemers, but what would that do? It would be deemed an act of God, unpreventable. No, these fucks had to know that they could have done MORE. So…
Nathan stopped before the second floor out-of-order girl’s bathroom. The foundation of the grand plan. Not that you, dear reader, needed to know wh...actually, on second thought, do listen in. If not smiting, then what would the great Nathan Duarte do to cull his sheep, to deliver unto them a message? Ha, it was so simple. So much so, that he had already heard a couple stories on the news of events like the one he was planning. That event? A good, old-fashioned school shooting. It was so brutally perfect. Little innocent Nathan Duarte, normal in every way, just up and shoots?
It would bring fear back into the hearts of the arrogant men.
So how did the bathroom factor in? Well, easily enough...See, Nathan is not exactly a big man. So carrying a ton of...err...surgical equipment would prove to be a challenge. And on game
day...well...he didn’t want to run out of party favors. Otherwise, they might be...uh...alright, enough of the pretty metaphors. He had guns and ammo he needed to stash, and nobody ever went into the second-floor girl’s bathroom. Not since he had been enrolled. And apparently not even before that. And why? Because the bathroom was
haunted.
Haunted.
Nathan pushed open the door and took a few steps into the dustbowl.
Fuck-a-duck, these people were stupid. There was nothing before Nathan, and nothing after. He was the beginning and the end. It was so simple. So why would they-
WaaaaWhat was that? The door? Damn this place. Couldn’t even properly maintain the fucking doors of all things. It was a joke. They were all jokes. But no one was laughing. A joke needed to be funn-
Waaaa…
Ha…
Haha…
Seriously?
He was seriously hallucinating now?
Hilarious.
Nathan looked about, not expecting anything but...well…
No. Doesn’t matter. He had to find a place for the guns. He couldn’t leave them in the open...the mirror didn’t move...toilets too unreliable...Hmm…Nathan studied the ceiling. Tiles...but...he might just be able to push them up. The ceiling was fairly low, but it might not be low enough. He’d need some leverage. Maybe he co-
WaaaaAlright, that was a bit too...loud. Crying? Was that a woman crying? Nathan smiled. There really was nothing he liked better. So either he really was hallucinating...or he was going to have some fun. His breathing grew a bit ragged, hitching in his throat. Where was it coming from…
Further in the bathroom.
…
Left?
Stall?
One of the stalls.
Nathan moved forward, listening to the stalls, searching for the sobbing.
…
Stall six. Someone was in stall six. Nathan’s hand went to his pocket, touching his pride and joy, a lovely little switchblade, the Negotiator. He heard the sobbing intensify within. His grin grew wide and toothy. He could feel the uh...EXCITEMENT swelling within him. He would make her fear him, whoever she is.
He pushed on the stall door. It...actually opened. He wasn’t expecting that. But, nobody was inside…
…
But he still heard the sobbing. And it was still coming from stall six. But that didn’t make any sense. Nathan entered the stall, approaching the toilet. The wailing continued, seemingly getting louder. It was...it was....
Coming from the toilet? That was ridiculous. Unless somebody dropped a phone or something. Nathan approached the toilet and peered into it.
Nothing.
Just water.
CLEAN water. Err, well, as clean as public restroom toilet water could be. There was nothing out of th-
EYESNathan shot back, looking around. Nothing was there. Just him. But those eyes. He knew what he saw. HE SAW FUCKING EYES. Right behind him. They were clear. They were definitely there. Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth. Eyes. Truth. Tr-
WaaaahIt came from the toilet again. Someone was fucking with him. That had to be it. Someone had DARED to fuck with him? HAD THEY LOST THEIR FUCKING MIND?! Nathan grinded his teeth and approached the toilet again, peering in.
Nothing. No eyes. No phone. No...anything.
Nathan couldn’t help but feel just a touch disappointed. It was just his mind. He was losing it. Yes, he was perfectly aware of that. God must be everywhere, at all times. Sanity has no room in that equation. It was just the hand he was dealt, and dammit, he’d play it.
WaaaahA chill ran up Nathan’s spine.
That came from right behind him.He hesitated.
Then he turned his head.
