M O N S T E R

/ By No_Face [+Watch]

Replies: 9 / 7 years 138 days 14 hours 10 minutes 40 seconds

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What would you do in my position?


It's a hard choice... but I think I made the right one.


Let's see how well this is actually going to go, am I even sure I can trust you anymore?




Either way we are now chained together, so let's make the best of this.


I still can't even believe my eyes what I have seen, who exactly are you?




Guess it's going to be another sleepless night, the stars are always watching... remember that.



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Roleplay Responses

Reese's eyes snapped open as he heard the door opening to the room, did Marshall just come in? Maybe he was just paranoid, lifting his heads out of the covers Reese looked around and didn't see anything that would lead to human activity but his own. Shoving the blanket off of him he decided to go check and see where... Marshall was. When turning the corner he felt light headed and he leaned against the staircase. "Marshall?" He called out. He didn't feel well, and passing by that mirror he didn't appear well either. His face was pale and his eyes were slightly puffed, probably from his tears, but the worse was the line of blood that went from his lips to his chin from earlier.

"Reese get it together..." He whispered to himself, wiping at his face only to remember his hand was covered in blood too. Reese started to hyperventilate, he was terrified of large amounts of blood. It was almost like a picture show of before flashed inside his mind, the head that had rolled across the floor as he opened the door. Almost like he triggered the trap to snap the man's neck. What if it was his fault? What if he were to blame and Marshall knew it? He was terrified of his own thoughts, but reality soon came crashing onto him as he heard footsteps start to return upstairs. Had Marshall actually heard his call? Reese ran back up the stairs crawled into the bed before him. Trying to calm his breath, Marshall had walked in.

It seems the later did not notice Reese as he walked in as he stepped into the bathroom and the water started running. God how Reese wished he could just jump into the shower too. He felt so dirty and needed to wash off the blood on his hands... literally. Not even five minutes later he heard the shower turn off and Reese was too scared to look up, to be noticed. The other had opened a drawer and left the room quickly, leaving Reese to sigh with relief. He got up nervously on his own two feet when he heard footsteps going down the stair.

He really needed to shower before he threw up again, and looking down at the sheets he could see some dried blood on that too. Of course it was more faint hand prints then actual blood. He didn't know if stepping in the shower would be totally noticeable to the one downstairs but he need to do something. Stepping into the bathroom he rinsed his hands and his face first then the rest of himself. The water was cold, but he didn't care it felt good against his burning skin. Once he was done he stepped out and realized he couldn't wear what he had before. They were dirty and stained with blood, something he wanted to escape from. Digging through Marshall's drawers he pulled out some clothing for him to wear.

Although the shirt hung loose on him, it felt right like it belonged there touching his skin. For pants he just grabbed a pair of shorts that looked like pjs. Sighing he pulled those up along with underwear up his legs til they met his hips. He felt so snug in these clothes even knowing they belonged to a killer... he already made a deal with said killer, making him just as worse. Shaking his hair a little so it wasn't so damp he started to walk downstairs. Again he turned the corner and called out, "Marshall? Are you down there?" while he walked down the stairs. Hoping he wouldn't have to witness another scene.

Reese walked into the living room and didn't see anybody so he walked into the kitchen and found Marshall. He had to giggle watching as his friend danced around the kitchen while making something that looked like hamburgers. Reese froze in his thought, were there actual body parts in the meat. Concerned he tugged on his friend's sleeve, probably scaring him, but Reese needed to have his questions answered.

  Ghostie / 7y 36d 14h 49m 32s


Marshall felt Reese go limp and was, for a moment, quite terrified that some way, he had accidentally killed him. His mind, in those few seconds, didn't bother to go over details as to how that would work; it just panicked instead. He pulled Reese roughly to face him and smacked his cheek a few minutes, the boy's head lolling about. It was only a few seconds later that Marshall listened for a heartbeat and found one, visibly relaxing. Silly boy, passing out like that. Didn't he know people might think he was dead if they didn't pay close attention?


