Violent Kisses and Violent Minds
Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter Forty Seven:
Out of the icy night, a figure emerged. He crept silently along the cracked concrete of the umpteenth lane he had walked down in the past twenty-four hours. His legs ached and sweat clung to his flesh and hair despite the eerily chilli night time breeze. As the wind swept his red hair into his face for what felt like the literal millionth time, he reached a hand up subconsciously but halted its movements halfway. Something had caught his eye at the end of the lane. He squinted in attempt to get a better view of it. Yes, it was what he had expected.
Of course, he shouldn’t be shocked by this, nor should he get his hopes up. He had opened the dirty lids of countless smelly dumpsters in search for his love, as odd as it sounds. He waltzed over to this one, all hope abandoned, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop searching.
It’s not going to be this one. This is just going to be another empty dumpster… well, empty except for the trash. Ah, Jesus Fuck, my legs hurt.
He extended a rather pasty arm and gripped the edge of the dumpster tightly in both hands. With one soaring movement it opened to reveal -
“Sonny!”
- No, it couldn’t be… this isn’t him, this isn’t my Sonny Bunny… Sonny is happy, and lively, and… smiley… giggly… this isn’t him… not this, not the sobbing, shaking, sweating boy in the dumpster… no… there’s no way…
The frail looking boy turned his head, his sobbing not ceasing. “D-d-d-d-er-rek-k,” the boy, who was undoubtedly (undoubtedly, even though he was hardly recognisable in this state) Sonny Moore spoke in a stuttering voice as a result of the constant chattering of his well placed teeth.
“Sonny! Oh, Sonny, I can’t believe I found you! Oh, Sonny! I’m so glad you’re there! Oh, are you all right?”
“D-D-Derek - st-stay away from m-me!” Sonny exclaimed in a voice that came out abnormally dry and squeaky.
“No, Sonny, you don’t understand… you couldn’t possibly think that I’ve done all this, do you?” Derek asked, his voice growing dry like Sonny’s.
Sonny didn’t reply, just turned his body back around, facing the back of the dumpster again and moving as if he were in pain, which told Derek everything he needed to know. He, himself, gave a choked sob.
“Sonny… no… I swear… I swear to God it’s not me… please, please Sonny, you’ve got to believe me…” Derek begged, a tear sliding effortlessly down his shining moonlit face.
Sonny replied by doing nothing more than his continual sobs.
“Sonny, I’ve known you for years. You can’t honestly believe that I’d torture you, torment you like this.”
Sonny slowly turned around and began to rise; Derek honestly didn’t know whether Sonny was going to punch him, hug him, or run away. He loyally chose the second option, wrapping his small arms around Derek, his hands resting lightly on the back of Derek’s neck. Sonny was still shaking violently.
“Don’t shake, I hate to see you tremble,” said Derek, leaning into Sonny and wrapping his arms lovingly around his boy.
“Sonny Bunny…”
“I love you, Derek.”
“I love you too, Sonny.”
At the hospital, Matt was as comfortable as possible in one of the hospital’s many rooms; his bloody mess of a leg had been tended to. Travis and Jess set off as Matt drifted off to sleep to see Simone and inform her of all the frightening new things that had happened.
Upon arriving in her room, however, they found it impossible to get through to her in a logical sense.
“Simone! We have so much to tell you!” Jess gasped. Travis shut the door behind him when he passed through to this side of the frame.
Simone stared at them for a few seconds with a blank expression on her face.
“Simone?”
After another moment of blank, staring silence from Simone’s end of it, she finally said something: “Quack quack!”
“Simone? What the hell? Just listen, okay!” Jess began telling the story, but only got a few sentences in before Travis let out a nervous cough and tapped Jess on the shoulder, get her attention.
He whispered to her, “I don’t think she’s listening…”
“Somehow, I don’t think so either,” she whispered back.
Simone was looking around the room, and had now tucked her arms up under her underarm to create ‘wings’, like a ‘duck’.
“Simone? Simone! Cut it out!”
“Quack quack quack! Quack quack COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”
The short silence that followed ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ caused both Travis and Jess to believe that Simone had finished with the bird talk, but, no…
“QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUAAAAAAKKK!”
“Simone! Shut up!” Travis yelled, because nothing else seemed to be working. She was now flapping her ‘wings’ around and trying to get up from her bed, but her feet were tangled in the sheets and she still had the odd cord connecting her to a machine, leaving her bed-bound.
“What is wrong with her?” Travis and Jess asked each other at once, with matching concerned expressions. All they knew was... there was something really wrong with the way Simone was acting.
