Outburst
Yet again, Eddie was reworking his stitching on Waylonās gown, though it was frustrating that it was he himself was the cause of the new gashes and tears in the fragile fabric.
As he fished through his stolen supplies, he found the spool of delicate white thread, but sighed, and walked into the supply cupboard to retrieve some likely looking beads, rolling one of the iridescent droplets in between his fingers.
As he walked back towards the dress, he saw one of the hooded hooligans studying the fabric. He let out a disgusted noise.
āDonāt put your filthy hands on that. Honestly, you Legionā¦ā He stalked past, retaking his seat, and scooped up his supplies. āNo sense of reverence for art.ā
āJust wondered if you wanted some snaps of your precious ādarlingā,ā The other hummed, waving a few polariods at Eddie.
āOf course, Iāve been enjoying the sight of him for a few days. The way he cries out when heās close, watching him fight back his tears...Do you imagine running that knife of yours up along his thighs? Watching the red run down all that whiteā¦it must be so gratifying.ā
Eddie had frozen as he listened, his fingers clutching hard onto the scissors in his fingers. āShut up.ā He breathed, as the black clad figure circled the dress.
āDo you dream about holding him down in that asylum? Locking him to one of the beds so you can ravage him again and again? I sure do. Mm. Iād take him there any day. Especially in that pretty dress.ā
Eddie didnāt even realise he was standing until he saw that ridiculous mask in front of him, listening to the choked noises. He pulled the scissors out of the manās neck, and stabbed again, this time in the chest, stabbing again and again until the masked killer fell to the floor.
The scissors in his hand dripped red down onto the white of the mask, even as he tried to regain his composure. āDonāt you ever talk about my Darling like that again.ā Eddie spat. āYou fucking whore. Donāt act like you know him. Heās my Darling, not YOURS!ā
The doors behind him flew open, and Eddie blinked.
āWhatās going on?ā Waylon walked in, before he wrinkled his nose, stepping carefully around the body. āYou killed him?ā
Eddie jerked back. āIā¦I thought it was one ofā¦ā He silently pointed at the shape behind Waylon, who moved to crouch over the bloodied body. The mask slipped up to expose the young blonde underneath, who studied Eddieās handiwork. The other Legion boy stepped in too, hand covering his own mouth. āOh shitā¦ā
āDanny wishes he was one of us.ā He snorted, tilting his head. āFucker is sick-sick.ā The teen picked up a sheaf of polaroids, and let out a strangled noise. āLooks like heās been watching you, Way.ā
Waylon took the photos, and turned a few interesting shades of red. āFuck you, Danny.ā
āHeās probably got copies.ā The teen stood up. āJoey, letās get this loser out of here. Fucker deserved it.ā
As the two teens picked the body up, Eddie blinked. āThat one isnāt part of the Legion?ā
Waylon tossed the polaroids towards the fire, and blinked at him. āNo, heās Ghostface. He gets off watching people and taking photos. Clearly found out where Iāveā¦ā He cleared his throat.
āFrankās their leader. Thereās Julie, Joey and Suzie. Suzie is the pink haired one.ā He explained. āNo one cares if you kill Danny. Heāsā¦ā Waylon made a face. āā¦letās just say he has fun here. Enjoys it a bit too much. What did he even say to you?ā
As Eddieās eyes tore away from the bloodied spot on the floor, he shook his head, and threw the scissors towards the table, disgusted. āNothing I want to repeat. Iām sorry, I shouldnāt have lost my temper.ā
Waylon patted him on the back, and leaned up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. āDonāt worry about it. I know youāre trying. And donāt let Danny get to you. Heāll keep trying to wind you up. And heāll use me to do it.ā He let out a sigh. āLetās get this cleaned up, hmm?ā













