#feelingnxrmal

feelingnxrmal

He wanted to believe that they could make it out alive. He wanted to believe that the both of them could make do with their surroundings and find weapons along the way, forgetting about how they should feel hungry and thirsty and in need of shelter and rest, but in truth, they only felt tired.

A weariness settled over him and his head ached, but not because of want of food or drink. It was the fatigue in knowing that you’d be wandering in a great, wide maze for the past few days out in the open sun, the heat taking from you your energies, your coherent thoughts, and above all, your drive to move another step.

And still they progressed, because they had no other choice. Their survival was imperative, their right to keep going, to keep shoving the walls that tried to conceal and swallow them whole, and their right to keep breathing.

He hadn’t lost Joseph again and he was thankful, but every unknown corner and twisted shamble of shadow filled Sebastian with paranoia that, yet again, his partner would be taken from him by some unknown force he couldn’t control.

“You doin’ alright?” he asked, if only to break the silence in the gloom. “I feel like I should be starving but I’m not…I’m not even thirsty. Do you think that’s normal?”

( one per series / fandom ) ; then tag 10 people.

tagged by: the bae; influencedbyfear 

angsty starter meme | i guess i deleted it whoops ???

Screams echoed, coming from nowhere and everywhere. On the floor she was dragged through wet spots, slippery but course at the same time. A metallic scent filled the air. Maggots writhed in a large squirming masses within the newly formed holes of the bodies that littered the floor.

❝♫ I..have looked all over.. but no girlie can I find, who seems to be just like the little girl I have.. in mind..♫❞ The words hung in the air as the sound of a table saw exploded. Cutting through his song. Putrescent strings of gore were flung about from the struggling body. Muffled wet screams were heard through the tongueless mouth of the patient. It was all music to his ears as he continued, sliding the now hairless, half skinned body further into the cutting blades of the saw. 

A pause in his step had him turn, his lipless smile gleaming in the dark as bright cold blue  eyes peer down at them. 

❝Darling, I want you to have my baby.❞ Suit, once so tidy was slathered with blood. ❝I can make you the perfect bride.❞  And he held up a knife, the loud cacophony of the table saw had died down. The now dead body still warm and twitching.

Make her perfect. Make her perfext.

Sebastian doesn’t stumble; never of his own volition, anyway. He can be beaten or tossed around, but so long as the earth is not shaking, he will continue to stand on his own two feet. There may be a slight waver, there may be a downturn of the shoulders, but it’s all inconsequential. 

That statement isn’t meant to be metaphorical, it’s meant to be literal. Because his alcohol tolerance is obscene and he basically drowned himself the night prior into this morning; so much so it probably would have killed a man weighing three pounds less.

This is beside the point: the point is that he shouldn’t be drunk at all. But that had become the norm -- his personality was 80% liquor. He could hardly generate a memory of when he was sober. 

Those memories are best left in a corner anyway. He only needs to remember what is happening in this moment; in this moment he is failing to rub the grogginess out of the corners of his eyes, lazily tugging at the tie turned noose around his neck. Cool air brushes against the nape of his neck as it twists out from behind the precinct door.

He was late, no one expected any better, and the red around his eyes could almost have been construed as sleep deprivation. But that wasn’t it and more than his breath gives it away, despite how casually he seems to enter the threshold.