The End Draws Near

David Burke - 29 - Ex Serial Killer "There is much pleasure to be had in pain - unless, of course, it's mine."

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

“Nice to know you’re so easily bothered.” Pocketing his hands, he shrugged and decided not to show any further how jealous he was. The man seemed to be twisting the knife on purpose, but Wesley shook his head. “False. Even if I stay human, I wouldn’t be miserable, otherwise I’d turn out like you: with frown lines.” He flashed a not so innocent smile to go along with his insult. “Kinky.” Everything his opposite said was taken as a joke. After his chuckle died down, he went on. “You’re like a parrot repeating the same shit over again. You think I dont know how to hurt a demon–excuse me, part demon–while I’m like this?” Humans learned of the weaknesses. Salt and holy water had been used against him in the past and he assumed that hasn’t changed. “You keep saying that, but you’re already arguing with me like a big brother.”

[david-burke-blog]

“I’ll admit I’m a tad hostile,” he replied, an icy undertone creeping into his voice, though his expression continued to convey what appeared to be amusement – something not entirely false, either. “Cute, but pressing the same button only lessons its effects, you know? And I’d say envy is a type of misery, wouldn’t you? You’re definitely envious – I can smell it on you – and I can only imagine it’ll get worse once you’re disappointed. See, there are a lot of people here, quite a few who used to be demons, too… not very many have ended up with their old claws back. Statistically speaking, I’d say it’s likely you’re out of luck.” He barked with laughter, lifting a hand to wipe at his mouth, perhaps to stifle it. “Find any holy water around lately? Any amount of salt that’d make a difference? This place was made for demons – they won’t offer you anything to hurt them… or me, for that matter.” He shook his head, offering another vaguely irritated eyeroll. “I’m arguing like you’re a stranger – or is fighting only something siblings do now?”

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

He rather liked the next image of violence, only because it made him laugh a little more. “Don’t be such a grumpy, old man. No harm, no foul.” His hands lifted in defense, but his joking nature was soon replaced with bitterness once the man hit him where it hurts. “I’ll get it back eventually.” That was wishful thinking. Wesley could feel the heat of envy making him want to blow out imaginary steam. “Besides, all brothers say that until they have one. We could do whatever you wanted to do?” The proposal was very open. He knew that it left room to put himself in danger as well, but Wes didn’t have a care about that. He was new here anyway. It would be good to follow someone around until he got used to the surroundings.

[david-burke-blog]

Anger immediately flared in his gaze, and he bristled, baring his teeth in a savage, sharp-toothed snarl. “I’m only grumpy because you’re bothering me, and I'm certainly not old,” he snapped, though his previous irritation seemed to recede some as Wesley spoke, envy appearing roll off of him. A hint of smirk spread across his lips the instant he detected it, the ghost of a chuckle pulling itself from his throat. “You liked being a demon, didn’t you? Such a shame that’s not how it works here, isn’t it? It’s a bit of a game of chance, really -- it’s possible you’ll just be a sad, little human for the rest of your time, here... actually, I’d say it’s likely.” He snorted, this time not bothering to resist the urge to roll his eyes, amusement obvious in his expression. “I don’t need a brother. Never wanted one, either. And I’ll let you in on a little secret: I can already do whatever I want to you, because like we’ve established, you’re only human.”

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

‘It’s not an empty threat’, Wesley mouthed the words mockingly, a roll of his eyes quickly following. “If I had a nickel for every time someone huffed and puffed with their threats…As if I give a shit.” Though he sighed, he knew he was instigating the matter. Whether the bait would be taken was up to his opposite. It was stupid, in his opinion, if the man snapped that quickly, but that only made Wesley a hypocrite. He was also secretly testing the man’s limits. It was good to see how far you could get with people. “Oh, come on. I’ll be the brother you never wanted. I promise to get on your nerves, it’ll be fun.”