Or attempted to. Something touched his back and he froze, paralyzed with fear. In the next moment, he was pinned against the wall. He could hear the sobbing. How couldn’t he? It was happening RIGHT by his ear. Then suddenly he found himself sitting on the toilet. Before him was...a girl? He was being overpowered by a girl? A FUCKING GIRL? NO. HELL NO. FUCK THIS CUNT. Rage blinded him, and his arm shot to his pocket to retrieve the switchblade...or it would have, if he could move. But he couldn’t. His mind was screaming the order, but his body had declared mutiny. All he could do was look. And so he did.
And so he regretted it. This thing wasn’t a girl. It wasn’t a person. It shouldn’t even be. But there it was. He was staring up at the face of what might have been a teenage girl once. But the proportions in its face were off. The eyes were bugging out slightly and were off center...but not naturally so. It’s head seemed to taper off at the top, around the crown. The mouth was sunken in. The nose broken. It was crying...and it was smiling. It lacked and upper teeth. And if that’s all it was, Nathan would have been able to just cut up the Deliverance bitch up right then and there and show her what an imbred little cunt got for touching God himself. But sadly it wasn’t so. For at his angle, he could see into her mouth, see the roof. See the large, gaping hole there that went straight through. That tapering at the top? It surely would be the other end. After all of his late night Internet searches into the land of gore and shock, Nathan would recognize a headshot victim anywhere.
There was just one difference.
Headshot victims usually didn’t move.
He tried to speak, but it placed a pale, cold finger against his lips. Then it’s finger traced down his face.
It touched him.
It
felt him.
And then he
felt it.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day
Last we saw Brody, he had found himself lying in a pool of liquids so foul that no number of showers would ever be able wash away. Before continuing with that, it would probably be best to step back a few minutes and watch the scene unfold in all its glory.
So without further ado...
♥Brody Cunningham♥
A Few Moments Earlier
It was odd. Nathan was right. This place was...different. Time felt weird. It felt off. Brody could kept time pretty well, but...watching through the mirror, he noticed that everything seemed to be just slightly out of time. Like everything was just a bit too slow. By how much, he couldn’t tell. But when he would try to count, it got really weird. He knew it was off, but the mirror seemed to...jump to match him.
It was really messing with his head.
Maybe he would have pursued that little train of thought more, but something else caught his eye. Something in one of the stalls. Something that screamed for him to check out. Despite the madness going off around him, Brody felt like he had to go to it.
And so he did. Nathan was staring into the mirror, watching what was going on, speechless. Brody had a bad feeling about this guy. A horrible feeling. But what could he do? He wasn’t about to provoke him. Who knows how long he had been...in here. Brody could already feel his mind wanting to go on permanent vacation. He could only imagine what had happened to the younger boy.
He approached the stall. Stall two. He had caught something inside when the doors flapped. Now they had mostly stopped. Four and six were still freaking out. The rest had calmed. He shot a quick glance at Nathan, just to make sure he was still preoccupied -he was- then he opened the door.
He had thought that he had seen everything he possibly could. He had thought that there was nothing left to fuck with him. He had thought that he could possibly get used to this shit.
He was wrong.
Brody slumped to his knees.
Before him, leaning against the back wall of the stall and propped up by the toilet was a girl- or rather, what was left of one. She was young looking. Maybe thirteen or fourteen. She had her hair in a bit of a pixie style. It might have looked cute on her once but…
She had been skinned. Something had peeled off all of her skin, save for her head. It lay in a pile beside her. She was just muscle and gore. It looked like something had carved out pieces of her legs and belly. And the proof was in the pudding. Or clothing. Her clothing, most likely. The meat was piled up on top of a bunched up skirt and dress shirt. He was reminded of the thing he saw on the ceiling just before. He shuddered, then took another look at her. She was nude, actually. Completely bare- save for one thing. A belt. Wrapped around her neck tightly. He could see where it had dug into her, leaving harsh bruises. Her face was incredibly pale, her lips and cheeks discolored. Brody could spot some dried blood around her mouth.
And- oh god- he could smell her. She was laying in a puddle, with some chunks…Urine and shit? Oh god, oh god, ew. His eyes struggled in the dark but...he saw the unmistakable shape of a human tongue. Right there. Right in the puddle by the pile.
