What the frag am I smoking in my sleep?
Title: Touch
Rating: T
Warnings: I have no fucking idea, I swear to god a psych student would have a field day with me and my writing moods.
There was barely a sigh and it all came undone. Wailing, screaming, sobbing, and begging; before that sticky wet thump so soft yet so loud came into clear focus. Room tilting, whirling, fading into colors and grays before draining away into a murky coppery smell and sight. Then the beating starts the low thump. Thump. Thump. Increasing in tempo as the smell seeps and fills into every pore knowing deep down it will never go away. Layer after layer it clogs to surface as a reminder at odd times when thoughts are peaceful.
Then the white paper with dripping black ink. Like a child learning to write with a paintbrush.
We meet again Jace.
And nothing more as tanned and scarred fingers lift off the piece of bloodstained cloth and confirm to the unknown shape in the crisp blue uniform; yes it was that man again. Always one step ahead of them all and the only one who can seem to see into the pattern of this serial killer is one who can only see into the mind of the past.
Rating: T
Warnings: I have no fucking idea, I swear to god a psych student would have a field day with me and my writing moods.
There was barely a sigh and it all came undone. Wailing, screaming, sobbing, and begging; before that sticky wet thump so soft yet so loud came into clear focus. Room tilting, whirling, fading into colors and grays before draining away into a murky coppery smell and sight. Then the beating starts the low thump. Thump. Thump. Increasing in tempo as the smell seeps and fills into every pore knowing deep down it will never go away. Layer after layer it clogs to surface as a reminder at odd times when thoughts are peaceful.
Then the white paper with dripping black ink. Like a child learning to write with a paintbrush.
We meet again Jace.
And nothing more as tanned and scarred fingers lift off the piece of bloodstained cloth and confirm to the unknown shape in the crisp blue uniform; yes it was that man again. Always one step ahead of them all and the only one who can seem to see into the pattern of this serial killer is one who can only see into the mind of the past.