He decided he'd be nice and lifted Reese up--poor boy didn't really weigh that much. The blonde carried him swiftly back to his own room and lay him on the bed; he had his own things to take care of and couldn't afford to pass out or take a nap. Nodding one last time to make sure Reese couldn't injure himself on anything, Marshall left the room with the sleeping boy and closed the door behind him.


He came back to the problem at hand: cleaning. It was going to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated, considering he'd slipped with the bear trap on James. Such a stupid man... and such a stupid Reese for scaring him like that and not knocking! What if he was indecent? What would he have done then?


Marshall trekked into his basement and brought out all his materials. He'd been waiting for this part--it was kind of fun, after all; the thrill of cleaning up a horrendous crime and risk being caught or someone getting a whiff of something that wasn't their business. After a while, Marshall's moves turned choppy as adrenaline flooded through him and overloaded his limbs with a need to hurry and get finished. After all, his best friend was upstairs passed out, and Marshall would liked to have been done before he awoke.


He finished within the greater part of an hour, but he knew he'd go over everything again tomorrow just to make sure there was no residue. Such a complex, beautiful process it was. But he loved it to no end that he could currently see.


The blonde boy skipped up his stairs two at a time and went into the bathroom. There was nothing he needed more than a shower right then. He had blood all over him and cleaning solutions and just the smell of horror; it clung to his skin like a blanket and sucked him into its vortex-- he didn't want to get out.


The shower was quick, and so was Marshall. He ran back to his room, got underwear and pants and shuffled back to the bathroom in a towel and put it on in there. He brushed his teeth even though it was the middle of the day and mussed his hair. Then he went back to his room and put on a T-shirt and a hoodie-- one of his many OBEY hoodies. They were his favorite, and anyone who paid attention to anything he wore could see that. When he looked at the bed, Reese's head had disappeared under the covers. Marshall decided not to mess with him because he thought the smaller boy was still asleep.


He shrugged and put some socks and shoes on, skipping back down the stairs. They probably wouldn't be going out at this point in time, so he thought he'd make something. His cabinets weren't exactly full, considering this was his first day back home, but he had enough to make a little something.


Marshall jogged into his living room and unplugged his iPod speaker dock and put it in the kitchen, plugging his iPod up to it and playing some of his favorite music. He sang along and even danced a little as he prepared to make a few hamburgers and some fries.


He was obviously in a good mood, which was strange, considering.

  _Parasomnia / 7y 42d 18h 41m 6s
Reese could smell the ever faint smell of blood as he was pulled in close to his best friend. His arm and legs went limp and all he could remember was that Marshall had a genuine smile on his face before everything just went black. Not that he minded, he loved Marshall and all but it was going to take him a while to get over the shock of him killing another. Reese wondered for how long had Marshall been doing this.... It couldn't have been too long ago, they were in school smiling and laughing about stupid things back then. And this was no laughing matter.

It was weird but blacking out really helped him get through the muddle in his mind. It helped him to see things how he needed too, he could think things through with out all that adrenaline flowing straight to his head. He could see the 'big picture', blood everywhere. Who's blood he could probably never imagine, if it weren't for the fact that he'll play informant for a while with Marshall. Then it really dawned on him, Marshall could easily kill him. Just because the other said that he thought about it and would combust into flames it still did not change the fact that Marshall thought about it.

The thought of Marshall's hands wrapping around his neck almost left him breathless, he could just be another victim to Marshall. It was in this thought that Reese knew he was going to have to change if he wanted to pose a threat to Marshall. To keep him in his place, he would have to start thinking like him. It was a scary thought, but it would work.

Opening his eyes he looked around, it seemed to him he was in Marshall's room. A very uniform room, everything in it's place just how he remembered it to be. Turning himself around he could see the clock... It was maybe around three in the afternoon. When exactly did Reese even arrive to the mess in Marshall's living room? Noon? More than likely.... turning himself again he faced the window, everything looked like a normal day outside, still not a single cloud in the sky. But Reese knew different, sighing he pulled the covers over his head. The smell that could only be of Marshall had almost filled his lungs... what exactly did he feel for Marshall?