[david-burke-blog]

He barely resisted the urge to snarl at him, the need to keep his dignity intact the only reasoning behind his choice -- he didn’t, however, have an issue with breaking a few bones, should the other man continued to antagonize him. He wasn’t quite certain how well known he was, but he figured that if the stranger hadn’t known of his reputation, a show of violence would sear it into his mind easily enough. “Continue the way you are and you won’t have the limbs to accept any nickels,” he said, his tone more lighthearted than he truly felt -- though, admittedly, violence was very appealing at present. “I don’t need a brother, and in any case... you’re not a demon; not anymore. If there’s even a shred of it left you in, it’s too small to make any difference.”

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

His eyes softened with a fondness, but not particularly at this man. It was at those pitch black eyes. He happened to love being a demon himself, but that had been taken the moment the curse at Broken was off. “If you’re trying to intimidate me you’re going to have to come up with something better.” With a smug smile, the threat was rather…alluring, but it was too early to be getting all dirty. Besides, there were more important things. “That trick with your eyes, we’re practically brothers.” The wheels turned in his head; it must be the castle. Maybe all wasn’t lost. Maybe he would be able to do the same, again.

[david-burke-blog]

David snorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes -- intimidation? He wasn’t being threatening for the sake of it; he’d meant every word that’d slithered from his throat. If this man mentioned his face again, he’d tear him apart -- literally. “Oh, believe me, it’s not an empty threat,” he replied, his voice holding the beginnings of a hiss, though he somehow managed to keep himself from sounding as irritated as he felt -- that smile on his face wasn’t improving things, either. He’d always hated when people tossed his favorite expression back at him, regardless of the intention behind it. “My ey--?” He broke off, an annoyed huff escaping him. Of course. He was irritated and less human side had decided it’d be a wonderful idea to show itself. “Let me guess. You were a demon too? Belonging to the same species doesn’t make us brothers.”

[david-burke-blog]

Believe Me, I’m Lying

[stuckinmysickness-blog]

Emma listened with careful ears as he’d begun the story – the condensed version, it seemed – of his first kill, and while she was eager to soak up every word that was given from his lips, she couldn’t help but feel as though there was something lacking – the juicy details, perhaps. Surprise hadn’t hit her until David began describing the feeling of what it was like afterwards, brows lifting subtly on her forehead as she continued to listen with soft anticipation – though the feeling quickly withdrew itself when she found that she was unable to relate to, well, almost everything he’d said. She blamed the lack of details for that, which, more than anything, was what she was always after. That didn’t mean the brunette wasn’t interested in the information he was willingly giving her though. In fact, she was engrossed in the mental imagery of the scene she’d managed to conjure up in her mind – though, once again, the lack of details about this Emily’s body during the actual murder quickly had her at a mental roadblock. “…But how?” She asked, her voice still strangely soft and relaxed. “How did you kill her?”

She couldn’t deny that he was smart about where he’d chosen to dispose of the woman’s body – most people probably wouldn’t even notice the odour, considering everything else that made the sewers as grimy as they were known to be. However, the question of why Emily had followed him down there of all places blossomed in her mind – she must not have been very smart, or as he’d said, naive. There was a particular sentence that caught her attention more than the others, ‘You’re feeling something that’s strong, that feels real, and that’s very rare to come by for someone like me.’ Swallowing, the small brunette’s lips flatlined, pressed together firmly, actively. She didn’t think herself like him as far as a diagnosis and past actions went, but the familiarity that came with those words caused a hard pang of discomfort among her internal organs. The confidence in her eyes seemed to slip along with her gaze, and although she hoped her opposite couldn’t tell that he’d finally managed to crack her tough exterior, she couldn’t be certain. She felt thrown off, suddenly exposed in some sort of light, and she brought her arms up to cross yet again, this time more for self reassurance purposes. Not wanting him to catch on if he hadn’t already, she quickly nodded before speaking the first thing that came to her mind. “…That’s not what I expected to hear…” A half truth. She hadn’t been expecting anything in particular, but had kept an open mind.

