Alex. Day Five - 2:58

I need to feel something: pain, anger, fear, happiness, sorrow, joy, or even, the unspeakable, non-existing love. It doesn't matter which: I don't feel anything at all and I need to, I'm going mad in this empty shell. It's only so long until these fleshy prison walls cave in and my eyes will shut for the final time. That can't happen, not now anyway: I have a purpose to fulfil that's hardly begun, and I hope whatever being is up there, that they have mercy and a sense of understanding if it does eventually come down to that. It sounds narcissistic, but I can't die, not yet.

I need to sort things out, get my priorities in order, because I don't like it, but I won't lost much longer like this. My brain is a peculiar thing, a clockwork bomb and stimulation is the only thing that will prolong the countdown. Some days, sometimes however, I get so desperate that I want to, that I need to let the seconds tick down so I can explode because I need to feel something even if it does end me. It's like being dehydrated and drinking litre after litre of water, but no matter how much you drink, nothing can really quench your thirst. I'm the sea in the middle of the desert, greedy and cackling, but as soon as I take a drink, my waters are toxic and poisoned with sand.

To give my aforementioned simile some context, think of me as the dehydrated suffer, with a thirst wild and untameable; think of dehydration itself as the time bomb with seconds ticking down until I die, because no matter how pretend the water seems, how dry it makes my throat, the consequences of not drinking it are far too real in comparison. Finally, think of my victims as the litres of water; I always need more, I need to keep my thirst quenched, but it never works. It never fucking works! Maybe I should try something else altogether, something exciting, but maybe slightly more legal; I don't know, snowboarding or something pathetically healthy like that.

But, you know what? Let me tell you something that's been bothering me immensely; it's been the first time anxiety has set foot in these bones for years and I'm not sure if I appreciate it. It hurts to feel, it hurts even more than the decaying numbness that is there otherwise. Emotions are like the daggers that slit your throat and numbness is like the torture rack, slowing pulling you apart. This anxiety however, has a cause a very real cause; it's a cause that I was at first overjoyed with until I realised the gravity of my poor situation, until I felt the human blood pumping through my veins and I heard my heartbeat in silent moments - it's driving me insane, because it never fucking shuts up. My brain is awake, it's alive with thoughts that I don't need, trivial matters that'll only slow me down like worrying about how lonely I am and whether I need to eat. You're missing the positive part in this entirely, the thirst went away. My thirst is quenched and I hate to say it, but I think I know why, and boy, I do not like the reason.

This all started as soon as Jack got here. Those brown eyes into mine; the sadness, the longing, the desire to oblige, to make me happy, keep me entertained and as much as I hated to say it, Jack was my favourite victim- No, I wasn't, I shouldn't be allowed to have favourites, because if I have favourites, then I get attached and attachment is an emotion, a human desire that I've spent my life striving away from - I can't relapse now over some stupid boy with stupidly perfect eyes.

I should have suspected it really; eventually there'd be one that made it stop, one that I didn't need to kill, because they kept the thirst at bay. He hasn't just prolonged the time bomb inside of me, he's gotten rid of it entirely. The whole thing just ripped out of me chest. It scares me, because I haven't felt this human in years, and to put it lightly, I don't exactly like it. I don't appreciate the constant pounding in my chest, the in out mechanism that draws in breath after breath, and let me tell you, the sex drive's horrible.

I need to be reckless, I need to shut off this desire, this compassion, this loving and care I seem to have developed for this boy. Maybe the thing I need to cut off is his air supply? Or maybe just carve his heart out- No; maybe I could do something all the more heartless (pardon the pun) entirely. Something just that little bit more fun, and a heck of a lot more dangerous. Fun and dangerous? Right up my street.

-

Jack. Day Five - 17:13

Alex hadn't spoken to me all day and I know it shouldn't, but it was really beginning to bother me. Simply because, well Alex didn't just do things; his brain ticked in perfect synchronisation, rather like clockwork, which meant he didn't just do, or not do things - for Alex everything was for a reason and even the slightest fluctuation in the normal timeline of events meant a dreadful cause for suspicion. Dreadful because, we both knew that Alex was the smarter one here, so it was really always up to him what happened, what course of actions I took, no matter how much he liked to play the cards into my hand, he always had the final ace hidden in his pocket. And of course, concluding that, the bastard always won.

The insanity set in further as the Alex-less hours passed by, indicated only be a sole clock on the wall ticking out far too loudly to let me think in peace. i even begin to get worried about him, because I hadn't a clue what was happening. All I had were nervous assumptions based upon the simple fact that Alex was cleverer than me, which meant he could easily outsmart me, so I'd pose no threat to him whatsoever. Other people however, people could not know the exact intelligence and murderous capacities of, and after all Alex had mentioned allies before and from what I know about the arrogant guy. I'm guessing the word 'allies' is to be taken rather lightly.