It's kind of a hard question when he stood by his crush, even seeing when he murdered someone. Reese licked his lips, was it a stupid decision or was it the chance of a lifetime? He thought back to earlier, those hands that had embraced him in a hug could possibly be the one's that embraced him in death... and surprisingly he was fine with that. God he was stupid, his head was so clouded.

  No_Face / 7y 71d 17h 55m 37s

Marshall couldn't help but relax himself into a chair. Suddenly his knees felt weak and his stomach felt upside-down as he came to grips with the fact that he'd been caught. If Reese could catch him, how hard would it be for some stranger or person of the law to find him like this: blood everywhere, knife in hand, dropping a bear trap on a man's head? What were the odds of being able to talk it out before calling in the police?


When the smaller boy eased himself down onto Mashall's lap, he didn't flinch away, but rather a shudder shook his spine as the brunette's warm breath tickled his ear. This feeling was unnatural to him; something he had really never had the chance to feel up close. No, he wasn't a virgin, but again no had anything ever made him shudder so violently.


He found his throat dry again.


Reese's proposition made Marshall widen his eyes in stark surprise-- or maybe that was because of his pressure point being jabbed. He didn't know, nor did he care. All that he knew was that Reese wanted Marshall to serve him like some slave and to do everything he said. What was this? Didn't he understand that Marshall could kill him right there without much effort? Like the brunette stated, he was a very scrawny boy and it wouldn't be hard for the blonde to top him, but... Just the idea of killing his best friend made his head burst into flames and he didn't even want to fathom the fact that he had just thought about how easy it would be for him to dispose of the younger male.


"I... Marshall couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. How could he? The way Reese gazed into him, it was like he saw past all the barriers and walls and straight into the cogs that made the machine that was his body work. In that moment, it was like he knew, like he really cared and didn't want Marshall to get raped in prison. After all, he'd probably be there for life for manslaughter. God. The consequences seemed to really stack up once he got out of the hype of killing someone.


"I'll do it."


The blonde broke eye contact with Reese, looking down at the boy's pants subconsciously. He felt like a horrible person. Now Reese would have to put up with his insanity. how many people did that? How many people would honestly not jump at the phone or out the window if they had walked in on what Marshall was doing? How many people wouldn't panic instantly?


Reese didn't. He stuck by Marshall and talked him down and even said he'd protect him as long as he did what he said. The blonde didn't think that was such a horrible setup. It could be worse.


So he pulled the scrawny, shorter boy into a hug. Marshall lay his head on his shoulder and muttered, "Ya know, I tried thinking of what I'd do without you and I almost spontaneously combusted."

  RecklessIIRelentless / 7y 73d 9h 3m 40s
He was out of the room, step one was complete. The knife was put down while they were still in the room, that was a good thing. But why did he still feel like a wreck was about to happen. Well.... a wreck had already happened.... but he felt as if something way worse would play into action. Sucking in a deep breath he moved closer to Marshall, placing a hand on the other's chest he pushed the other down in to a seat.


Plopping himself down in the other's lap he coiled his arms around Marhsal's neck, before pressing his mouth next to the later's ear. Holding him there tightly, making sure to press against the pressure point there. "L-listen here Marshall, you aren't a monster... b-but you need to stop." Reese began to whisper into his ear. "An... and I need to make sure of that." He finished his thought, before taking a deep gulp. "I need you to listen to every single word I say." Reese continued, his breathes coming out ragged now the more he thought about this.


"I'm not going to tell the police, and we will be going back to how we have always lived.... except for one thing. And this is the most important part...." Reese trailed off, biting his lip before continuing. "You have to promise to be my slave, do everything I tell you when I tell you." Reese finished, before pulling back his head. His fingers were still pressed firmly into the other's pressure point. "I'm scrawny, I can't do much, but I can help you to plan this.... craving.... out better." Reese said, this way they would both get something out of it. Marshall could still kill people, but only under Reese's orders.


