Author Topic: in cold blood — truce .  (Read 278 times)

Offline elysian.

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in cold blood — truce .
« on: December 30, 2020, 11:33:43 AM »
luka fox
a
fingertips skimmed over the blade of a knife with a seemingly adoring, careful touch. blood dripped from the knife as water spilled from the sink and over the gleaming weapon. all the while, the bleach-blonde slowly hummed a familiar and haunting tune to himself; the same tune that had echoed throughout deran benson’s halls moments before his brutal murder. pale lips upturned the slightest into a content, borderline-sinister smile as the overwhelming adrenaline washed over him, much like the water over the blood-soaked knife. the satisfaction of a job well done.

luka couldn't help but look back on that night fondly.

what should’ve been any normal night for deran benson, lounging on his couch after a long day of work at the radio station, quickly turned into his worst nightmare. all because of one song request. luka was never one to entertain himself with the glamorized idea of destiny or fate. however, the blond couldn’t help but find great joy in the way one seemingly small decision could make one’s house of cards come falling down. one wrong step, and deran benson’s life quickly unraveled. how pitiful was it that his crew at the station hardly thought anything about his disappearance the day after. how remarkable it must be for the police to soon stumble upon the most beautiful crime scene within deran’s home not too long after. no traces of who could’ve possibly done it.

the memory sat in luka’s head like a pleasant daydream, envisioning the last few terrifying, brutal last moments of the radio host’s life. it was a vision that he couldn’t get out of his head, the beautiful scene playing out nearly every time he closed his eyes. every time he laid his eyes on the darling knife of his, itching to chase a feeling like that all over again. he thought it would’ve killed him, having to stay inside of silas’s home for a while. having to lay low.

grabbing the tv remote away from silas, he wandered over and plopped carelessly down onto the couch, throwing his legs across silas’s lap while the man had previously been sitting peacefully and unbothered. it wasn’t killing luka at all - more so, being in silas’s presence could very well be driving him insane more than anything else. the annoying shitstain of a man beside him ought to consider himself lucky that luka wasn’t particularly a person with the most intact psyche already.

and yet, even as he spoke so ill about the man next to him, as if silas was the last person on earth that he could possibly care about, there was an unfamiliar feeling within his chest whenever he was around him. a feeling that he found particularly unwelcome at times. was it insanity, to feel such a lightness in his chest? was he ever  meant to feel such a heavy, yet simultaneously lightweight emotion? the very feeling - feeling at all - was what was driving him mad. it was sickening, stuck in this limbo of wishing for a feeling to go away while also wanting it to stick around.

“how is your brain not rotting from watching this shitshow?” he pointed out matter-of-factly - pausing for quote-unquote “comedic effect” as he turned his gaze to look at silas - as if realizing that silas’s brain was already completely rotted. he then stared back over at the screen, pointing the clicker at the tv as he started to flip quickly through channels. though, he quickly grew bored with looking for something. with a short sigh, he gave up. tossing the remote silas’s way, he grumbled, “find something better.”

if only luka had been more aware that what they would soon stumble upon would be something far, far worse.

Offline truce.

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Re: in cold blood — truce .
« Reply #1 on: February 14, 2021, 03:01:38 PM »
u rock !
SILAS OVERTON
Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?!

Slumped effortlessly on the sofa, Silas wouldn't dilly-dally before bringing a bowl of cheap macaroni and cheese up to his lips, shovelling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth as vacant eyes stared dully at the television. Silas should've been reeling after last night; they managed to ghost Deran Benson of all people. How fucking awesome was that?! Whilst he couldn't claim to have a literal bucket list handy, Silas could say for certain that ticking a radio celebrity off the list was enthralling.

Next could be a movie star, or perhaps a politician. Silas hated politicians. Ooh, he hated them a lot. If people thought Silas was bad, try listening to a politician for half an hour; they could do a whole deal of damage with their surreptitiously sly dealings and delicate bullshit weaved like poetry. It was enough to make anyone's ears bleed, so a nice little murder would be a blessing in disguise if anything.

The point he wished to make was solely the fact that this should have been it. This should have been the fireworks and party poppers moment in his life, the zenith of career as the most pathetically vile criminal alive. Where was all the action? Where was all the adrenaline? Why was Silas slouched on the couch instead, stomach poking out from beneath his t-shirt as he spooned mouthfuls of plastic-y, cheesy goop into his mouth? Why was he watching a show about housewives?

❝ How is your brain not rotting from watching this shitshow? ❞ And here Luka came strolling in like the cocky bastard he was, Silas sneering up at him through deeply knitted brows before he uttered with a mouthful of food, ❝ Because I'm already brain dead havin' to talk to you everyday. ❞ He turned his head to look back at the television, swallowing his mouthful before adding as an afterthought, ❝ It's actually really tragic. I had so much going for me as well. ❞

Silas couldn't deny the fact he kind of liked the idiot. Sure, Silas could give Luka credit for the most interesting introduction but other than that Silas wouldn't dare to admit a thing to him. Okay — yeah — Silas liked Luka, but what was it to him anyways? It wasn't like Luka would ever reciprocate without hurting Silas' feelings more than making him feel at all loved. Luka wasn't capable of kindness. He was nothing but a body with no heart but a pulse that made the silence of any empty home not so bad after all. He was good for nothing else; just a ticking clock to comfort a lonely dog.

Luka made himself comfortable, kicking his legs up to rest across Silas' lap despite Silas' groans. ❝ Really? ❞ He squeaked, shaking his head before putting his now-empty bowl on the side table. And, just as he straightened up again, he hadn't realised that Luka had managed to grab a hold of the remote control until the channel changed. ❝ I was watching that. ❞ Silas whined half-heartedly but gave up pretty quickly. Instead, he rested his forearms on Luka's shins, shaking his head slowly until Luka handed the remote back Silas' way.

Silas said nothing but gave Luka a bored huff, lifting the remote before he began to flick through channels mindlessly until—

❝ -found around an hour ago when he failed to show up for his evening show. ❞ Oh, they found Deran quickly. ❝ Huh. ❞ Silas hummed, tossing the remote aside as he watched the television screen, eyes dazzling with pride as he watched the news report until a video showed up on the screen, pausing on two identifiable faces in a security camera inside Benson's home. He could barely register the sound of the reporter's voice after that, instead a heavy ringing noise buzzing in his ears as he tensed up in horror. ❝ -suspects appear to be two men in their late twenties, early thirties. They left Benson's home just after midnight and- ❞ Shit...

Yeah. Shit.

❝ Ah, balls. ❞ Silas uttered under his breath before whipping his head to gawk at Luka, eyes darting over his features worriedly. ❝ We can't stay here. ❞ He mumbled softly, lips parted before pushing Luka's legs off of his lap so that he could stand up. ❝ We need to take my car and get outta here. Look at how clear that footage is of us! ❞

He gestured to the footage of their getaway on the television before he kicked at the coffee table, ❝ Fuck! Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?! ❞ Restlessly, Silas paced the living room before jabbing a pointer finger towards his bedroom. ❝ Pack a bag. We're leaving now. ❞
I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303

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