Sunday, February 7, 2010

Scars and Nightmares: Chapter Two

Scars and Nightmares: Chapter Two

AN: I'm so glad some of you decided to follow me over here, even though I know this story is more serious than my other ones.

Characters belong to Stephenie Meyers, although I doubt she'd approve of this story.

JPOV

Putting my uniform on I waited until it was time to leave feeling like crap for cutting myself once again. Shit. Now that I was off my high I could think rationally. Why did I continue doing stuff like that to myself? I'd been doing it on and off since high school. Whenever something horrible happened it always came back full force even when I thought I'd been getting better. It wasn't fair.

Those boys... and me... I wondered if they were as messed up as I was. The one that ended it all I was sure had to be the most messed up one of the bunch. I pondered what happened to the green-eyed boy.

Emmett made the mistake of handing me a box a week ago. He said “Hey Whitlock, your name is on some of this stuff.”

Looking at it I could tell it was old files and some videotapes. I knew then what it would be, but I'd never seen the tapes. “Why the hell do you have this stuff?” I asked Emmett. He was my partner in crime, so to speak. We were both cops.

He shrugged at me and said “I just happened to see your name come across in our database and I had to see if it was really you. I didn't look at the stuff that closely, but I thought you might want to know what other people can find out about you around here.”

Locking myself into a room with all those videos after my shift was over I put the first one in. They seemed to be in order of first to last. I didn't let Emmett stick around to find out what was on them, I couldn't face him if he knew. There were sixteen videos in all. I saved the one of me for last, skipping it even though I was in the middle of the group.

The last video captivated me. There was a boy about ten in it. He was standing in front of the video camera, naked. Behind him was a man, but his face didn't show up as he was taller than where the camera was placed. I didn't need to see his face to remember what the man looked like. The man was completely clothed except for his exposed erect dick. Grabbing the boy by his bronze hair he pulled his head up to the camera and I watched as anger flashed across the boy's face making his green eyes spark. “Tell me that you love me.” The man hissed. The boy spat on the ground in front of him. “You shouldn't have done that. I'll only make it worse for you.” The boy spat again. “Oh now you've made me angry. After I'm done with you I think I'll finish you off for good. You'll be the first boy I've killed. Does that make you happy?” He laughed maniacally.

“Kill me now and get it over with. I'll be happier dead than alive and living with what you've done to me.” The boy declared. He never did cry.

“No. I'm going to have a little fun with you first.” The man said and reached down fondling the boy's penis. I felt sick. I remembered that feeling, that man, the way he smelled, his words. “Don't you like to be touched? All my boys do.” The man said in an ominous tone. The boy spat on the ground again and the man was so angry he slapped the boy on his head making his head turn sharply. He should have fallen down except for the death grip the man had on him with the other hand. “Do you know what I do to my boys that disobey me?” The man questioned, the boy just glared at him. “I fuck them without making it pleasant, that's what.” Then I saw the man swiftly and without warning shove his dick into the boy's ass. The boy's eyes widened and tears formed there but never fell. He looked like he was screaming, but no sound came forth. The man fucked the boy roughly until his ass bled. It was such a disturbing sight I wanted to look away, but couldn't. It was like watching a train wreck in front of my eyes. I wanted to cry for the boy. “You're mine. You'll always belong to me.” The man said to the beautiful angry boy.

“I'll never belong to you. Now kill me like you promised.” The boy stated with his jaw clenched tight. During this video it looked like he had aged several years.

“Not just yet. People will know you belong to me, and I want you to watch as I mark you as mine.” The man said sounding even crazier than before, if that was possible. Grabbing a knife from behind him he sliced the boy's body starting at his chest, then going to the side of his stomach and left some kind of brand there. I didn't need the blood to clear to know there would be a J there. It would match my own. Fortunately for me no one questioned it as they just thought I'd done it to myself on purpose since my name started with a J.

The little boy was dripping in blood now and looked like he was in pain. The older man set the knife down to the side of them and stuck his finger into the blood. I couldn't see him do this, but I was sure he licked the boy's blood off his finger. The look on the boy's face only confirmed it for me, he looked disgusted and started to wretch. The man left his side for a minute to grab a trashcan to shove underneath him. What he didn't see when his back was turned was the little boy picking up the knife. When he looked at the camera I got the impression he was telling anyone who was watching that he was either going to kill this man or make him kill him faster.

