Vincent said, walking into the dark, big house.
The place was surounded by a dead silence that was broke with a deep sigh. He walked through the long, dark hall toward the last door, wich was Jeremy's room.
He open it slowly, not paying attention to the sight smell of rootnes and blood that came out of there.
"Babe please..." he called "you're still mad..?"
The room was darker than the rest of the house, with all the blinds and windows closed.
It was cold. Really cold.
He stepped closer to the bed, were his beautifull boyfriend was sitting, back against the wall, with his head tilting to a side and his green eyes sightly open, with a dead look on them.
"I'm sorry, okay? I know you hate violence... But I coudnt stand it anymore..."
He knelled in front of him, placing one of his hands on the boy's knee.
"I coudnt let him hurt you anymore..."
He stroke his cheek softly, worried about the fact that he haven't talked in almost a week. His skin was pale, cold, almost as he was dead. The trace tears had left was still there, but now it was dry and salty. His lips, that once used to be a light pink, were now white as snow and dry as paper. His hands, covered in dry blood that used to come out of his wrists and arms.
He leaned closer to him, worried and sad, desperate from any reaction that could come from him.
He kissed him softly. He didnt care how could he react. It didnt matter if he rejected him or not. He just needed to see him move, to hear his voice, to show that he was still alive.
But nothing happened. He didnt got surprised, pushed away or even kiss back. He just stayed there.
Vincent pulled back slowly, looking down before placing a hand on the others forehead.
"youre cold... Maybe... Maybe youre just sick and thats all..."
He said, more to himself than to the younger one. He sighs once again.
"I'm calling the doctors, this cant go on like this..."
And with this words, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
He was more than just worried.
As he walked to the living room, he passed in front of the basement door, stopping there, looking at it with disgust.
"This is all your fault... If you woudnt had hurt him, any of this would have happened..."
And after he said this, he kept walking. Once there, he called the nearest hospital, and in less than five minutes, an ambulance was already on the entrance. But what they found was nothing like they were expecting.
The house was completely dark, except for some little zones were the light could filtrate through the blinds.
Vincent leaded the doctor to the room, explaining to him that they had argue and since that day he had stop talking, moving or even eating.
When he opened the door, a strong smell of rootness and blood came out of the it, making the doctor start to feel dizzy. Inside that room there was a corpse.
The doctor stepped back, surprised and even scared, looking at Vincent with his eyes wide open. Vincent stared back, looking calm, raising an eyebrow at him.
He asked, not looking away from the doctor, who was still stunned by what he saw.
He was told it was a sick boy, not a dead one.
"N-No mister, nothings wrong, but I... I-I'm gonna need help from the others to... Take him to the ambulance... I-I'll be right back..."
The doctor said, before quickly walking outside the house, calling the police. He asked Vincent to get out of the house, with the excuse that they needed space to work and he would make it more difficult for them.
They told him he was gonna be okay.
The police soon arrived. They told him they had to check the house just for "security stuff"
Vincent stayed out all the time, wating to get any news about his loved one.
As he was outside, the police was inspectioning the house.
Every room was perfectly fine, except for Jeres room, wich was a mess, with blood everywere and a depressive ambient that no one could ignore, and the basemen, wich was locked.
They kicked the door down, and the smell of putrefaction and blood invaded the place. They went down, just to find a sadistic and horripilant scene. There was a man, hands and foots firmly tied to the wall, with cuts all over his skin. His stomach had been cut wide open, his eyes ripped off and some of his organs were still hanging from the cut.
A police officer started to interrogate the man that called the doctor, who was clearly not in a good mental state. He kept repeating the same story, that his boyfriend was just sick or mad, he got worried and thats why he called. He said he havent moved in a week, even though he tried to feed him he would refuse by not even touching what was on the plate. When he was asked about the blood, he looked confused, denying he had ever saw his lovely boyfriend bleeding in all this time.
The man had lost completely touch with reality, making it imposible for him to asume the others obvious death.
He was trapped in his mind.
The kid was everything for him.
And loosing him was not an option.
That was everything this man could see.
He coludnt move his arms, not at all.
This man was once called Vincent.
But with the time, he even stopped responding to that word he used to call his name.
His purple hair had grew up, covering his face completely.
He had lost every little and significant trace of sanity.
He woudnt sleep and he would barely eat.
Cause the human been he once was...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well.... I posted it after all... //^\\
Im sorry if it has any errors tho...
prguitarman
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