“Thanks,” Emma softly responded as she took the blade of the knife between her middle and index finger, bringing it up to her eyes for inspection. She wondered how long he’d had it, and how many lives it might’ve taken over time in David’s possession. Although, she had a pretty good feeling that this man in particular liked to do things with his bare hands–or claws. “You could always burn him.” She pitched, glancing up from the knife to his equally silver hues, the beginnings of a smirk growing upon her lips in reference to what he’d done to one Emily. It wasn’t something she normally would have said with any sort of humour, but as far as she was out of her element, she was also very much submerged in it. The teenager had never taken death lightly, or disrespectfully for that matter – though she’d arguably breached and crossed that line during her many adventures snooping through old murder scenes and known haunted places, messing with the spirits in an effort to prove they were something more than mere rumours. In the serial killers presence, however, she felt herself taking on a new perspective, for lack of a better word. While death maintained its permanence, it wasn’t as dark as it had once been in her mind at present, but instead was thought of just as casually as she thought about the day in general – though, this day in particular definitely stood out among the rest.

Turning the blade over in her hands, she imagined what pushing it through someone’s gut would feel like – there’d probably more resistance than she’d expect. Twisting her wrist in the air as though she was performing the act, the brunette quickly pulled her elbow into her side and looked up at David to see if he’d noticed what she was doing. She didn’t know if she ever could perform the act of murder, though she was almost sure that if she was confronted with a situation where she was being legitimately threatened, she could follow through with it. In any case, she figured it couldn’t hurt to be ready. She’d already found herself in this situation, so it wasn’t far fetched to think that another one could arise at any time. “How long have you had this? …And how good are you with it?” She asked, holding the knife out to him handle first. Before asking anything else of him, she had to know how much he knew about defending and not just attacking with a weapon.

[david-burke-blog]

It wasn’t surprise that entered his expression as she inquired as to how he’d killed her -- he’d spared the details for safety’s sake, but he hadn’t actually thought it’d been necessary. She’d already shown an unusual lack of concern over the fact that he’d killed in her presence, and over the corpse splayed across the floor. In fact, he didn’t believe she’d shown even a shred of anxiety over their whole conversation, something that he’d expect more from himself rather than a teenage girl -- unless, of course, her own lacking upbringing had ended with a similar fate to his own. He’d read somewhere that psychopathy expressed itself differently in women than men, though he couldn’t put much weight behind the thought -- he didn’t know her well enough for that, and in any case, wasn’t interested in following that particular train of thought. Call it strange, but he preferred to be the worst to encounter, and as much as he fought his diagnosis he held a level of possessiveness over it -- must’ve been the narcissism.

“How’d I kill her? Well, technically I strangled her to death, but it was probably a mixture of that and blood loss,” he answered casually (far too casually for an explanation on murder methods), before gesturing vaguely towards the knife he’d handed over. “I stabbed her all over before that, though. It’s funny, really -- I thought that would’ve killed her. You know, like in the movies? Not that I’d seen many of those, but you pick things up from other people -- I digress. You know how people die in those, yes? You stab them once; they fall over; they’re dead. Not how it works in reality.” His previous smirk slipped back over his lips as he spoke, the memory bringing a flicker of amusement to his expression. “I actually got frustrated with her, and that’s where the strangling came in. She wouldn’t die, and it damn well pissed me off! Obviously it wasn’t her fault -- I wasn’t good at killing people, yet -- but at the time I definitely felt like it was.”

He chose to omit the rest of the details, though he was almost sure she’d handle them with a similar lack of concern -- knowing how others reacted, however, didn’t give him the certainty he needed to continue with his story. He shook his head slightly, the last of his amusement fading back into the depths of his mind, and he turned his sharpened gaze back onto her, a flicker of curiosity lighting them as he detected her shift in demeanor. Had he said something that’d upset her? Made her feel unsafe? It wouldn’t have surprised him, given the topic of conversation, but somehow, he doubted it’d been talks of murder and mayhem that’d caused her lapse in confidence. He searched her face for another moment or two before he allowed his attention to drift elsewhere, figuring that if it was important he’d find out at some point anyhow. He shrugged as she expressed how unexpected his answer had apparently been, having gotten similar answers from others. “Most people tend to expect a laughing maniac. The reality is, while I’ve gotten close, I don’t think I’ve ever met a murderer who fit that profile.”