Was he the kind of guy to hang around with people smarter than for an advantage, or the one to acquaint himself with those of lesser intelligence just to make himself feel better? He was arrogant, but maybe not quite that arrogant. I think these allies were rather clever too, simply because I doubted that he could cope with constant explaining everything to stupid people without dragging an axe through their skulls. This would be rather messy in both physical and legal aspects, but it wasn't exactly as if Alex actually had an ounce of respect the law and abiding by legal boundaries was simply far too tedious for him.

Maybe he was in trouble right now. Maybe I should help him- if only, if only he hadn't thought to chain me to the wall- No, I'd hardly be any use to aid Alex against the 'allies' that someone of his nature would undoubtedly have. I should just wait here and hope that if someone does eventually open the door, it'll be Alex and Alex alone. I could never be just that lucky though? Now could I?

-

18:42

The door clicked open and there stood Alex, alone and grinning. I'd never been happier to see a serial killer in my life, and judging from manicness of his grin, he'd never been happier to see me either. But I should've known, this was Alex, this was the wrong kind of happiness entirely. I doubted this was even happiness entirely and more of some gruesome burning, bubbling pot of maniacal narcissism and self-righteousness that was about to explode.

"Hello Jacky." His voice rang out in a creepy tone as he locked the door behind him. The whole room stank of 'bad predictable horror movie' and his tone of voice certainly fit into that criteria, but there was no murder weapon, no nothing to be found, which of course could only lead to cruel intentions that I hadn't a clue to the identity of, which made it all the more entertaining for Alex of course. I forget I'm the sock puppet in this messed up relationship sometimes. But he sure does a hella of a good job of reminding my sorry eyes.

"Hello Alex." I decided to play along, watching his every movement through narrowed eyes. I hated the fact that I had to be cautious; I hated the fact that I had to be scared of him. I just wanted him to be normal and to be able to know him like a normal person. I wanted to be friends, at least friends, would be fine. We'd text and chat and go to stupid concerts together and argue over favourite bands and he'd mock my nerdiness and I'd mock that weird little fringe he has going on - it works for him, but whatever. My little fantasy is so blatantly fake it makes me sick to my stomach, because no, there was none of that: we murder, we panic, we forgot about emotions and we spend hours making sure the over doesn't end us, but most importantly we end up falling in a mess, an untidy heap, we fall- I fall, no I fell in fact, for Alex.

Those eyes glistened at me; he ran his tongue over his lips, tempting fate, and tempting possibility. "I'm bored, Jacky." The words hit me like a sack of bricks over my head and my eyes immediately darted about the place, looking for the knife, looking for the gun, looking for the weapon. There was none of course, I'd covered that earlier, but my panicked self was not exactly a pro when it came to common sense, well to put it lightly. To put it realistically, I was a neurotic wreck, who fell in love with serial killers- No, not just any serial killer, Alex Gaskarth. The kidnapper, murderer, unknown to the police, deadly and stupidly clever, along with horribly narcissistic.

He chuckled a little, "don't look so nervous: you and I are going to have a little fun." I swallowed hard, knowing far too well that his definition of fun differed greatly from mine. Films and food was hardly comparable to murder and kidnap. Alex Gaskarth was hardly comparable to me, yet he insisted oh so persistently that we, he and I, were alike. That scared me and it ought to, because common knowledge was that Alex was usually right. I chose to ignore that fact momentarily, simply for the childish and stupid reason that I didn't like it.

******[[THERE IS RAPEY SMUT NOW IF YOU DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE READING IT THEN SKIP DOWN TO THE NEXT PART IN BOLD OK]]*******

He grabbed me by my wrists and pushed me down onto the moth-eaten mattress I'd barely slept upon. I didn't quite know how to react or exactly what was happening or in a more rational afterthought - why I'd not even considered this, or let alone expected it. I just trusted Alex too much and that was going to end up getting me killed and most likely at his hand, behind his gun, with his finger behind the trigger, but the situation I had landed myself in now was all the more concerning. And that was precisely why Alex had chosen this trial, this test; because he knew I'd fail like a stupid little bitch.

He pinned me against the mattress, his still manically grinning figure looming above me, "do you know how this goes, Jacky?" He ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip in a way that shouldn't make me fall for him; I shouldn't be so devilish attracted to someone so downright devilish as Alex. "Or should I run it through to you?" he leaned in, his breath cold against my ear. I shivered in my skin, having him millimetres away from me was both terrifying, yet wonderful. I just didn't quite want it to go like this. I never wanted it to go like this, because despite the sickening feat that was about to occur, I still found myself in admiration, in lust, in love with him; it was stupid. I was stupid. Stupid people deserve punishing, I guess. Just not, maybe not like this. Well, it wasn't not exactly common knowledge that Alex had little to no regard for moral code, values or law.

