Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2016 13:24:57 GMT
He sat on the floor, back resting against the wall of the room, arm propped up on his kneecap, and a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. He stared straight ahead, watching her sleep peacefully, her head rested on a pillow and a thin sheet barely covering the smoothness of her naked body. His eyes were locked on her as he brought the cancer stick to his lips and inhaled the toxic chemicals into his system.
Dream, Georgia.
She was innocent, and he knew without a doubt she was in way over her head. She didn't see the world as he did; no, she saw the world as polka dots and fucking rainbows. Everybody, no matter who they were, had a little good in them. Fucking garbage. That was her thought process, and the harsh reality of it all was that she was wrong, but who could blame her; she had had a sheltered life, attended private schools, and lived in gated communities—she'd lived the life of the rich, which was enough to blind her to the truth. He didn't blame her, but for a second time in his life, the villain felt bad for somebody, and he felt almost sick. Compassion was a feeling that he hated to feel.
He ashed his cigarette on the floor and let his head fall back, making a thud against the wall as his eyes traveled upward, meeting the ceiling as he exhaled. A cloud of smoke lingered just above.
He wasn't innocent, nowhere close. God, no. He was an evil man and truly lived up to the name of the villain. Most thought villains only exist in the movies, but he was the real deal. He was a murderer, a thief, and if Satan walked the earth, he’d be toe to toe with him on the same playing field. He preferred to hurt people, rather than to help. It was just in his nature. It was who he fucking was. A monster.
His concentration broke; she was up, crossing the room towards him. She had the thin sheet wrapped around her body as she took a seat beside him, snuggling up close to him, and let her head rested on his shoulder.
“I'm scared,” she said in almost a whisper.
You should be, he thought to himself, but instead of relaying the words for her to hear, he chose not to respond. He couldn’t take the fear away.
She was going to die; that was the truth. Her brother, Shawn DeLise, her own flesh and blood, would kill her. Kill his own sister, for what, because she earned what she got. He wasted his fucking life away, while she made something of her life. He was envious, to a small degree. Even though Georgia was rich, she was normal in his books, and she still worked her ass off to lay her own print in society, no matter how much fucking money her parents had -- not like the Blakes, Chaoses, or Smalls of the world. Which!
The duo of Mondae Chaos and Arianny Blake would kill her, one for the pure love of death on her hands, and the other, he was pretty sure, because of jealousy and some other fucked-up issues he hadn’t figured out.
He couldn't protect her; he couldn’t save her from the ultimate end because the truth was he would kill her. He either killed people around him, or people around him died. It was the way of life for him, and fuck was it getting old.
She cupped his chin with her hands and pulled his head so they were looking into one another's eyes. She saw him as her knight in shining armor, her prince, but if only she knew who he really was, she’d run. If only she would see, she would know. He was her worst nightmare and played a part in the ending of her story--her upcoming, bloody demise.
She studied him, “What’s up? You seem somewhat bothered. What is going on inside of that mind of yours, Jack?”
Death.
Carnage.
More Death.
“Nothing,” he responded, pulling his chin from her fingers and taking another puff of the almost pure filter cigarette.
He put the cigarette out in a cup right beside him as she laid her head back down on his shoulder.
“What do you think I should do?” she asked.
He chewed on his lip and found himself staring across the room.
“Fuckin’ run.”
“I won’t run and hide Jack. I’ve worked so hard for this, and I won’t allow or give Shawn, Arianny, or Mondae, or anybody for that matter, the satisfaction of that. No matter how much I might be scared, I was raised not to cower but to face my fears head on. This is my company, not theirs.”
Stupid Georgia.
He shook his head; he had tried; it was sound advice, but she still didn’t understand how bad her situation was.
Wake up, Georgia.
“Anyways, won’t you protect me and watch my back?”
He adjusted his arm and placed it around her, not responding again. He didn’t make promises because the one time he had made a promise, he let a little girl down. She had almost died because of him. The one person that fucking mattered in his life, he had almost killed, but it’s not like she died or anything. Fuck you; she could have. A man walks this world alone his entire life, and for one moment, one time, finds just a little hope, and she was almost murdered in cold blood. The thought killed him and drove him mad. Revenge would be bittersweet.
Mackenzie Greene was innocent. She didn’t deserve to die.
Fuck Jack.
Georgia DeLise was innocent too, and she didn’t deserve to die.