"You are my best friend and I'd rather not see you go under. So what about it?" He asked, finally removing his hands from around the other's neck. "We could make an amazing pair, wouldn't you agree Marshall?" He asked, his eyes interlocked with Marshall's. He was nervous but he needed to get over that soon, and by soon he meant now. Especially if he was actually going to get this plan rolling. He didn't want to see Marshall behind bars, and he'd rather see the man covered in blood if he was being honest with himself.


Reese felt like he was slowly going insane, even offering up such a deal as this one. But what else was he to do to be able to keep them both safe, and Marshall out of prison. Maybe his crash was going out of control, but now he could not even start it as his heart fluttered out of his chest. He couldn't even tell if it was from nervousness or from the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. All he knew was that is was making him dizzy, but he couldn't pass out now. Not until he knew that their deal would actually be... in a sense, legalized. At least in his own thoughts he would be safe.

  No_Face / 7y 73d 1h 11m 2s

Marshall could see the panic in Reese's eyes. He could see the absolute fear play about his features. The blonde felt like a freak with how Reese looked at him. He felt like a monster, something straight out a nightmare. And he hated Reese to the ends of the earth for putting him into this position. Into the position of the bad guy.


Reese had always stuttered a little, but the way he stumbled over his words while trying to look at Marshall was ridiculous. The blonde boy would never kill his friend; nothing could make him-- well, not unless Reese told. But Marshall wouldn't torture him. He'd make it quick, and if possible, painless.


He smacked himself mentally for even entertaining the thought of killing his best friend. The only reason he didn't actually smack himself is because he'd look stupid and he couldn't appear weak in front of Reese. Not now.


For a moment, Marshall pondered the other boy's request to put the knife away. He blinked a few times and seriously considered it, before finally releasing the iron grip on the brunette boy's shirt. Marshall wiped his hand on his pants as best he could and took a step away, putting his hands in the surrender position as he set the knife down on a side table.


He felt awkward as Reese stood there and looked over his handiwork, clearly horrified. It struck Marshall that Reese was such a tiny boy. He looked-- and was --pretty much harmless. He was emotional and he said deep stuff and he was skinny. Marshall seemed like his opposite. He was bigger, taller, more muscular. But somehow, sometimes, Reese seemed to be much smarter than him. The blonde boy wasn't stupid, just less in touch with things...


Again he felt stupid for noticing such petty things at a time like this.


He didn't even need to glance at the dead body to answer Reese's question, saying, "Yeah, it's Jamie," in a hushed voice so low he wasn't even sure that the other boy had heard him.


When Reese started screaming, Marshall looked down. He felt as if he was being hit with fists; beat down by the blows of Reese's words. He thought Marshall was a monster. Just another villain in a scary movie, a pointless killer. Made sense. It wasn't what the blonde had expected, but then again, his expectations were surreal. It made sense he was already being treated like a criminal.


Marshall didn't move when Reese asked for him to take him out. He didn't even blink. He was still in the process of figuring everything out. He didn't want to kill his friend. His closest friend. He'd hate to have to get rid of him. But if he kept screaming or looking at Marshall with those judgmental eyes, he'd have to do it. He couldn't risk otherwise.


It was only when the other boy threw up that Marshall snapped to attention.He realized, quite suddenly, that this was really his life and someone had walked in while he was killing somebody. It had all gotten very serious very quickly.


He took the shorter boy by the wrist, and feeling like he was high, led him out of the room to the kitchen. He let him go once they were there and stared at him, trying to find something to say, but instead came up with a dry tongue and empty thoughts. How do you justify killing someone without sounding like you need to be in some kind of hospital? Like there's something seriously wrong going on with you?


"Sorry you had to see that," he said at last. "You should really call me before coming over, you know. You don't... you never know what I'm doing. I'm... I realize something is wrong with me in the mind of a normal human being, Reese. You don't have to tell me that. All I can say is that... I've felt blood run between my fingers. And I like it. I'm an addict."