“She’s a real mess, huh?”Brody nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand landed on his shoulder and he heard Nathan’s voice. He was partially to tears again. He shouldn’t have looked. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
“See, I tried to get her to let me lend a hand. I told her it would hurt a whole lot less and go a lot quicker if she did it from higher up.”Wha...what the fuck? Nathan’s grip on his shoulder tightened.
It hurt.
“But the bitch just DIDN’T listen. Ha. Haha. Now look. She’s a fuckin’ mess. Tried to tell her to shit and piss beforehand too, but nope. Fucking retard. Now I’ve gotta deal with that. She went and ruined perfectly good meat. FOR. NO. REASON.”All of the color left Brody.
Meat?
Nathan just referred to that CORPSE as...meat.
…
Oh God, if you’re there…
Oh God…
The boy’s grip moved to Brody’s neck. He hadn’t had a chance to respond. He just felt a push. Then he was sailing. His face was spared from bouncing off the floor though. A nice pile of shit, moistened by blood and piss cushioned the impact. At least he had partially stopped himself from screaming. So instead of having a pile of human waste shoved down his throat, it merely mushed against his front teeth, coating his teeth and sliding into the space between tooth and lip. And it filled up his nose, rather deeply. It clung to his hair, to his eyelashes, to just his face in general. He pushed up, letting the warm filth fall back to the floor.
This was too much. He cou-
Something connected with the back of his head, and Brody’s face was pushed back into the waste. He pushed against the hand, but he was losing. Foulness was smashed against his skin, and his head was rubbed in, smearing the shit even more.
Brody’s mouth opened to vomit. And it almost succeeded. This time with actual vomit! But unfortunately for the lad, he was pushed deeper into the shit. With the mouth clogged, the stomach discharge congregated in his mouth, burning his throat and tongue.
Death couldn’t come soon enough.
α Nathan Duarte Ω
2/15/15
Nathan awoke leaning against the door that never opened.
Odd. He never really got tired. He didn’t HAVE to sleep...but the habit was hard to break. And besides, the more he was asleep, the less he was...here. Wherever here was.
He couldn’t deal at first. The first night was the hardest. He felt so...wrong. He felt so dirty… And there was no cleaning, oh no. Not with these faucets. So he just had to bear it. The loneliness. The darkness. The constant fucking crying and...
BANG!
That. That was rough. There was something different about seeing someone actually die before your eyes. It was...so much better than the videos. The way it all came to an end, the realization of that that would flash before their eyes... Nathan loved it. Sure, it was shocking at first, but he grew used to the constant shooting. Then he became fascinated. There was a beauty that came between life and death. That briefest of moments...Nathan was obsessed with it. So he watched the girl shoot herself, over and over again. Nothing else mattered. Not this room, seemingly out of touch with reality. Not his vanished hunger or thirst. Not his unlimited energy, nor anything.
BANG!
This was his destiny.
This was meant to be.
So he spoke to her. Just little things to start. Asking her about her day. How she was feeling. Why she shot herself. What her dreams were. She never answered, of course. She was too busy, what with the whole suicide thing. So he would tell her about himself. He told her everything.
BANG!
It continued for a while.
No answer. Just gunshots. Nathan was alright with that, though. It gave him something to do besides waste away. And he never did get tired of talking about himself. He loved himself. Though...this thing had been the first to just let him ramble. It never interjected, never told him to shut up…
It loved him. He just knew it. It had to be true.
This day, he would make it true.
Nathan rose from the door and crossed to her stall. She sat there, eating the gun barrel. He looked at her. She looked through him.
“Come on out. I want to see. The REAL you. Not this puppet.”There was no answer...for a while. Then he felt cold, err...colder than normal. He turned, and was standing eye to eye with the thing. It was looking at him, unsure. He smiled, leaned in, and kissed her.
“Who are you?”She never answered, just looked at him through dead eyes. But he knew. Eloise. Her name was Eloise. She hadn’t spoke, but he knew. This was the true extent of the connection between lovers.
“Well, I love you, Eloise.”He kissed her once more.