I remained in a comatose silence as his words still hung like ghosts about my ear. He didn't like this, one bit. He pushed me down into the mattress by my shoulders, "did your parents not teach about sex, Jacky?" He'd put it rather bluntly, an unquestionable matter that I was not allowed to object to. Then it finally seemed to sink it, he was going to rape me. Alex Gaskarth was going to do that to me. I was going to be the one to lose it to him. It just didn't fit right and the thought made me want to expel all my internal organs through my throat.

I hated to admit it, but I was a virgin. A sad lonely virgin, but that didn't matter; no one deserved to lose it like this, especially not from him. He wouldn't be gentle either, that I could tell. He'd go as he wanted, he'd top, he'd be in control and he'd make me into some sick little puppet of his, but I hated the thought deep inside of me, screaming and screaming at me that I was going to have to shut up and enjoy what I could of it. It was sex; there'd surely be pleasure involved? I hadn't a clue, or the courage to ask Alex and that menacing gaze in his eyes.

It was the eyes, his eyes, which really struck me, because his eyes were still brown, deep and perfect. They were still the same eyes from when I first met him at Joe's party, five days ago. The rest of him was considerably more dishevelled and psychotic looking, but his eyes remained the same and that didn't look like it was going to change any time soon. Some say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but in Alex's case I'd say they were the opposite. Alex's eyes were an echo, a shadow, a reflection of what used to be and what could never be again. A ghost at the gate to the graveyard, nothing more than a shimmering silhouette in the light, but an unforgettable one at that. I couldn't forget this; that was for sure.

"Alex-" I choked out, attempting to pull in fresh breaths of air that hadn't been polluted by his musky scent, mixed with blood and gunpowder. "Please don't, I-" It of course, was no use and I even sounded rather pathetic simply trying, but then again Alex had this weird ability and intimidating quality just to make people feel pathetic, sometimes simply by looking at them. Or maybe it was just my stupid amount of respect for someone so unworthy of respect as him.

"I'm bored, Jacky." His fingers ran up the inside of my shirt, "it's your job to entertain me, haven't you figured that out yet?" Soon he pulled the thing clean off, leaving my exposed torso for him to play with and generally do god knows what to. He ran an ice cold finger across my chest, leaving a paler streak of skin where his finger ran. "Think of this as payment you little bitch." He traced over the line with his nail, making a surprisingly deep cut across my chest. The blood streamed out across my skin and he grinned at it manically, almost turned on and I was more than scared by now.

I let out a shriek of pain; he showed no compassion, simply putting a finger to his lips to shush me. "Alex-" His fingers ran over the waistband of my boxers. I shivered down into the mattress as his fingertips collided with the exposed skin. "Please, stop. I don't want to do this!" I yelled relentlessly, pathetically, stupidly like a small child wailing for candy, and the parents had already put earplugs in. I could keep complaining, screaming for hours, for days, forever, but he'd never let himself hear me.

He ignored my pleads and simply looked me straight in the eye, "don't waste your voice, Jacky." A grin passed over his dirty lips, "you'll be putting it to good use later." And without hesitation his fingers went straight to my zipper. My jeans were off and tossed to the floor before I could even comprehend another plea for him to stop. It finally occurred to me that he wasn't going to stop, no matter how much I was asking him to. I should've known really: after all, it was Alex. He liked to win. He liked to win more than anything and that was horribly, sickeningly dangerous, like a drink spiked with something nasty; flashback here we go. Remind me never to touch anything at a party ever again, especially if it's been in his hands, I wouldn't be surprised if he had sedatives injected into the tips of his fingers that he could release as and when he thought appropriate.

"Maybe I should just confiscate your clothes entirely." He thought aloud. I panicked as I heard, because no, that was not a good idea, because I certainly did not enjoy this, no matter how much he wanted me to, I was not like him. "You look so much more beautiful free from those fabric prison bonds." His words were like poetry and he spoke in a whisper worthy of a bedtime story not this, not rape. I was sick- no he was sick, he was sick in the mind and he needed healing, I just doubted that I could, I couldn't- I was worthless, stupid, idiotic, useless - I was just Jack, I was just me. I wasn't important.