Shawn DeLise, Arianny Blake, Mondae Chaos, and Dallas Blake all deserved to die. They would die, they all would die.
Even Georgia.
/End.
Dream, Georgia.
She was innocent, and he knew without a doubt she was in way over her head. She didn't see the world as he did; no, she saw the world as polka dots and fucking rainbows. Everybody, no matter who they were, had a little good in them. Fucking garbage. That was her thought process, and the harsh reality of it all was that she was wrong, but who could blame her; she had had a sheltered life, attended private schools, and lived in gated communities—she'd lived the life of the rich, which was enough to blind her to the truth. He didn't blame her, but for a second time in his life, the villain felt bad for somebody, and he felt almost sick. Compassion was a feeling that he hated to feel.
He ashed his cigarette on the floor and let his head fall back, making a thud against the wall as his eyes traveled upward, meeting the ceiling as he exhaled. A cloud of smoke lingered just above.
He wasn't innocent, nowhere close. God, no. He was an evil man and truly lived up to the name of the villain. Most thought villains only exist in the movies, but he was the real deal. He was a murderer, a thief, and if Satan walked the earth, he’d be toe to toe with him on the same playing field. He preferred to hurt people, rather than to help. It was just in his nature. It was who he fucking was. A monster.
His concentration broke; she was up, crossing the room towards him. She had the thin sheet wrapped around her body as she took a seat beside him, snuggling up close to him, and let her head rested on his shoulder.
“I'm scared,” she said in almost a whisper.
You should be, he thought to himself, but instead of relaying the words for her to hear, he chose not to respond. He couldn’t take the fear away.
She was going to die; that was the truth. Her brother, Shawn DeLise, her own flesh and blood, would kill her. Kill his own sister, for what, because she earned what she got. He wasted his fucking life away, while she made something of her life. He was envious, to a small degree. Even though Georgia was rich, she was normal in his books, and she still worked her ass off to lay her own print in society, no matter how much fucking money her parents had -- not like the Blakes, Chaoses, or Smalls of the world. Which!
The duo of Mondae Chaos and Arianny Blake would kill her, one for the pure love of death on her hands, and the other, he was pretty sure, because of jealousy and some other fucked-up issues he hadn’t figured out.
He couldn't protect her; he couldn’t save her from the ultimate end because the truth was he would kill her. He either killed people around him, or people around him died. It was the way of life for him, and fuck was it getting old.
She cupped his chin with her hands and pulled his head so they were looking into one another's eyes. She saw him as her knight in shining armor, her prince, but if only she knew who he really was, she’d run. If only she would see, she would know. He was her worst nightmare and played a part in the ending of her story--her upcoming, bloody demise.
She studied him, “What’s up? You seem somewhat bothered. What is going on inside of that mind of yours, Jack?”
Death.
Carnage.
More Death.
“Nothing,” he responded, pulling his chin from her fingers and taking another puff of the almost pure filter cigarette.
He put the cigarette out in a cup right beside him as she laid her head back down on his shoulder.
“What do you think I should do?” she asked.
He chewed on his lip and found himself staring across the room.
“Fuckin’ run.”
“I won’t run and hide Jack. I’ve worked so hard for this, and I won’t allow or give Shawn, Arianny, or Mondae, or anybody for that matter, the satisfaction of that. No matter how much I might be scared, I was raised not to cower but to face my fears head on. This is my company, not theirs.”
Stupid Georgia.
He shook his head; he had tried; it was sound advice, but she still didn’t understand how bad her situation was.
Wake up, Georgia.
“Anyways, won’t you protect me and watch my back?”
He adjusted his arm and placed it around her, not responding again. He didn’t make promises because the one time he had made a promise, he let a little girl down. She had almost died because of him. The one person that fucking mattered in his life, he had almost killed, but it’s not like she died or anything. Fuck you; she could have. A man walks this world alone his entire life, and for one moment, one time, finds just a little hope, and she was almost murdered in cold blood. The thought killed him and drove him mad. Revenge would be bittersweet.
Mackenzie Greene was innocent. She didn’t deserve to die.
Fuck Jack.
Georgia DeLise was innocent too, and she didn’t deserve to die.
Shawn DeLise, Arianny Blake, Mondae Chaos, and Dallas Blake all deserved to die. They would die, they all would die.
Even Georgia.
/End.