Out of the icy night, a figure emerged. He crept silently along the cracked concrete of the umpteenth lane he had walked down in the past twenty-four hours. His legs ached and sweat clung to his flesh and hair despite the eerily chilli night time breeze. As the wind swept his red hair into his face for what felt like the literal millionth time, he reached a hand up subconsciously but halted its movements halfway. Something had caught his eye at the end of the lane. He squinted in attempt to get a better view of it. Yes, it was what he had expected.
Of course, he shouldn’t be shocked by this, nor should he get his hopes up. He had opened the dirty lids of countless smelly dumpsters in search for his love, as odd as it sounds. He waltzed over to this one, all hope abandoned, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop searching.
It’s not going to be this one. This is just going to be another empty dumpster… well, empty except for the trash. Ah, Jesus Fuck, my legs hurt.
He extended a rather pasty arm and gripped the edge of the dumpster tightly in both hands. With one soaring movement it opened to reveal -
“Sonny!”
- No, it couldn’t be… this isn’t him, this isn’t my Sonny Bunny… Sonny is happy, and lively, and… smiley… giggly… this isn’t him… not this, not the sobbing, shaking, sweating boy in the dumpster… no… there’s no way…
The frail looking boy turned his head, his sobbing not ceasing. “D-d-d-d-er-rek-k,” the boy, who was undoubtedly (undoubtedly, even though he was hardly recognisable in this state) Sonny Moore spoke in a stuttering voice as a result of the constant chattering of his well placed teeth.
“Sonny! Oh, Sonny, I can’t believe I found you! Oh, Sonny! I’m so glad you’re there! Oh, are you all right?”
“D-D-Derek - st-stay away from m-me!” Sonny exclaimed in a voice that came out abnormally dry and squeaky.
“No, Sonny, you don’t understand… you couldn’t possibly think that I’ve done all this, do you?” Derek asked, his voice growing dry like Sonny’s.
Sonny didn’t reply, just turned his body back around, facing the back of the dumpster again and moving as if he were in pain, which told Derek everything he needed to know. He, himself, gave a choked sob.
“Sonny… no… I swear… I swear to God it’s not me… please, please Sonny, you’ve got to believe me…” Derek begged, a tear sliding effortlessly down his shining moonlit face.
Sonny replied by doing nothing more than his continual sobs.
“Sonny, I’ve known you for years. You can’t honestly believe that I’d torture you, torment you like this.”
Sonny slowly turned around and began to rise; Derek honestly didn’t know whether Sonny was going to punch him, hug him, or run away. He loyally chose the second option, wrapping his small arms around Derek, his hands resting lightly on the back of Derek’s neck. Sonny was still shaking violently.
“Don’t shake, I hate to see you tremble,” said Derek, leaning into Sonny and wrapping his arms lovingly around his boy.
“Sonny Bunny…”
“I love you, Derek.”
“I love you too, Sonny.”
At the hospital, Matt was as comfortable as possible in one of the hospital’s many rooms; his bloody mess of a leg had been tended to. Travis and Jess set off as Matt drifted off to sleep to see Simone and inform her of all the frightening new things that had happened.
Upon arriving in her room, however, they found it impossible to get through to her in a logical sense.
“Simone! We have so much to tell you!” Jess gasped. Travis shut the door behind him when he passed through to this side of the frame.
Simone stared at them for a few seconds with a blank expression on her face.
“Simone?”
After another moment of blank, staring silence from Simone’s end of it, she finally said something: “Quack quack!”
“Simone? What the hell? Just listen, okay!” Jess began telling the story, but only got a few sentences in before Travis let out a nervous cough and tapped Jess on the shoulder, get her attention.
He whispered to her, “I don’t think she’s listening…”
“Somehow, I don’t think so either,” she whispered back.
Simone was looking around the room, and had now tucked her arms up under her underarm to create ‘wings’, like a ‘duck’.
“Simone? Simone! Cut it out!”
“Quack quack quack! Quack quack COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!”
The short silence that followed ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ caused both Travis and Jess to believe that Simone had finished with the bird talk, but, no…
“QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUAAAAAAKKK!”
“Simone! Shut up!” Travis yelled, because nothing else seemed to be working. She was now flapping her ‘wings’ around and trying to get up from her bed, but her feet were tangled in the sheets and she still had the odd cord connecting her to a machine, leaving her bed-bound.
“What is wrong with her?” Travis and Jess asked each other at once, with matching concerned expressions. All they knew was... there was something really wrong with the way Simone was acting.