Because I have nobody else to show..

[Shaki]

... and I won't feel bad about forcing people to look at it/read it, because clicking a thread is purely optional. I expect nothing. 'Cept maybe critique, because I can't tell when I'm doing anything wrong.

Anyways... On to the subject(s)!

OHWAIT. WARNIN. Everything below is rated 'R-ish' for copious amounts of graphic violence and/or cuteness.

//// Monster ////

He didn’t need a psychiatrist.

That was what he’d decided; he was going to avoid going until they just decided to stop trying. He knew exactly what he needed, and it wasn’t that. That would just unravel all of his problems, and he’d end up as a massive tangle of yarn on the floor; completely useless. If that was what they wanted now, they surely weren’t going to get it. They asked for him, and they knew what they were getting into, if they did their research right. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t like what they were seeing from him.

His confidence was lacking. There was no ignoring that empty feeling in his heart. There was supposed to be something there forever, but he wasn’t normal, he needed it filled. He was out. And he was angry.

It was an empty feeling; trigger-haired, going from simply standing to completely enraged, standing over someone else; a whole person who’d made the mistake of speaking in whatever way they had. Sometimes they didn’t even speak. He just took them down and made them feel equally as hurt as he did on the inside. Really, he knew what he was looking for. It wasn’t his action, it was the reaction. So far, none of them had been right.

Innocence was beside him. He didn’t care. He felt his insides rip with a surreptitious sideways glance and he turned, primal violence taking over his body; a desire to destroy. Though he heard nothing, he felt fear and it made him angrier, his insides squeezing together as though trying to collapse in on that emptiness.

“Stop.”

Metal pointed down at his temple, and his body ground to an agitated halt. His eyes traveled and he rose up a bit, silenced and empty, open. He pressed his forehead to the barrel after a moment, eyes flickering shut; waiting. He pushed a little, coaxing. Empty. Just waste one.

“Stupid.”

It whipped away from him and he stumbled, looking up. That was all. He decided, maybe, he could stop now. He could trust that. He could like that. That would never lie to him.
That would fill the hole…

…For now.

//// End ////

[Feather]

*confused* Who was holding the gunnnnn~

Anyway. I want to see more, I like the main fellow, he amuses my Enigma side.

[Shaki]

Gunman? He's as unexplained as the monster, probably more thoughtful though.

Oh? Enigma might like this one more..

//// Breaking ////

Occasionally he’d find him watching, following; stalking him, basically. That kid. The one who he’d pulled the gun on. It was only occasional, but it was… very… annoying nonetheless... He hadn’t asked for this; to be followed around by some nobody. Some nobody who didn’t know the rules… who couldn’t restrain himself. He hadn’t noticed him before, then people started talking about how he’d corner people in the halls; he’d been nice before, apparently. Nice, but a little nuts… at least, now he was a little nuts. He could understand that… he’d been nuts once too. Maybe he still was. Maybe. His shoulders drew up- tilting his head down- and he looked towards the wall, halting in the middle of the empty hallway.

A small noise- that sounded like it was maybe just his soles scuffing the floor- was all he heard in response. Typical. Stupid kid thought he wouldn’t notice if he didn’t make noise. It was his gift, his curse; he could make sense of others... this one was the same. His eyes were empty; they were black holes, almost, trying to pull everything in. He was stronger than that, though… he’d had those eyes, too. He knew how to escape them… the kid learned fast. A heel twisted against the floor and he put his boot down in the opposite direction, eyes searching; his heart beginning to beat oddly, slowly, darkly.

He was stronger… so he thought.

And there he was, lurking behind him, waiting in shadows with those eyes that riled up to a dangerous, quiet fury at a meeting with his. He stiffened. Like two weary old tomcats in an alley, they stared; only the tension of bodies and the slightest of grimaces a sign that they were not statues of flesh but living, breathing things. A boot tapped down on the floor; forwards, one step. One. Two.

Three.

He felt something inside his chest burst open and he scowled; advancing with claws and teeth and bending bones and a full, odd emptiness. He was more than met. Wordless snarls became a violent soundtrack, each grasping and pulling only to throw back with just as much force; movements random and wild, hair askew and flesh darkening like dropped fruit from the force of landed blows. Sickening cracks sounded; ribs and skulls and backs smashed against faux-marble and aimed limbs, fingers snapped and noses dripping, bared canine teeth stained dark liquid red and off-white. Beyond battle-dead ears, there was screaming. But not from their mouths, no; they were quiet.

Fangs grazed each other’s arms and ears and their faces twisted; eyes empty but for a mindless, muted rage. The feeling of sinews being torn from a body was-

He shuddered and released his hold, smashing his palm into the other’s neck and pinning him to the floor, a low growl in his throat as the blood dripped down his chin onto the other’s shirt.

“Masochist.” He vehemently spat.

“Sadist.” The other defiantly croaked.

He laughed.

//// End ////