There was no crying that night. Only love.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day
Brody was rolled over onto his back, to which he responded by promptly spitting, spewing piss, blood, vomit, and shit all over the front of his face and shirt. He might even have had a snarky comment about it now, but well…
A fist to the face kind of stops all of that now, doesn’t it?
Brody’s head snapped back and bounced off the floor. Then another fist, striking his cheek under his left eye. Something cracked a bit there. Oh look, another fist. Second verse, same as the first.
Well, Brody wasn’t exactly a stranger to thoughts of death. He had thought about it often. Sometimes he would take the plunge by himself. Others, he’d be cut up by some skinhead for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this? Being pummelled to death in a pool of some girl’s wastes and his own fluids? By a Freshman? In a nightmarish hellscape? Not exactly in his top five ways to go.
He could feel his consciousness start to slip. He could just give in. Let it all go. After all, what was the worst that could happen?
He almost did, but something happened.
A voice ripped through the air, screaming bloody murder. The room flashed red. Three crimson eyes opened on the ceiling and stared down at the boys. A mouth split the tiles, revealing rotten teeth. It pulled back it’s artificial lips and screamed, joining in with the first voice.
Then everything started to...well...crumble away. The stall’s walls sagged, then collapsed into nothing. As did the sinks, the toilets, the walls, the door, the everything. Except for the mirror, which had at some point faded to solid black. He could see all of this because Nathan had gotten off him. He was covering his ears, looking around wildly.
Then he started screaming.
He was screaming for somebody.
Somebody called Eloise.
α Nathan Duarte Ω
4/13/15
He was just inches from her face. If it were not for the mirror, he could just touch her…
Nathan looked into the girl’s eyes. Julia Parker, as he lived and breathed. Of course he knew her. She was pretty popular amongst his classmates. He lifted a hand and touched the mirror. She was...perfect. The perfect victim.
He smiled widely, madly.
Behind the girl stood Eloise. She looked at Nathan through the mirror. Julia leaned forward, checking out a spot on her face. He nodded. Eloise clenched the girl by the throat and threw her to the ground. Then she screamed right into the Senior’s face.
Well, it was rough, but it wouldn’t do to just push her in. She had to be scared. If the plan was to work, she had to be fucking terrified.
And what was that plan?
He simply grinned. In the following few moments, Nathan got to watch his beloved do what she did best: Be herself.
Eloise bashed the girl’s head against the floor, a sink, and a faucet before finally dragging her into the mirror.
He hid. She had to feel alone.
Check.
Then she had to get scared.
He heard a whimper. Check.
Then she had to wander to the only open stall and-
A bloodcurdling scream pierced his ears. Another one met hers before a gunshot silenced it. It looked like Eloise was going to get into this one. He smiled. It was difficult to convince her to go along with this. But he got his way eventually. He always got his way. God would not be denied. God could not be denied. Eloise knew this. Or else.
He took a deep breath, cleared his face, then rushed to the stall. He rushed to the girl’s side, cradling her head. She had fallen to her bum and was shaking rather violently whilst rocking back and forth. She was muttering something. Nathan hushed her, trying to soothe her with soft words. He held her tight. He could feel Eloise watching them, disapproving, but she would have to deal with it. This was the plan.
Besides, Eloise was his OTP. She was perfect. God’s lover. No pathetic girl could get between something like that. Nathan’s grin broke out again. Julia never saw it. She just buried her face into the stranger.
It would be alright, he would tell her.
For him, at least. That he might not say.
α Nathan Duarte Ω
4/30/15
FUCK.
FUCK.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.
Julia Parker. FUCK HER. FUCK THAT CUNT.
Nathan sat watching her sleep. He was burning with anger. With rage. He considered himself a patient man but...but this bitch…
SHE WOULDN’T FUCKING BUDGE. SHE WOULDN’T FUCKING BEND. HOW DO YOU BREAK THAT?!!
