Used to Love 'Em

He put the extra supplies back into his bag and took out the little white container of pills that was in his bag and put them into his pocket, yes they were indeed the same pills that he had given Slash, and they were here to serve another purpose, for another person. He zipped up the black bag and swung it over his shoulders before he flushed the toilet, just in case there was anyone else in there before he opened the door and looking around. Upon noticing that no-one else was in there he proceeded out of the bathroom, not bothering to wash his hands, after all he hadn’t gone to the bathroom, so why would he wash his hands. He walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to the lobby area, thankfully his luggage was still there, and still in one piece, or at least from this distance it looked like it was on one piece. The old man that had probably long since taken a seat at the desk gave him a suspicious look, probably because he did not recognize him. He nodded his head at him before he picked up his suitcase and left the building. He put it down once he got to the sidewalk, now to find his old house. The taxi driver had said that Lafayette high school was only a block or so away, he went the way that the taxi driver had pointed, dragging his suitcase behind him, well he was not dragging it per say, it was rolling along but every once in a while it would hit one of those nasty cracks or ruts in the sidewalk and then it would trip over and he’d drag it for a little bit until he got frustrated and kick it back over It was a routine at the moment, and it probably was going to be routine for the rest of the walk. It was not cold outside, well as warm as you could get for ten-thirty in the morning, which of course was not all that warm. As he turned the corner and a car zoomed by nearly hitting him he could now see the school where he had attended and dropped out soon after enrolling, and then taken off to LA, the places where musician’s dreams seemed to come true. Or for him they did and for many other musicians as well. LA was the place to be, it was the place to start and gain a reputation at first before you got sighed so you had a small fan base but a fan base none the less.

There it was up ahead Lafayette high school, the little brown building where so many people had graduated and began their lives, and left their childhoods behind once and for all. The exterior had changed plenty of times in the following years since Axl had departed Lafayette, it had once been a small white building, now it had at least doubled in size, and turned brown, obviously a paint job. An extension had been added on due to the growing number of students it took on every year. He took a turn before he managed to get a good look at the high school like he cared what it looked like anyways it was nothing to him, just another building to in the town that he had escaped from. Before it had trapped him in its clutches. From where he was he could see the church where he had once sung as a choir boy and where his singing career had all began as a joke. He had learned to sing in different ranging to confuse the minister who had been teaching lessons at the time, he had always thought there were more students than the ones that were present after all there had been more voices then people, or more different sounding people. That was where his singing career had all began, not at home, not at school but at the church, the thing that he had dropped like a sack of mouldy vegetables at the first chance he got. He never wanted to be a choirboy but it had gotten him so far, he was more or less indebted to the church for getting him to sing, for forcing him into the choir. He was also indebted to his asshole father, his mother and his son of a bitch step father because they had all played there parts in his life. His dad had left him and allowed his abusive step-father to take his place, forcing Axl out of the house, making him turn to the church when he had no-where else to go, and his mother. His mother that had just stood there and watched silently as Axl was beaten again and again and called names. Oh yes they too had played there part in who he was today, the bitter cold person he was today. His house had been situated in the middle of the church and Lafayette high school, right stuck in the middle, giving him quite a few of the teenagers that would go by when he was young, giving him prime access to whatever he wanted, drugs, sex, and alcohol. Before he knew it he stood in front of his old house, the house that he had grown up in, the house that all the memories had been left in once he had simply gone. His room which he had hardly taken anything except for his bandana’s which he had worn back then, and a few pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts. That was it, all he had taken before he left and he could almost bet money that it was the same as the day that he had left. He would bet a million dollars because he knew that his step-dad nor his mother would ever venture in there because they had no reason too, as simple as that.

He stood outside the house for a few minutes, just looking at the house in which he had grown up in. Since he had left the house had of course worsened in condition, his mother had passed away leaving the drunken ass-wipe he called a step-father living there. The brown pain had began to peel off long ago and now there had hardly been any left, the veranda had a few holes in it, probably where someone had put there foot through the rotting wood. He pulled his suite case onto the grass and dropped it, to call it grass would have been an overstatement because it was just dirty, dirt where a few weeds were growing and a few blades of glass had survived over the years of being abused. In the corner he could see that the hose was no-longer attached to the facet and the facet had long since rusted, it would be a miracle if he could turn it without it breaking off. The fence that had once contained their backyard and even held a dog once or two once in Axl’s life time had nearly fallen over, it was lying crooked so that of Axl chose too he could simply take a step over it, it had probably gotten pushed over due to the years of abuse and the snowfall that Indiana received once or twice a year. To say that his stepfather hadn’t looked after anything would be an understatement, he had essentially destroyed or helped destroy the property where Axl’s childhood memories had grown, and now faded.