His eyes shifted back down towards his mangled victim at her suggestion, the idea appealing enough in his eyes -- the only issue lied in finding a lighter. “I could,” he said thoughtfully, already walking himself through what he thought might put such a device in his possession. Summoning, while still a drain on his demonic energy, was an easy enough process, and he doubted that she’d question him if he happened to have one waiting around in his pocket, especially after admitting to having burned at least one other body. Serial killers did tend to have patterns, after all, and while his didn’t have anything to do with fire, it was doubtful the topic would come up -- at least, in a way that he couldn’t easily deflect with a few more half-truths. That and omission were his biggest assets in controlling a situation, aside from brute force, and he planned to use them to make the best of the one he’d gotten himself into here.

Reaching into his back pocket, he focused his energy on summoning a lighter, a surge of (slightly less energetic) triumph surging through him as his fingers curled around the tool. Pulling it out, he flicked it open to ensure it worked, nodding in the direction of the corpse. After it was thoroughly burned, he doubted that anyone would be able to recognize him -- he wasn’t sure he was the sort to be missed, of course, but while risk-taking was a behavior he was prone to, he wasn’t about to take that big of one here. Not when he could sort of recognize the personal danger in having anyone friendly with him hunting him down. Without adequate technology on their side, it was impossible to prove he’d killed him, but how many other murderers were running about? He’d be suspected immediately. He brought his attention back over towards her, taking the knife she held out once it was offered to him. “This one? Not long -- a few months, maybe. As for talent, I’d say I’ve got plenty of that.” He eyed the knife in his hand for another moment before he finally tossed the lighter onto the remains of his kill, willing it to burn more easily -- as it happened, it appeared he had some affinity with fire, because he succeeded.

Nobody would recognize him now.

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

“Where’s the fun in–holy shit!” The moment his eyes landed on the man–the scar–all his attention went into it. Wes stepped closer as if he wanted to touch it, which he did want to, but refrained. “Dude. Someone did a number on your face.” He informed as if the guy wasn’t aware and could feel the laugh bubbling up because it was so damn wild and amusing.

[david-burke-blog]

If he’d looked even vaguely irritated before, he appeared far worse after the newcomer had spoken. He ground his teeth together, searching for any reason not to rip the beginnings of amusement right off of his face – he couldn’t find any of importance. At least, nothing that compared to the fact that he’d pointed out the fact that he’d been injured – as if he hadn’t known! “I’m aware,” he said, his tone dangerously calm and his eyes flickering between black and their usual gray, “and if you ever mention it again, I’ll beat your face in so damn badly that it’ll make this look like some kind of paper cut. Understand?”

[wesley-bates-deactivated2020011]

“Anyone wanna catch me up to speed on what the fuck I’m doing here?”

[david-burke-blog]

“New arrival, huh? Haven’t gotten one of those in a while. As for your question, well, I think it’s easier just to say ‘welcome to the rest of your life’. If you’re lucky, it won’t be too long.”

[carmen-akerman-blog]

Genesis’s thrived on David’s reaction to getting his face slashed. The downside of getting tortured by someone close to you would be that would know were to hit you where it would hurt the most, well in David’s case, Genesis knew exactly how to wound his ego. He, much like her family and herself, heavily prided and depended on their physical looks to get them where they need to be. The scars that would form on his face would take weeks to heal, unless Zach or herself intended to heal them. Which she knew neither would do. Zach wouldn’t piss on him if he was fire. And as for herself, her feelings were complicated when it came to David, but extending a kind hand to David had dissolved the moment he had sexually harassed her. She wanted so desperately to go back to what she was when she first started working at the hospital, but she had become something she couldn’t recognize.  