Turning around towards the man he shoved the knife into his thigh deeply and pulled it right back out again. It looked like it hit an artery as blood spurted everywhere. The boy was now covered in red blood from head to toe. It was in his hair and only the green of his eyes shone another color. “You should have killed me when I begged you to.” The boy said spitting on the gasping man. The man grabbed him by the arm and threw the boy across the room. I couldn't see where he went, but I heard him slam into the wall and plaster flew into the frame. The knife made a dull thud as it hit the carpet. By this time the man's breath sounded gurgled as though blood or fluid was in his lungs. The boy was still away from the camera and out of sight. I could hear him talking on the phone. He announced “I think I just killed somebody.” Then he dropped the phone and sat on the floor where I could see him again and cried curling himself into a ball. He was so strong, so delicate. I sat there with tears streaming down my own face. I didn't even know that man had been killed and by one of his victims. It was too much for me right then. I didn't bother looking at my own video. I knew it would be me at six, blonde, blue-eyed, young and frightened, begging to go home to his mommy. I didn't think I could handle seeing James do those things to me, the things that my nightmare's were made of.

At the time I wished I'd pass out from the memory, but of course I didn't. If I didn't during the whole ordeal then I wasn't about to then. The boy's video disturbed me more than the others, his made my heart go out to him. As I remembered his frightened, blood-stained face I ran to the bathroom and threw up all the dinner I'd eaten from the night before. Rinsing my mouth out I looked up to see bloodshot blue eyes looking back at me. My blonde curls still looked about the same as they did as when I was a boy never having darkened like most blondes did.

Shaking my head and the image of me as a boy out of my head I practically ran out to my car and got to work quickly. Emmett was there before me surprisingly as I'd arrived early myself. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

He rolled his eyes at me and said “What are you doing here? Coming into work early, that's what we're doing here.” Right then I wanted to punch his face. What the fuck was wrong with me? I usually liked Emmett, so I was overreacting. “You look like shit, man. Are you sick?” He asked me. No, I wasn't sick, not physically anyway. I didn't think I'd ever tell Emmett what was wrong with me for real though. It was pretty frowned upon to be as fucked up in the head as I was, so I tried to hide it well.

“No, man. I just didn't sleep well.” I answered.

Then Emmett brought me out of my misery for a minute saying “You know what you need, don't you?”

“No, Emmett, what is it that you think I need?” I asked him.

“A good hard fuck, that's what.” He said and I laughed at him. Sex was his answer to everything.

“You think so? Are you offering?” I asked him jokingly. He knew I was gay, I knew he was straight and happily married.

“Har har, very fucking funny, Whitlock.” He shot back. “You need to find some good ass to hold onto.”

“Got anyone in mind Emmett?” I asked him. He was always trying to set me up with every gay man he ever came across as though all we needed was to both be gay and we could live happily ever after like he did. Most of the people he came across weren't for me on any planet, much less this one.

“As a matter of fact, I do. He's a doctor and his name is...” I cut Emmett off before he got to the name.

“Emmett, I don't want anyone right now.” I told him in a depressed tone. I didn't, I was too fucked up in the head to mess with that right now. I still remembered the last serious boyfriend I'd had. We were together about six months, and constantly argued. He accused me of not loving him enough on nearly a daily basis. No matter what I did or what I said it never was good enough. I gave him all I was capable of giving and it wasn't enough. The last argument we'd had I'd left his house shaking, my hands trembling. I needed a fix and I needed it now. He'd ripped my heart to shreds. He'd shattered it, not merely being content with tearing it in two. When I got to my apartment I took out the razors, my best, my closest friends. They helped me, they let me feel. They never turned on me, never argued with me. Cutting into my thighs I let every word, every phrase my boyfriend had ever said negatively to me come out. By the time I was done I was covered in those tiny cuts. That's when I realized he was right. The cuts were more important than he was, I loved them more than I loved him and probably always would.

“Okay Whitlock, but let me know if you change your mind. I think you'd really like him.” Emmett said and I nodded. We went back to our real work though and I threw myself into it, grateful to have something else to think about, at least for a while.

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