He surveyed the wreckage that he had once called his home, unsure if he wanted to go up and knock on the door like he had planned or if he just wanted to abandon ship and give up, maybe come back again another day, when he was ready to see what wreckage lay inside.

“What a pussy thing to do.” Axl told himself, how could he do that, how could he come all the way down here and be prepared to do this and then walk away, chicken out at the last moment? That was a pussy thing to do, he was not supposed to have second thoughts about this stuff, he knew what he was about to do, he had decided to do this long ago.
He cleared his throat and looked around. Yes he had made up his mind long ago; he knew what he had to do. He had decided this long ago and he was not about to pussy out at the last minute, no way in hell, because that was no Axl Rose, that was Bill Bailey, the boy who was afraid of everything, and the one who had sang in the church choir, he was Axl Rose now, fearless, cold and emotionless. He knew what he had to do. He had indeed made up his mind long ago. He looked around again, making sure that there was no-one else around which there was not there was no-one in sight anywhere, and it was dead quite. Well of course it is, it is tem thirty ion the morning on a Tuesday most people are at work, or at school. He looked at his suite case which hadn’t moved an inch, like had expected it to walk away or something silly like that. He was stalling, because he was afraid.

“Get over it already.” He told himself out loud as he walked up the three steps to the front door. The wood creaked under his feet and it made him feel uneasy, like it was going to break through it any moment. Yeah right, he was not that fucking fat. He lifted his hand a placed it against the wood hesitating for another moment before he knocked, not once, not twice but three times.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The sound was hollow as he rapping his knuckles against the ancient dark wood. Inside the house he could hear footsteps and the drunken mumblings of a familiar voice, a voice he knew very well, especially when it whispered into his ear about how if he did anything stupid again his punishment would be much much more severe. He heard swearing coming from behind the door as the footsteps got louder, Axl stepped back from the door, not wanting to shock the elderly man. Not that was not the reason that he had stepped back, it was because he was afraid. Because Axl Rose was fearful of the man behind the door, the man he knew as his stepfather. He could hear as the deadbolt was lifted and the lock was turned and then the door swung inwards revealing a man with gray and white hair and a gaunt face and sunken eyes. He eyed Axl warily.

“Hi Dad.” Axl said after a moment of silence, he called him Dad out of a habit, not because he wanted too, but because once when it was a small child he had gotten beaten for calling him Mr. Bailey, once he had found out that the man was not his real father, it was a great relief to him.

“William? Is that you?” The man asked in a crackling voice, he sounded like a fire as it devoured wood and paper hungrily, the crackling, the snapping as it fed away. He eyed Axl warily trying to get a sense of what was it. His eyes were cloudy and he seemed to be drunk, imagine that! Drunk already! At ten o’clock in the morning and Axl was almost fifty, imagine that! A seventy-plus year old drinking and already what seemed to be drunk at ten-thirty in the fucking morning.

“Yep, it is me.” Axl replied in a flat tone, not bothering to mention that he had changed his name legally over fifteen years ago. He had mentioned it before but someone obviously hadn’t been paying attention, they had been too busy pouring as much alcohol down their throats as fast as possible

“What are you doing here son?” He asked in a surprisingly clear tone, he did not sound drunk...then why were his eyes all cloudy? Maybe he had cataracts or something like that; did not they make your eyes all cloudy and such?

“It is a long story, but I was wondering if maybe I could come and we could talk for a bit? Just father to son?” Axl asked as he snuck his hand into his pocket and felt the tiny vile of pills, he couldn’t wait to do this, now that he had finally gotten enough guts to ring the door bell he couldn’t wait, he just couldn’t.

“Of course, of course come in.” His dad said as he nodded his head and stepped aside letting Axl step through the narrow doorway, the house was a mess he could already tell. “Sorry that it is such a mess, I haven’t had time since your mother died.” He apologized as Axl held back a minuscule groan, of course that was it. His mom had passed away three years ago and every time he visited it was always the same excuse, he did not have enough time, because he was always fucking drinking. Axl slid his shoes off, trying not to think about what foul things his feet might come in contact with in the disgusting house.. “I am sure you remember where everything is.” His father said as he led Axl through the house, indeed he did remember where everything was, because in the years since he had left not a single thing had changed, everything was right where he remembered, even his mothers china which looked as though it had never been taken out of it is cabinets, which come to think of it, it probably hadn’t. Or at least not since his mother’s death. It was strange, Axl would have thought that the china-where would have gone to his sister, instead of remaining in this dark, dingy house with this son of a bitch.