Was David honestly still talking, he had strength, Genesis had to give him credit for that. She now desperately wished that the archdemons would’ve killed him, she wished for it. Or at least give her the satisfaction of doing it herself. The more he spoke, the more her eyes glowed that golden shade. She felt her blood boil from anger, complete hate for him. Not there wasn’t a word to describe the things she wanted to do, and in a split of second, Genesis ripped the leg of the bedside table and began to beat him viciously with it, hearing bones crack and managing to impale him. She kept till the wooden leg was stained with blood and she was out of breath. Even that wasn’t enough to stop her, she only stopped once he was out of force to react to her beatings. Her chest heaved, tossing the blood stained wood to the side, she dropped down to lift him up carelessly and roughly by his collar of his blood soaked shirt. “Remember my face David, cause I swear to your gods, to any fucking god that I will be the last person you see when you die. I swear you won’t make it out of this place alive. I don’t care if I have to rot here with you, but you will never leave this place, ever. You will fucking die here. I will make it my personal mission.” Her met his eyes, although they were near impossible to make out due to her harsh beating, but her eyes were nothing but stone cold and her threat sounded like a promise. “If there’s anything I can thank you for is that I’m not that weak little girl anymore.” She shoved him against the floor. 

[david-burke-blog]

He’d realized the instant the words had slithered from his throat that he’d gone too far, the anger contorting his face seeming to shift towards something closer to panic -- why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He’d always been proficient at picking up on others’ distress and using it against them when he knew it’d hurt them most, but anyone with a half-working brain could recognize that digging his verbal claws into her had been a terrible mistake. He wondered briefly if she’d kill him -- if it was possible to kill him; was he already dead? -- a dull knot of anxiety writhing in his stomach as her eyes began to brighten. Gold. He’d always liked the color, but he’d unfortunately have to admit that the color didn’t suit her nearly as much while she was twisted with satanic fury -- where it’d come from, he couldn’t say (all he’d said was that he’d stayed with a friend! He hadn’t even done anything to her!) but it was more than obvious that he’d managed to make it worse, somehow. Props to him! He’d made the same mistake he had last time she’d gotten violent with him: Opening his mouth. Normally he wasn’t keen to admit that any doctors were right when it came to him, but he’d quite readily admit that they’d been right with one, tiny little detail -- he couldn’t seem to learn his lesson.

Now it’d bitten him in the ass and he had a feeling it’d bite him everywhere else, too.

He lifted a hand defensively as rage rolled off of her, wishing he could’ve sucked the words right back into his mouth -- not for her sake, of course, he felt no sympathy for someone who’d gone berserk on him (and of course, he’d never recognize the hypocrisy in that), but for his own. "Now, wai--” He scrambled to cover his head with his hands as she tore the leg from the bedside table, having already guessed what she’d planned to do with the damn thing -- what was it with her and beating him? What was it with the women in his life with beating him? Bradley wouldn’t do this, he didn’t think -- though he’d done worse, he’d give him that -- and even Zachariah had used his fists. He thought perhaps a more accurate question was why in the world he couldn’t escape from such treatment -- sure, he was an awful, terrible, loathsome excuse for a man, but he didn’t deserve this. He hadn’t done anything to antagonize her the first time. 

Unless she’d become to horribly bloodthirsty that she was prone to outbursts -- not difficult to believe at present, and it became easier and easier with each bone that cracked beneath the force of her blows. He sunk pathetically to the floor as she finally let up, a weak groan managing to tear itself from his throat as she pulled him up by his shirt, though he’d long since lost the ability to see -- blood in the eyes, and a nearly-crushed skull tended to do that. He couldn’t answer her threats (not that he would’ve bothered either way, she was beyond reason), merely allowing himself to be shoved back into the floor and wondering where in the world that beast had come from, and hoping that death wouldn’t accept him into her loving embrace just yet.

She wanted to ensure his death? Let her try. He’d delight in her failure.

In fact, he’d make his own personal mission to work towards one thing; one sole concept he’d never shown much more than a fleeting interest in before...

Survival.