It wasn’t fair. He was good at this. Nathan sat back and thought of his own mother. She had been...well, rather depressed in the months leading up to her death. Father had fucked off with a younger, prettier, happier woman. And Mother just sat in bed. All day. Every day. Wasting the fuck away. Except, she would sometimes call him in and chat. It was always about how everyone else had wronged her. How she felt so betrayed. By her family, by her friends. Everyone was out to get her. It was so fucking annoying. But she didn’t care. She would just constantly confide in him. And sometimes he would give her advice or his opinion. But…
But he was just so sick of this bullshit. All he wanted was to go do literally anything else. This cunt wasn’t worth his time. He was GOD, and she a lowly whore. So he let her know. Not all at once, of course. No, he fed it to her. Piece by piece. That maybe her friends had left for a reason. That maybe her family calling her crazy and worthless, well, maybe they were on to something. That maybe the world would be better off without her. That maybe then she could have her peace. That he wouldn’t blame her if anything were to happen.
Of course, that last part was just the topping. And not a lie, really. He wouldn’t blame her if she offered herself. He’d do the same if he was as useless and pathetic as she. Hell, he was half tempted to do it for her, but no. Patient.
And then one day she took some pills, went to sleep, and never woke up.
And it was glorious. So fucking glorious. The rush of victory…
AND THIS FUCKING WHORE WAS DENYING HIM THAT. WOULDN’T EVEN GIVE HIM THE ONE THING HE LOVED MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD. SELFISH SLUT.
…
No matter then. He’d just have to take it by force. He could feel his ‘excitement’ rising again.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the switchblade. He approached her quietly, slowly. As he grew closer, he hit the button, exposing the blade. Just as he leaned down by her, the girl stirred, losing a great yawn. She focused her eyes on his face and gave him a smile. She thought he was a really sweet guy with how he took care of he-
He stabbed the broad right in the fucking eye. It took a moment to register what had happened with Julia, and by the time it did, he had already pulled out the knife and stabbed the other eye.
She screamed. She flailed. She was held down.
Nathan looked up at Eloise, who was just hovering beside him, watching him. He smiled at her, then took his knife and sliced a piece of the girl’s arm off from just below the elbow to the wrist. She screamed bloody murder the entire time. Nathan just laughed. Then he carved off another piece. And another. And another. It continued for hours, or at least, what might have been hours. Time was fucked, man. Julia must have passed out sometime during the impromptu Thanksgiving. Or maybe she died. It didn’t matter. Nathan sliced her throat at that point. It was now a mute point. Bitch was either dead or was going to BE dead. He won either way. Eloise locked on to something unseen in the room, and tore into it, eating greedily. Nathan lost his shit at that point. Excitement burst. He was right. Eloise, really was a ghost. And it seemed that she could eat other ghosts.
Logic would propose that she would gain strength by feeding. He had asked her once why she never left the bathroom. She just couldn’t. She was bound to her place of death. It was Nathan’s thinking that by growing stronger, she would be able to travel farther. Thus reaching more people. Thus handing Nathan the perfect gun: a vindictive ghost girl wrapped around his finger. His wrath would be that much greater. Men would bow to his strength, he who rules the grave.
And what a perfect plan, that is, until about a week later.
He was just minding his own business, sleeping, when something attacked him.
HIM.
Something laid its filthy paws upon HIM.
THE GODDAMN NERVE OF IT.
He awoke to choking.
By Julia. Or a twisted remnant of her. It was lacking eyes, and had a smile like grin on its neck...and was missing its skin, but…
But it didn’t work quick enough. Before it could so much as bruise him, Eloise was on it. She extended her jaw and bit into the neck, ripping out a chunk and scarfing it down. Then she did it again. And again. She ended up pinning it to the ground and devouring it. It made no sense to Nathan. She should have already been consumed. She was destroyed. Eloise had made sure of it. Unless…
He had read once, and only once, for it was stupid fucking book, that in order to rid oneself of a ghost, was to destroy the ghost’s body, or that which binded it to the realm of the living. Again, horribly stupid, but it might be worth a shot. Nathan returned to her corpse and tried to figure out what to do. He couldn’t build a fire, and there wasn’t a way to bury the body. There was only he and a knife.
…
Nathan looked at the girl with the mutilated arms.
Would it be considered cannibalism for a God to devour a sheep?
He grabbed one of the bloody chunks he had removed from her a while back. He looked at it and...bit into it.
…
It was somehow still warm. Thank God for small miracles. It was still warm. He took another bite. He had heard man tasted like chicken before…
They were right.