“Of course I do, it is just like yesterday, I was here.” Axl said as he looked around, the place was a mess, and by Axl’s standard’s that had to be messy. Messy probably did not do the house justice the word he would use to describe the house was Motley-looking, yes he went there. Yes it was that bad. “Maybe we should sit down and have a few drinks or something before we start to talk.” Axl suggested and like he thought he watched his dad’s face light up like a little kid on Christmas.

“Of course son, I think that’s a great idea!” He said as he clapped Axl on the back and led him to the tiny living room with the kitchen next to it, they did not have a dining room, Axl never really remembered them sitting together to have a supper, normally he was in his room and his sister, Amy was in her room while his mom and his step-dad argued downstairs and his mom’s screams echoed up to him. Just thinking about the memory made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“I’ll make them, you just sit down and find something to watch.” Axl said as he patted his Step father on the back, please look. Step father, not father, not dad. Step father, because he was not Axl’s biological father, he was indeed the step father from hell. His step –father beamed at him as he shuffled over to the couch while Axl went straight to the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of rum that was in the same cupboard he had been in when he lived here. He obviously had been in that cupboard a lot; after all he had been drinking for the better part of his life. He got a diet coke out of the fridge and tried to hide his look of disgust. Diet coke, what nasty shit that his step-father was drinking. He got a few of what looked like clean glasses out of the cupboard, he didn’t care if they were clean, he didn’t plan to be drinking from his cup at all. He would not have any and then he’d simply blame it on an upset stomach. He poured what he thought was the satisfactory amount of rum into the glass before taking out the pills and twisting the cap off before dropping not one but two into the glass and then pouring coke overtop of it, just to ensure that they did dissolve, he did the same to his glass. After all he would not be drinking it, and it was better to have a backup, just in case. “Here you go Dad.” He said as he took both glasses in both his hands, taking extreme caution not to spill a single solitary drop. He still had his bag slung over his shoulder and was not about to drop it, after all that was something that could be used against him. Something well he’d rather not have used against him, ever.

His dad took the drink from Axl and nodded his head as he sipped it, watching as Axl took a seat on the couch across from him, waiting for his step-father to speak first He was more or less interested and ready to speak about whatever his dad wanted too. After all he did know exactly was what going to go down. They sat across from each other for a few minutes, just watching the others moves, rather intently, as if studying each other.

“So what have you been up to over the year’s son?” His dad asked as he took a longer drink, drinking quite a lot of alcohol. Axl hid a smirk, he already knew that the pills were beginning to take their affect; they were already working his way into his system, coursing through his veins and arteries, getting close and close to serving their purpose with every second that passed.

“Nothing, just been doing what I love to do.” Axl replied thinking it over for a minute afterwards, yeah that was really everything that he had been up too. Just making music, and going through band members like there was no tomorrow. That was it. “What have you been up too Dad?” He asked as he changed the tables around, that’s what he wanted to know, what his oh so lovely stepfather had been up too over the years. He casted a look around the living room, even with the lights out it was hardly lit, he could barely see his step-fathers face from the chair he was sitting in. It was a mess, the carpet looked as though it had been stained many colors, like it would be soon. This time though it would be stained with red, stained with the red of his step father blood instead of his mothers. Instead of his and his sisters blood which had ran down their backs like water ran down a hill and it dripped slowly onto the floor whenever they had misbehaved. Whenever they had done something in his eyes that was not good. That could be something simple now-a-days such as refusing to eat there over cooked mushy vegetables.

“I haven’t been up too much, just been sticking around here, no job anymore since the factory’s been shut down.” His dad said as he took another longer drink, the glass his glass was nearly half empty now; he would not have to wait much longer until. He could practically see his elderly step father as he passed out on the couch; he could hardly wait for it to happen because then he was ready. He knew where the steak knives were kept, the first drawer and the meat cleaver that he had seen many a times when he dad would take it out and threaten someone, usually his mother with it. It was in the drawer next to the steak knives, oh yes he could hardly wait. He was practically licking his chops over the anticipation! Axl nodded his head, yes indeed the factory had been shut down and his step father had lost his job. Not like he had showed up there much. Hardly ever to be exact, it was a blessing that it had closed down before he had gotten fired, because he surely would have, after all going to work only once a week, maybe.