[bradleycallahan]

Keep reading

[david-burke-blog]

He couldn’t help but gag again as Bradley managed to shove his way down the rest of his throat, his semi-clawed fingers curling tightly enough in the sheets for them to tear -- how much longer would he have to endure? He’d never been quite as fond of giving pleasure (not orally, at least) as he was with receiving, and the angle at which the other man preferred him to give it to him was particularly aggravating. Especially when it made it infinitely more difficult to perform his task, which only proved to drag things on longer. He made a mental note to take a page out of his book sometime, though it most likely wouldn’t end up being tested on him. Still, he’d made his bed, and however much he disliked it, there wasn’t anything to be done but lie in it, and thus he resolved himself to ignoring the man thrusting up against his face in favor of pleasuring him to his best ability.

[bradleycallahan]

Keep reading

[david-burke-blog]

Funnily enough, while he normally prided himself on his apparent lack of a gag reflex, the angle was awkward enough to elicit a gagging sound each time Bradley rocked his hips -- he wasn’t quite certain the man would even care, at this point, especially since he was sure that his throat constricted pleasantly (he nearly rolled his eyes at the thought) around his cock. Still, in spite of his newfound (or not) attitude regarding his current situation, he continued to utilize his tongue as expertly as he knew how, which, speaking modestly, was most likely up to his standards. He kept the majority of it coiled around the center of his length’s base, the forked tip sliding almost teasingly along his slit.

[carmen-akerman-blog]

No, Genesis didn’t want to hear excused anymore. Instead of letting talk she slammed his head into the wood full force, possibly hearing something else crack. Possibly his nose, she didn’t care. All she knew it wasn’t enough to shut David up. Did he ever shut up? No. No, finally came to the conclusion of it. “You’re such a fucking idiot, David. Instead of making things better for your pathetic self, you seem to just egg on your attacker. But I don’t mind playing into it.” She said, turning him to face her and extended her hand out. “Maybe I should give a make-over.” She maliciously smiled down at him. Her delicate looking black-polished nails slowly began to grow in length and size, the once human nails looking like that of a monster. She had never allowed more than her eyes to turn into anti form, but this was the exception. She wanted David to suffer. She loved how the tables have turned, she was the unpredictable one. Although if she were honest, the trigger to this was her loneliness and jealousy of David getting to spend time and play pretend with Zach and Kass, despite knowing that Zach loathed David. He still got to spend time with them. While she was alone back home. She didn’t even muster the courage to go visit her mother, and with that thought she brought the hand down and slashed his flesh, causing bits of flesh to get stuck under said nails. “This is so fun.” She heaved, and brought it down again across his face. “How does it feel David?” She questioned with wicked smile. 

[david-burke-blog]

In all honesty, he’d expected her to slam his head back onto the bedside table, given that she’d already done it twice and he was still coherent enough to speak -- did that annoy her? He felt annoyance rolling off of her like a wave, tied with disgust, lonelieness, and a myriad of other negative emotions he wasn’t quite able to recognize -- very rarely did he feel any himself, and his abilities in cognitive empathy were... slightly more impaired than usual, now that he’d had his head cracked. Again. By an antichrist. One who’d already tortured him once, and one he’d thought had decided they were even (or whatever moral equivalent there was for such opinions). It seemed that speaking about others, especially when they tied into someone she was apparently fond of (not that he could’ve known), while she was depressed and desperate enough for company that she’d accept his was not the best strategy, and he made a mental note to never do it again, if he could help it.

“Let’s be... honest, Gen; there isn’t a way for me to make this better,” he mumbled, more weakly than before, his words less coherent both due to his shattered nose and obvious concussion. He felt another zing of panic -- and what an interesting feeling it was, really -- zap through him like lightening as she spoke, and twisted around just in time to witness her almost demonic transformation, though there were several key differences. He’d been so caught up in the horrific nature of it that he’d forgotten he was supposed to fear for his life (it’d replaced his panic with curiosity, even -- had she always been able to do this?), though it returned the instant she slashed his face, along with an agonized (and probably satisfying) shout. “I feel,” he began, his teeth grating together -- panic had bled into anger; she’d gone after his face, of all things. His face! His one redeeming quality, marred with another set of ugly wounds. “Like I’m tired of your hypocrisy -- and of being tortured,” he spat, pleased that he’d managed to get the words out, in spite of the dizziness that’d gripped him. “Honestly, and you think I lose control at random? Ridiculous; look in a mirror, sweetheart. No wonder you looked so upset when I mentioned I have friends -- I doubt you have any. Wonder why. Big mystery, huh?”