  RecklessIIRelentless / 7y 129d 11h 40m 37s

N-no... This could not be happening, not this. The bloody fingers that curled around collar, were basically as frightening as the decapitated head across the room. The clumps of blood in his hair, and just basically all the blood in the house were just adding to his grand mental state, which right now was practically a swamp. "M-Marshall..." He whispered, his eyes bugging more as the stench reached his nose. He felt the water in his eyes about to boil over but he sucked it in, he wasn't about to lose this easily. Marshall was tons faster than him so there would be no way that he could outrun him not even in a million years.


"M-Marshall, the only way I'll talk to you calmly is if you put that... that knife away." Reese spoke with whatever voice he still had, his eyes now flickering between the knife and Marshall's face. The other's face was livid from the second he had turned to find Reese in the doorway. It had gone from something that looked like fear to almost one of anger. Reese felt like he was about to be sick, looking over again at the person's head just lolling on the hard wooden floor beneath it.


"G-God Marshall... What the hell is all this?" He asked motioning his hand around the whole room, this room that he stood in just a week ago. What the hell happened? Was this always used as a room for a sick and twisted hobby? Just thinking about all of this at once, Reese's head started to throb.


Taking another huge gander at the head on the floor his eyes widened if possibly more. "I-is that J-Jamie?" Fuck, shit... He was supposed to go to trial in a few days. "Marshall do you even know what you've done?!" He screamed at the other clutching at his head. It was really starting to hurt thinking about this. "Take me out of this room..." He muttered towards the Marshall. He couldn't be in this room, all of it was just one big question mark.


Reese realized that he could be killed right here on the spot, but something clicked in his head. Play this off for a bit to get out of the room and away from the instruments of death, then make a proposition. It really couldn't have been that hard to play this off. Taking another sniff to back those tears back into their place, that stench finally got to him. Pushing Marshall away he threw up all over the floor. It's not like there was much in his stomach to threw up anyway, he came up here to get Marshall for lunch.


But the question was would this be enough for him to get out of this room and commence the plan he conjured up just moments ago. This plan probably had so many flaws, but he knew he would be caught if he ran and would be killed if he fought. This was a more in between the fight or flight actions they talk about on the television. Well of course... it's not like this was a tv show, no this was reality, and he could die if he made one wrong move. This was more like a game of chess than a tv show, a war against a solider and land mines... never know the outcome.


OOC: Jezzus. D: Gosh the best I can do to match up against that is 3000 >.< Reese... just shush your lips... you might live longer. And by the way your picture is fine, but if you want to change it go ahead.
  No_Face / 7y 136d 13h 42m 55s

Violent delights tend to have violent ends.


Marshall felt alive. Well, he was always alive, but he had never felt so energetic as when he was in the act. The process of doing the unthinkable, the unforgivable, the unacceptable. He didn't love anything more than he loved that feeling.


It consisted of many other feelings tied into one. The adrenaline from the fear that he would get caught, that somebody would walk in, was the dominant feeling. There was also the curiosity at what mindset he was in, at how he could bring himself to make the downward motions with the knife, painting an unorthodox picture, the skin his canvas and blood his ink. Then the awe would set in, asking him how far he'd go next time, if there was a next time.


He smiled at his victim, a convicted child predator that lived two streets over that had gotten out of jail two months ago. The man shivered and squirmed and whimpered, which only gave Marshall even more of a thrill. If he could be honest, Marshall would say that the things humans did when their lives were in danger seriously aroused him. But he'd never be a rapist, no; he'd never touch anybody inappropriately. Too much of a window for being caught. He didn't like the odds.


Now that high school was over, Marshall relished in the thought of how much free time he'd have for his favorite activity. It kept the energy in his veins, the liveliness in his motions.


"I'll tell you what, Jamie, boy," he said with a slight chuckle, "I'll give you some options. There's no chance I'm letting you go now, so get that thought straight out of your head. But you can choose what happens next to you. I can either cut off your balls or you can step in a bear trap. The bear trap has two ways to go, so I guess that's more options. Blink once for testicles and twice for bear trap."