Fucking great chicken.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day
Falling. He had been falling into unconsciousness. Now he was just falling. Falling.
Brody was falling. Into nothingness. But it was wrong. There was no air, no wind...he was just moving.
He looked around, and saw that Nathan was falling too. He looked terrified.
He looked mad.
But when Brody flipped to face down(?), he saw something faint in the distance. Something...red? He pulled his jacket up to his face and wiped using the inside. He couldn’t get it all...but he got some of it. Compared to the alternative? He’d take it.
…
Besides, Nathan’s fists managed to clear some of the shit…
The faint red speck grew. Quickly. It was a...a road? A path? He hit the ground, but there was no thud. There was no impact. And when he really concentrated on it, it seemed to disappear. So Brody turned over to Nathan instead. The boy was laying on his belly, but he climbed up to his feet rapidly. He looked around.
“Wha...what the...YOU?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!”Before Brody could even move to answer, Nathan was on him again, pulled back to punch. But a punching bag Brody would be no longer. When Nathan loosed his first fist, he grabbed it, and struggled with the boy, managing to push him over and mounted him. Brody yelled, and threw a punch. Then another. God it felt great. He threw another. Fuck this monster. FUCK HIM.
He threw one more punch. Nathan caught it, the punched Brody in the throat. The fabulous one started coughing and rolled over. Nathan got to his feet and squared up. He kicked Brody, landing one on the hip. It fucking hurt.
But he stopped suddenly, gazing off in the distance. Brody couldn’t help it, he followed the gaze.
There was mirror. It was really far away, but it was there. But that wasn’t the weird thing.
There was a crack.
And there was light pouring through the crack.
α Nathan Duarte Ω
8/29/15
It took a while to get rid of the body. The meat went down fine. Bones weren’t as easy. Hair was...blargh.
But he did it. Completely. He had eaten another human being. Except for the skull, but...well, he hadn’t seen the ghost again, so it was good enough. He had Eloise hold off on grabbing another victim. A half eaten person would...raise questions. Questions he would have rather not answered.
But damn it, it was done. So now it was time for another. He still wasn’t content with how things went down. She had STOLEN from him. His pleasure? Gone. Poof. Because she was a cunt. Fuck her. Fuck everything, but mostly fuck her.
Fuck fu-
The door in the mirror opened. And a very petite girl marched in. Perfect.
He reached out to Eloise. She didn’t hesitate. Just left Nathan’s side and crawled into the mirror. The girl was bawling. Perfect. She and Eloise would get along nicely. Eloise, however, was feeling particularly nasty that morning. She crawled through the window and grabbed the girl’s hair. Then she crawled up the wall, pulling the girl with her. Next came the ceiling. The girl was screaming the entire time. Probably. Nathan couldn’t quite hear through the mirror. It didn’t matter though. Eloise pushed through the mirror and behind her came the screamer.
Nathan smiled.
Showtime.
He barged into the suicide stall that the girl had undoubtedly entered. She was staring wide eyed at the girl eating the revolver. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a hug, whispering into her ear not to look. She pushed against him, crying out in fear.
BANG!
The girl jumped out of her skin (
not literally. yet) then clutched him tightly. She was muttering to herself, a prayer by the sounds of it. Ha. How ironic. Well, girl, look no further. God is before you. She thanked him, over and over. They left the stall and huddled by the door. He offered her a bit of leftover meat, which she ate greedily. He grinned an impish grin when he saw how she enjoyed it. It truly was the little things in life. He looked off into space, pleased with his performance, not noticing how the girl was sneaking glances at him.
And blushing.
And honestly she was rather cute. Why, the only thing that would make her even cuter?
A necklace.
He was thinking a leather choker would be in order.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day
“AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH”Brody let out a scream from his core. Nathan looked down at him and grinned. He had just stomped Brody’s leg. And laughed. Fucking prick.
“So sorry, bub. But it looks like I might have found my ticket out of here. But I reckon I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your uh...heh.”Nathan trailed off and started down the red path, eyes locked on the mirror.