"The only bonds here are the ones you've tied me to the wall with!" I snapped it him, pulling down on my chains, ignoring the scaring that'd undoubtedly make a permanent appearance on my wrists if he ever untied me. It'd be a sickening reminder, an accidental drunken tattoo, but with a heck of a lot more meaning of course. With a terrible meaning, a terrible reminder- if I ever got out that was. I was beginning to doubt that I would even more day by day.

"Hmm..." He paused for a moment. "Yes, they are a little restricting." A little? Never before have I met a man that thought clothes were more restricting than chains. Well, I guess I don't know many nudists, but that's hardly the point. "You'll have to prove your worth to me though, dear Jacky." Fuck him. Fuck him. And ironically, that was exactly what I was being forced to do. It was growing even more sadistic by the second and I couldn't hate it more- No. He'd know, and boy he'd make me hate it more.

He pulled my boxers clean off without any warning simply for my reaction. He didn't even glance at it. I on the other hand was more concerned about the indecent exposure I was being exposed to. "Alex. I'm a virgin. I-I- I don't want to do this." He stopped for a moment, and I began to let the possibility that he may consider slip through my mind, but of course he wouldn't - it is Alex, after all. Alex doesn't give a damn if he's enjoying himself then it's fine.

"I'll go easy on you, Jacky - don't worry." He began to remove his own clothing with one hand as he held me down with the other. I imagined he trusted that the chains would restrain me sufficiently, but he just liked to touch my exposed skin. He liked to make me feel uncomfortable and he liked just how much power he had now. I, on the other hand despised it. My trust in this man degrading rapidly, but surely that was advantageous, considering our current situation. How could I trust somebody like this?

"Alex, just kill me. I don't care, but please not this." I looked up into those eyes; his eyes shot me a momentary look that said 'I'm sorry'. I blinked rapidly, not even believing I'd seen it and I was met with a stern expression that assured me I hadn't, however my memories strongly assured me otherwise. It made no sense though, why would he be sorry? He's enjoying this, that's quite clear. If there's one thing that is.

"Oh, but Jacky." He was fully naked now, "this is so much more fun." Looks like my brief flash of compassionate Alex was gone. I should've suspected it. Nothing good ever stays; evil is simply a stronger force in life. It shouldn't be so, but it is.

"Alex-"

"Roll over." I knew what was going to happen now and there was no point in trying to resist it. I just had to let it happen and pray, just pray that it'd all be over soon, but no he'd make me suffer, he'd make it last as long as he could, he'd hold out, he'd torture me and he'd enjoy it. There was no question about that.

I followed his commands, reluctantly, but I was shit scared. I felt my sanity being swallowed by that very mattress. "Are you ready, Jacky?" I heard him ripping a condom packet and it was lovely to know he thought I was filthy enough to need protecting from. No, he was the filthy one here; he was filthy enough to do something like this.

"No." He chuckled manically. I wanted every bone in my bone to snap in two, splitters of bone marrow would infect my blood stream and my blood would clot and then maybe my heart would just give out. Wouldn't that be nice? I'd prefer that to this.

"You're so rebellious, Jacky." I felt the arms around my lowering as pulled himself closer to me. "I think that's why I like you so much." Well, I'll make a note to follow orders from now on- No. That's what he wanted wasn't it? Wait, he wanted entertainment? Fuck, this was all so confusing. Alex was confusing, Alex was messed up, Alex was a psychopath, but Alex was my Alex. I hated that, but it certainly didn't look like it was going to change anytime soon, anytime ever.

"3," This was it, the countdown. I already felt his tip hanging above my entrance in a way that made me want to hurl. This was sick, he was sick. "2," Goodbye virginity, goodbye life before Alex, fuck you and your parties Joe. If I ever saw that bastard again I was going to destroy his alcohol supply- If. My chances had downgraded from a when to an if. "1."

"Fuck-" 

It hurt like hell, but what was I expecting? He grinded against me ravenously, pumping in and out at an uneven and psychotic rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. How long left? Thoughts passed across my mind, but I couldn't quite grasp them. Everything was lost in this one decision. This sickening act, him inside of me. I wasn't ready, I wasn't ready at all. I'd never be ready again with a decision like this.

As he eventually lifted himself out of me after reaching an orgasm I didn't share, he let our eyes make contact and I swear I saw that human look again, that look that made me question everything, but before I could function it was gone.

"Night night, Jacky." And with that he was gone. I was alone now. I was left with me thoughts and after this, thoughts set on destroying ever cell that existed in these fleshy prison walls.

Show me the skyline and I'll show you decadence, a subtle reminder of hearts filled with loneliness.

Hey guys:3 Hope you enjoyed reading that and I hope all of you don't want to kill me;) I'd love it if you took the time to leave a vote and/or a comment: it'd really make me smileee:) Love y'all<3