She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XLVII)

Disclaimer

The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!

———

An hour had passed since his encounter in the alley, but he was fortunate enough to continue on without being seen.  Part of him was completely baffled that it hadn’t ended in the alley with the two bikers.  They had been discovered before he had escaped into the street, and there was no logical explanation as to why he hadn’t been seen.

The shadows reached out to him as he passed.  They latched onto his bloody form and hugged him close, passing him onto the next as he ran.  His chainmail shirt rattled with each step as it softly bounced against his skin.  The saya of his weapons clacked together from his movements, and yet it was as if he were on the outside of perception.

When he did come across the path of another, they continued on as if he wasn’t there.  It was no different from any other day in his life, that feeling of being an outsider had never felt stronger.  He sought out their eyes and they suddenly found something more important to look at.  He spoke a brief greeting and they mumbled in disinterest.  He was the most wanted person in All Saints, and yet, he was also the least important.

“Welcome to my life,” he muttered in disgust.

It no longer mattered.  There was nothing left for him but the end of this twisted journey, an end which would find the perpetrators of his recent downfall against the edges of his daisho.

He thought about the first of the two people he would be paying a visit to.

“You better listen to me, you little creep…”

His words jumped out of the recesses of memory, reminding him of when this all started.  He could still feel the cold impact of the concrete against his skull from when Tommy had slammed him against it for emphasis.  He had caught Scott looking at his girlfriend, something that nearly every guy in their class did, but because Scott had been one of the ‘shunned ones’, he had received the brunt of his anger.

He smiled.  The joke had been on him, because as he lay curled on the ground, he had seen everything when she stepped over him.

“Say, you sure are lucky!”

Arnie’s voice floated out of the void and just like that, the smile was gone.  Just as he had been there at the shed, so had he been from the beginning as well.  Always there, helping him back to his feet.  Always seeming to care about how he was doing and whether or not he needed someone to talk to.

“What the hell’s with that guy anyways,” he asked softly.

The sound of his voice startled a nearby jogger, causing her to lose her stride.  She glanced his way with a look of mild irritation, but did nothing more than to widen the distance between them as she passed.  He watched with mild amusement.  Normally when someone approaches you covered in blood, it tended to make more of an impact.  She had only given him a second glance and had gone on her way.

How long had it been since this had all begun?  Hours?  Days?  He wasn’t sure anymore.  Even though a part of him knew that what had begun with Lucy had been in the late hours of the night before, it felt weeks away from this moment.  Much like the shadows, time had stretched itself around him, stealing away the seriousness of his actions.  He had finally become the Outsider that he had thought he was and it felt nothing like it was supposed to.

It much more cold and unforgiving than he ever imagined.  The last of Scott Vali was dying inside of him and what was left frightened the fragments of his former self. What was left was a creature capable of crushing the family dog beneath the door. What was taking his place was something who could throw someone off of a balcony and hunt them down like a wounded animal.  What he had become was something ‘other’ than human that could cut down two bikers as if they were made of Papier-mâché.

A thick, hot tear escaped from the corner of his right eye and slowly burned its way down his cheek and he mourned the life that was lost.  While it may not have been much, it might have been better than this.  As Tommy’s house came into sight, Scott mourned the last of what little life he’d had.

 

 

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