Brody drilled daggers into the back of the boy. He couldn’t just let him go. He was a monster. A fucking monster. If he got out…
“C’mon, loser. You really gonna just walk away? C’mon and be a man. Fight me, assfuck.”Brody stumbled to his feet, wiping off his face on his jacket. Nathan turned back for a moment and chuckled.
“Not interested, fagboy. Fuck off and die.”He laughed, turned, and continued.
Brody popped his neck then took a couple steps behind Nathan. He spread his arms wide and smiled.
“Just going to run away? Big bad Nathan afraid of a fagboy? YOU’RE NOTHING! PATHETIC! USELESS. THE SHIT ON MY JACKET’S MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU, YA WORTHLESS FUCK.”Nathan stopped. Then turned. He had that look in his eyes, Brody noted. The madness. It looked like he pressed the right buttons. Nathan charged at him, screaming. Yep. Right buttons. He moved in for a tackle, but Brody took a step back and to the side, pushing against the bastard’s head. He went to the ground, but flailed for a grip on the boy’s pantleg. Brody responded with a kick to the temple. Nathan’s twisted to one side and he waited for a moment. Then he started to get back up. This time, Brody charged him. He caught Nathan off guard, and took the boy back to the ground. He threw a couple punches, landing solidly against Nathan’s ear and nose respectively. Then another to the eye.
God that feels perfect. Fucking monster.
Nathan looked a bit broken. He lay there, fighting for each breath. Brody could see them hitching in his throat. The guy might be three different kinds of fucked up but…
Dammit, he couldn’t kill the guy. Brody leaned back a bit, breathing harshly. He was done. This wasn’t happening. He’d just get the fuck out of here and never look back. That wa-
OW GOD DAMMIT
Brody looked down in time to see Nathan pull a knife out of Brody’s arm. Then he felt a sharp pain across his stomach. He looked down to see his white (well, not as white due to...yeah) shirt darkening.
Where the fuck did this psycho get a fucking knife.
He lunged up for Brody’s throat, but the guy was able to grab his arm and wrist before he had a second mouth. The two of them struggled for a moment, Nathan pushing the knife with everything he had, Brody using everything to stop it. But Brody had the upper hand. Literally. He rolled the wrist until he heard a snapping sound. Nathan dropped the knife, and Brody quickly swooped it up. Nathan didn’t let that stop him. He swiped at Brody, landing a solid hit against his jaw.
Brody stabbed Nathan. Near the base of the neck. Then again, this time between a couple ribs. Then again, this time through the cheek. Nathan was screaming out. Brody threw a last punch toward the boy’s nose. He heard a satisfying crunching sound, hell, he FELT it. It felt great. Then he got off Nathan, who just slowly squirmed due to the pain. He was crying.
He was fucking pathetic. A goddamn worm. Brody pocketed the knife and stepped over the body.Nathan would bleed out here. That was a given. Brody was done. He started down the path, not even glancing back over his shoulder.
“GET...BACK HERE...FAG! I AIN’T...DONE...YET”Brody just sighed and shook his head.
The words of a dying man, wasted.
α Nathan Duarte Ω
Earlier Today
Nathan scowled, arms crossed, thoughts gone. He was burning in rage. The plan went off without a hitch. That little puppy was putty in his palm. He didn’t even have to work for it. She practically begged him to help her do it.
…
It didn’t taste the same. Not being challenged for it, that was. At least with the murder, there was a little bit of a struggle. Oh, how did he love the struggle. Watching the life leave their eyes made everything work it. But she just accepted it. FUCK HER TOO. FUCK JULIA. FUCK MELISSA FRANKLIN. FUCK EVERYONE.
Someone else entered the bathroom. A…
A boy?
What kind of faggot enters the girl’s bathroom? Jesus fuck, this could be social suicide.
He called for Eloise to grab the guy...but she didn’t. She protested. It wasn’t a good idea. Not with other body just RIGHT then. He hadn’t even gotten a good start on the...job.
She hesitated again. Then he yelled. For her to move her useless ass. Eloise was hurt at first, but then left the mirror. Anything for love.
And thus we’ve come full circle.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day
A scream erupted from behind him. Brody turned to see Nathan desperately crawling his way. Was he still looking for a-
Then Brody saw what was happening. Two mutilated woman were approaching him. Brody recognized both. The hollow one and one with a belt necklace. Their movements were jerky, their faces pulled back in pain, but Brody could see fully what was happening here.