James whimpered and tears dampened his cheeks, his veins bulging in his neck as he struggled against the tape Marshall had on his mouth.


"Come on, James, I'm not very patient."


The man started bawling as he blinked twice.


"Great choice! Now, you can choose arms or legs. Blink once for arms and twice for legs."


He blinked once.


"Fabulous. Now, I suppose since you're right-handed I'll do your left. I'm merciful, aren't I? Besides, if you're gonna impale your slimy, sleazy fingers into more little girls, wouldn't you like for it to be your best hand?"


James Singer began to shake his head violently and rock back and forth. Marshall pranced over to his dining room table and picked up the heavy bear trap cautiously. He brought it over to James with the utmost care and set it at his feet. Marshall grinned maliciously as he set down the heavy hunk of metal. He began to untie the older man's hands and feet, but punched him in the face swiftly with the warning that any wrong moves would grant the removal of all his limbs and being burned alive before Marshall killed him once and for all. James nodded profusely.


Marshall ripped off the tape from the man's mouth so he could replace it with something hardier. In that split second that Marshall was changing it, James screamed with everything he had. Marshall, panicking, accidentally pushed him, and the child predator's head went first into the bear trap. It snapped shut, and after that, the only sound was James Singer gurgling as he choked on his own blood.


Marshall sighed. Stupid. He had hardly begun to have his fun.


The blonde boy decided that maybe it was then that he would turn around to contemplate what he would be doing next... And he saw the door open. Marshall picked up his favorite knife and stood up, waiting for the door to open entirely so he could stare whoever it was down.


But his stomach dropped almost as soon as the door opened. It was Reese. He was standing there, thunderstruck as he stared at Marshall. His only friend had caught him in the act of something horrible and there was no way to explain it.


"Reese." His usual quick wit ran quite dry. Then he gathered up his courage and crossed the room quickly, taking Reese by the shirt and pulling him into the house, closing the door and locking it behind them. He cornered the smaller boy as he said, "So since you're here, why don't we talk?"

5000 characters! I feel cool. but anyway, I'm iffy on Marshall's picture and I'll probably change his appearance altogether. e-o
  RecklessIIRelentless / 7y 136d 15h 10m 37s

Something was off about today, but the sky was clear, not a cloud in the sky. The birds were chirping and everything seemed to be like normal... but he just couldn't shake that gut feeling he was getting as he ventured down the road to his friend's house.


Reese and his friend had just graduated high school this year, and it was just a few months before they would be going to the same school for college. He felt the smile spread across his lips before he could even stop it. Along the way he might've started having a crush on the slightly taller male, but he would never say anything. He liked where they were now, just friends.


Everything else was like a dream, the first week they partied, hard. The second week of no longer being high schoolers... they kinda just lazed about each other's home. Today would be the day that his friend came back from camp or whatever it was, his friend was home and that was all that mattered. Putting a slight skip into his step, he approached the door that lead to the interior of his friends house.


He jiggled the door only to find it locked. Pouting slightly he took out his spare key, and plugged it into the keyhole. Hearing a scream from within he became concerned and opened the door carefully. Was anybody hurt? What his eyes landed on, he couldn't... no he didn't want to believe. W-what should he do... what should he do.... Marshall hadn't noticed him yet. Oh god... what the heck was going on? Too many thoughts were going through his head, he couldn't just leave the door open... he needed to make a decision now, before others peered in. He cupped his around his mouth, scared to make even the slightest noise.


He closed the door and planned to walk away, but he stopped mid track, his keys! He forgot his keys! They laid right in the doorway of the home. There was no way he was going back in there, he wasn't even sure what was going on! Was this a dream? Oh please let it be a dream... He thought as he turned back around... maybe he could do this.... Reese opened the door once more and peered in, this time his eyes were caught with a different sight, another eye was watching him. He was caught... And Reese realized this was not a dream, not a fantasy, this was reality and he has to live with what he was going to do.

  No_Face / 7y 137d 19h 56m 53s
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