"Well I am just glad your back here to visit your old man!" He said as he lifted his cup up. "To this! Family!" he said as Axl picked up his glass, they clinked glasses and Axl watched as his dad took a long drink before putting his cup down, it was nearly empty, it couldn't be long now. Not long at all until it began to affect him, not long at all. Axl casted a glance around the house, waiting for his dad to speak, in one corner he could see the beer bottles piled high, that would be quite a sum of money if he was to bring them into a bottle depot, maybe he would do that later, if the time allowed him too. No he would not be able too, he did not have the time too, and he did not have a car here either, nothing. Axl watched the man for a period of time as he slowly got fuzzy eyed and his eyes glazed over as he finished his drink.

"Do you want another one?" Axl asked a few moments after he had finished his, he hadn't touched his; he had wanted too but he hadn't needed to. He did not want to be drugged up like his father, he wanted to remember every single moment of it.

"No, no I'm fine, I feel a tad funny after that one." The old man said as he shook his head slowly and made himself comfortable on the couch, Axl could see that it was a struggle to keep his eyes open, it couldn't be long now, not long at all.

Axl got up and took the old man's glass carrying his too and putting them both on the edge of the counter, running the water, trying to make as much time pass as possible, giving his step father enough time for the drugs to take effect, hoping that they would take affect soon, or as soon as the time allowed. He was getting excited just thinking about it, after all soon it would be his turn to get even with the man who had tortured him all the years of his childhood and essentially taken away his childhood. The one who had called him useless and worthless, the pone that had beaten him as well as his mother and sister. The one who had thrown him out when he had grown his red hair long and held it back with a bandana. The one who had gotten him to flee to LA and drop out of Lafayette high school. The one who had certainly given him the chance to leave Lafayette. Would he have left Lafayette if he had a real father instead of a drunken man? That was a good question, he did not know the answer to it, maybe he still would have, maybe he would have with Izzy, or maybe he would have stayed. Who knew what would have happened, Axl sure did not and he did not pretend to be a know it all.

He peeked over the kitchen counter as his old man’s eyes slowly drooped shut and he grew silent, he was still moving but he was still silent. Axl waited for a few moments just to make sure he was not actually awake, nothing happened. Nobody moved. The television blared on about the Colts and how there were going to be in tip-top shape that year but that was it. Axl was silent as so was his step-father, It was perfect.

“Dad are you up” He asked as opened the drawer pulling out the huge meat cleaver and slipping it up his sleeve, ignoring how much it was paining him to do so. His dad did not answer. Axl slowly advanced, waiting to see his dad make a move or open his eyes in which case Axl would just act normal and then proceed to go and sit back down, ignoring at the cleaver cut into his arm. He dad did not move, even as Axl got closer and closer and closer. Under his foot a beer can was compacted making a crunching nose, he could feel the pain in his foot, but he ignored it, this was more important than any nicks he got. He would just have to remember to clean it up before he left, and dispose of it, far away from here. His dad made no moments as Axl slid the cleaver out of his sleeve and stepped in front of the old man’s face. He studied it, the wrinkles, indeed he had been a handsome man when he was younger, but the years had hardened his face, and no longer was he good looking, He gave a smirk, oh we would not be looking anywhere pretty soon. Axl put the knife down on the floor and then walked to his feet, putting him into a laying position on the couch, and pulling his feet down until he was flat on his back. He watched for a moment, just to make sure he did not move or anything, nothing happened. He walked back and picking up the knife, making sure to keep an eye on his step father the entire time. He was not moving instead for the steady rising of his chest. That was it. And he would not be doing it for much longer. He changed his grip on the knife, trying to find a comfortable but affective way to hold it as he advanced on the passed out man. Now the drugs surely had to take effect, it had been at least half an hour since he had first indigested them, he had to be out by now, but he couldn’t be sure, after all it did take anywhere from half an hour to forty five minutes before it was completely sure that they were out. Completely a hundred percent that was. A part of Axl wanted his stepfather to wake up, he wanted to see his stepfathers face the sheer look of horror that would quickly appear on his face as he realized what his step-son was about to do. That would be wonderful, it would be more then wonderful, and it would be fantastic. Of course nothing happened and Axl could see, it he was an old man, the life had practically left him before he had got there; this was just something to help him. That was why the drugs had taken such a short amount of time to take effect, because he was old, his heart beat was feeble, almost nonexistent. With a bloodthirsty look Axl pointed the knife at his jugular he hesitated right before he cut it. No, no, that would be a too simple of a way to go, it would be painless, and it would be clean. The last thing Axl had wanted was for this to be a nice clean murder, one stroke and you are done. No he wanted to drag it out; he wanted his step father to suffer, even if he was not awake, he wanted there to be blood, lots and lots of blood. Oh yes. Axl slowly went down to the old man’s wrists, roiling up his sleeves before gently running the blade across it, a thin red line appeared as the blood began to appear in tiny beads, no that was not enough to satisfy Axl’s desire to see blood.