They were quicker than the crawler. They dropped onto him and pinned him down. One jammed a sharp finger into his eye, popping it. The mutilated one giggled. The other one, the necklace, was busy clawing into his stomach. It ripped first the clothing, then the skin, then the muscle, then it was ripping bits and pieces out and swallowing them. Mutilated took a piece to eat too, but, Brody saw the meat reappear just a few moments, falling out of the hole at the end of his throat and landing at the bottom of the abdominal cavity. He felt sick. But honestly, he felt justice. Or irony. In any case, they seemed content with their little meal an-
An anguished scream nearly toppled Brody. Out of nowhere, the original horror appeared, the one that unbeknownst to Brody, was once Eloise Jenkins. But now? Now it was a creature of pure rage. It tore into the two eating Nathan, ripping them asunder and letting loose another howl of pain. Then greedily stuffed the two girls into its gullet. It looked down at Nathan and sobbed.
Brody could faintly make out the word “Nathan”.
Then it ate him.
Just in one swoop. Nathan couldn’t even yell, if he were even still capable of such a task. One moment he’s there, the next time he’s becoming more powerful somewhere else. Eloise bawled and turned it gaze to Brody.
Brody took off in a sprint towards the mirror.
Eloise followed.
Brody gained speed, feeling the path below him getting thinner and thinner. He didn’t dare turn around. To turn around was to surrender himself to the ghost.
A roar broke loose behind him.
Brody just continued to run. As he came down the final stretch, Brody could have swore that he saw something in the nothingness. Something fucking HUGE. Something moving. He could make out some basic features in the dark. Eyes. Nose. Mouth. Horns. Holy fuck it was big. It’s HEAD was just coming over the horizon, and already it threatened to engulf the sun. If there were one, that is. And despite there being no air, no animals, and the ground on which he ran not even fully there, Brody could sense the monstrosity approaching.
No longer could Brody wait. Ghosts he could take. THAT? Hell no.
As he finished up, he could see the light escaping the mirror growing fainter and fainter. And fainter. No. No. NO NO NO NO AND FAINTER NO! NOT NO!
Brody didn’t think. He gave into impulse and…
Jumped. Right into the mirror.
♥Brody Cunningham♥
Present Day: Back in the Bathroom
The crack in the mirror started small, webbing out from the impact Gray made. Eloise screamed bloody murder. She whipped the air around her. But as the webbing spread, Eloise faded.
But it was the salt that nailed the final nail in the ghostly coffin. As soon as it touched her, Eloise fell to the ground, writhing in pain and crying.
Then she was gone. Completely. Everything stopped. No banging doors, no raging sinks...nothing.
A moment passed.
Silence.
Another moment passed.
More silence.
Yet another moment.
The mirror burst. And sliding across the floor, getting sliced up by broken glass? One Brody Cunningham. He didn’t move for a moment. He couldn’t. He felt so sore. Everything was screaming in him. Everything was stinging.
His eyes scanned the room. Still dark. No.
No.
OH PLEASE NO.
THAT’S JUST FUCKING CRUEL. NO. NO.
The room was illuminated once more as the hanging light sprung back to life. Brody could have cried. Might have cried. But his eyes stung. So...no. He ached everywhere. But he fought it. Brody pushed himself up to his fight, but staggered. He looked from person to person, but offered no words, no smiles…
That could wait. There were more pressing matters to attend to than nerds.
For now? Brody turned and approached a sink. He wordlessly turned the handle and watched the water flow. It was real water. He could have cried.
…
Nope, he was crying. Definitely crying. Oh fuck it. He needed it. Brody cupped his hands, gathering as much water as possible, in his mouth before spitting it out. He had to get the taste out. He had to get the shit out. As soon as possible. And then splashed his face. He grabbed for a paper towel but...out-of-order bathrooms? Yeah, not stocked. Brody removed his jacket and used it as an impromptu towel. It felt like he got a bit of the shit and dried blood/vomit off, but…did that really ever leave a man.
…
Whatever. Just scrub. Get clean.
Cleanliness was next to Godliness.
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