Propulsion and metal.
The blood in my veins was as hot as boiling water. My head was spinning, but I was in complete control.
It was almost scary, how calm I felt when I heard the first blast, the feel of the gun shuddering in my hand, the sensation of that small nugget of lead exploding from the barrel more intense and pleasurable than any orgasm I'd ever felt in my life.
It was better than sex.
My eyes widened, and I swear I think I had an actual orgasm when I saw Buffy crumple to the ground, the wet bloodstain spreading across the front of her shirt like the prettiest flower I'd ever seen.
And in that moment, our eyes met. As she fell, as she died, our eyes met and we understood each other. In that moment, I loved her. She was beautiful like this, limp and lifeless on the ground like some gloriously dead piece of art.
The moment our eyes met, she knew. And I knew and it was beautiful like nothing I'd ever known in my entire life. I thought of Andrew. He had pretty blonde hair too, like Buffy's. And his eyes were big and blue and lovely, his skin so milky pale that I'd never been able to shake my desire to draw a blade across it and watch it split open for me.
Like Buffy was right now. She was dead before I even turned to leave the yard, my heart not even pounding. It was all so beautiful.
My Buffy. She was mine now. I'd made her mine, like Andrew was mine.
I could hear the cries behind me as I rushed out of there, my blood singing inside me. My brain was a flurry of thoughts. For the past year or so of my life, I'd dedicated myself to one thing--power. Not being anyone's goddamn victim anymore. Power and pain and pleasure and blood and that sweet, delicious rush that came from spilling it.
And nothing, nothing had ever been sweeter than this.
I tucked the loaded Glock .32 into the pocket of my loose leather jacket, taking it off on my way out onto the sidewalk and folding it over my arm. I was still completely calm, to my surprise. My heart was beating at a steady pace, unlike Buffy's. I even smiled brightly at a few people on the street.
To be honest, I was kind of turned on.
But I couldn't be thinking about that right now. Andrew was most likely in jail right now with Jonathan, afraid and more alone than he would have been without Jonathan there. I needed him. I needed to go get him. He needed me.
So I made my way down the street, stopping by my house on the way to the police station to drop my coat and gun off into my van, parked in the driveway of my mother's house. I made a mental note to tell her I was moving out tomorrow. Time to cut the cord, blah blah blah.
And then I walked the rest of the way to the police station, a little amazed that I had just killed a human being in cold blood, and now I was walking into a police station without a care in the world. But I should have known better. I'd spilled human blood like a God.
"Afternoon, boys and girls." I said cheerfully, pushing open the door to the station and pointing to Andrew and Jonathan's cell as I approached the desk. I'd grabbed a ridiculous amount of money from the bank heist stash, not sure how much his bail was going to be.
"I'm here to pick up. Andrew Wells, blonde hair, taken into custody a little earlier? I've got his bail right here, so if you don't mind I'd like to take him home now. It's been a long day for all of us."
I smiled easily at the officer as he took my money and nodded to the guard standing by the cell. The sky had opened up and was falling for me.
It was almost scary, how calm I felt when I heard the first blast, the feel of the gun shuddering in my hand, the sensation of that small nugget of lead exploding from the barrel more intense and pleasurable than any orgasm I'd ever felt in my life.
It was better than sex.
My eyes widened, and I swear I think I had an actual orgasm when I saw Buffy crumple to the ground, the wet bloodstain spreading across the front of her shirt like the prettiest flower I'd ever seen.
And in that moment, our eyes met. As she fell, as she died, our eyes met and we understood each other. In that moment, I loved her. She was beautiful like this, limp and lifeless on the ground like some gloriously dead piece of art.
The moment our eyes met, she knew. And I knew and it was beautiful like nothing I'd ever known in my entire life. I thought of Andrew. He had pretty blonde hair too, like Buffy's. And his eyes were big and blue and lovely, his skin so milky pale that I'd never been able to shake my desire to draw a blade across it and watch it split open for me.
Like Buffy was right now. She was dead before I even turned to leave the yard, my heart not even pounding. It was all so beautiful.
My Buffy. She was mine now. I'd made her mine, like Andrew was mine.
I could hear the cries behind me as I rushed out of there, my blood singing inside me. My brain was a flurry of thoughts. For the past year or so of my life, I'd dedicated myself to one thing--power. Not being anyone's goddamn victim anymore. Power and pain and pleasure and blood and that sweet, delicious rush that came from spilling it.
And nothing, nothing had ever been sweeter than this.
I tucked the loaded Glock .32 into the pocket of my loose leather jacket, taking it off on my way out onto the sidewalk and folding it over my arm. I was still completely calm, to my surprise. My heart was beating at a steady pace, unlike Buffy's. I even smiled brightly at a few people on the street.
To be honest, I was kind of turned on.
But I couldn't be thinking about that right now. Andrew was most likely in jail right now with Jonathan, afraid and more alone than he would have been without Jonathan there. I needed him. I needed to go get him. He needed me.
So I made my way down the street, stopping by my house on the way to the police station to drop my coat and gun off into my van, parked in the driveway of my mother's house. I made a mental note to tell her I was moving out tomorrow. Time to cut the cord, blah blah blah.
And then I walked the rest of the way to the police station, a little amazed that I had just killed a human being in cold blood, and now I was walking into a police station without a care in the world. But I should have known better. I'd spilled human blood like a God.
"Afternoon, boys and girls." I said cheerfully, pushing open the door to the station and pointing to Andrew and Jonathan's cell as I approached the desk. I'd grabbed a ridiculous amount of money from the bank heist stash, not sure how much his bail was going to be.
"I'm here to pick up. Andrew Wells, blonde hair, taken into custody a little earlier? I've got his bail right here, so if you don't mind I'd like to take him home now. It's been a long day for all of us."
I smiled easily at the officer as he took my money and nodded to the guard standing by the cell. The sky had opened up and was falling for me.