He pressed the cleaver against the old man’s wrist, waiting, almost expecting him to stir and to open his eyes. Axl would have loved to see that, to see his face as he delivered a quick but fatal blow to the heart. Pressing harder he drew another line a across his wrist, another line appeared on his wrist, this time it was darker and the blood was already starting to leak out. He decided to change tactics, he dug the tip into the man’s arm, where the vein was and pressing quite hard drew a long ;line, following the vein or artery up his arm, slipping it wide open. The blood began to gush out and finally a smirk appeared on his face, now he was really cracking this shit down. He reached to get to the other one, trying his hardest to avoid the growing pile of blood that had pooled on the couch and was steadily dripping onto the floor. The carpet grew a darker shade of red, there were already blood stains on the carpet, ones that he had left, ones that his mother had left, because of the man that now lay before hi, the man who’s life Axl was about to take. He reached to the other arm and slowly rolled up the sleeve, drawing a few criss-crossing lines on his arm, lightly, watching as the red lines began to appear. He then did the same as the other arm, digging the top into the vein or artery, artery, that’s what it was and dragging it up his arm. Again the blood began to spill out everywhere, already beginning to stain the shirt he was wearing, quickly Axl pulled the sleeve back over the cuts, after all the blood was going to continue to bleed out, it was already beginning to stain his shirt. Now for the final thing, his jugular. That would be the final thing; Axl would watch almost gleefully as the blood spilled out like a water fall and ran everywhere.

“This is it, how do you like that you bastard?” Axl questioned as his hand began to shake as he moved the knife against the old man’s skin. His skin was like parchment, it was nearly translucent, but not quiet, it had gotten paler as the cuts were distributed throughout his body,. “How do you like that, you son of a bitch? How does it feel? Now you are the he one getting hurt, you are the one who is getting trapped and cut to pieces you piece of shit. after everything you did, you still thought you are fine? You still thought that you were my Father. How fucking dare you, I think you deserve it, you do you son of a bitch.”Axl said as he pointed the knife threateningly at the sleeping man, the sleeping old man whose life was almost over whose life was fading away soon, and it was only mere seconds before it was snuffed out. Like a candle in the cold winter wind. That was what was going to happen, soon, very soon indeed. Axl put the knife against his throat and then drew a straight line across it, cutting it open, wide open. As predicted the blood spilled out like water did out of a water fall, it poured down his shirt, staining it crimson. It was perfect,

it was exactly what Axl wanted and now it was time for him to go. He had finished what he had came to do, now it was time for him to go. He quickly pulled his long sleeves over this hands and then took the bleach that was sitting under the kitchen sink, making careful as to not touch the container with his bare hands, he ran the water in the sink and then carefully put the drain in and with a smooth motion put the bleach into the sink and threw both glasses in there as well as the knife. The murder weapon, the police would come in, they would more than likely drain the sink, and the water would remove all the fingerprints as well as the bleach with remove the blood in the tip of the knife. He quickly left the house, not bothering to turn off the television or clean up anything, the bigger the mess, the better, the sooner he would be found, and within hours he could be gone, simply as that. He slipped on his shoes and using the sleeve open and then slammed the door behind him, his luggage was lying on the grass, right where he had left it just over an hour ago. His taxi ride was no-where in sight though, which meant he would have to wait. He would have to run the risk of someone seeing him as he left, the murder scene, Yes murder scene that was what is was now, not a house but a murder scene, sure at one point in time it had been his house, but not anymore. There was nothing else he needed, he was done with it, he did not need to go back at all. Not ever. He toyed with the handle of his luggage bag impatiently before he looked down at his shirt, It had some blood splattered across it, he did not think it would be a good idea for the taxi driver, luckily for him, the blood had just gotten on the shirt underneath him, just his t-shirt, not his sweater, his sweater was fine,. Which meant that he`d be able to get in the cab, he`d just have to make sure his sweater was all zipped up, he would just have to change at the airport, as soon as he got there and before he went through the security gates, because he highly doubted that they would be okay as to let him go with a blood stained t-shirt. They would more than likely call the cops and then things would just go downhill from there. The cab showed up right as he was zipping up his sweater, it was covered up all the blood. It was covered up, he would be okay, thankfully he had packed a extra t-shirt and jeans to change into, and it wouldn`t be out of his way since he would have to take off all the crap that he was wearing all over his face. He dragged his suite case and went up to the taxi who`s window was rolled down and waiting expectantly for Axl to hurry up so he could just leave.