[carmen-akerman-blog]

Genesis rolled her eyes, “stop lying. That’s what you are!” She spat, she chuckled at how pathetic he was. “You are quite the sight David.” She laughed, he couldn’t even defend himself, and it made her feel wonderful. She knew it was a horrible thing to give in to her power. The more she used it, the easier it got to be dependent off it. She didn’t care in that moment however, she just want to see him on the floor covered in his blood, pleading for his life. Wanting to see him gasping for air, squirming like the worm he was. She walked over and gripped his hair, tugging him down on knees. “You will die regardless, you psycho little bitch!” She snarled, gripping his hair tighter and slamming his face right into the mahogany bedside table. “Maybe it’s all of them, David.” She said, slamming his face once more against the table. “Maybe I’m just angry that you keep lying and tricking people into being friends.” Her voice deeper and less like her own. 

[david-burke-blog]

“I'm not lying!” he protested angrily, his hand still lifted to his cracked jaw -- he didn’t quite know why was continuing to bother with reasoning, when clearly she wasn’t open to listening. The truth was, he didn’t think he was lying; sure, he’d omitted that he’d been closer to a savage monster than a man at some point, but it hadn’t been his personality driving his change in that direction -- it’d been a lapse of control over his needs. Excluding that uncomfortable part in his life, he hadn’t changed much at all -- in fact, at times where he was feeling less unaware of himself, he might’ve admitted that he wasn’t sure he was capable of changing. Regardless, he wasn’t about to profess that to her, especially not when it was doubtful that she’d believe him -- she’d somehow switched back to where she’d been when she’d tortured him, and he... he’d admit he wasn’t very comfortable with the implications that set. He tried backing up -- honestly, there wasn’t much good in fighting -- as she advanced, but he couldn’t compete with her abilities, and before he could get out a word she’d forced him onto his knees -- and then proceeded to slam his head against his bedside table. “Psycho? Really? Best you’ve got?” he snapped, though he found it difficult to continue to think, especially after she’d repeated her previous motion -- concussed, again. “I’m not... trying to trick anyone.” Not directly, that was, but there wasn’t much difference, in his mind.

[carmen-akerman-blog]

“Really? Are you sure David?” Genesis would be lying if she didn’t admit that it felt beyond good and powerful to do what he had managed to do to her plenty of times, catch her off-guard and attack her. But now things seemed to be in her favor. “I think it is you. Actually we both that is who you are.” She said, walking closer to him. She walked over and shoved him, “admit it. Admit you’re a piece of shit.” She demanded. Genesis let out another dry laugh, “you feed on innocent people. Somehow you want to be the one who gets out this alive. I honestly don’t see how that is fair or logical at all. You always have a choice, you just seem to choose the one that is convenient for you, ALWAYS!” Her voice louder. Genesis clenched her fist and brought it up to make contact with his jaw, a noise coming in between them. “Oops. I just cant control myself. It’s just who I am now.” She said, shrugging and a smug smile on her lips. 

[david-burke-blog]

“I know who I am, and it’s not that thing they turned me into,” he spat, growing aggravated as the conversation continued -- he hadn’t prepared himself for another fight, and more importantly, he wasn’t quite sure of her intentions anymore. Had she decided to hurt him? Kill him? They both knew that she was fully capable of doing either, her angelic blood giving her a hefty advantage over him, and now that she’d blocked his chance at escape, he was left to her mercy -- or rather, perhaps her lack of it. “You’re mistaken. This, the person in front of you? This is me,” he protested, biting back the anger that threatened to creep into his tone. He wasn’t about to be reduced to a slavering beast, especially given that he wasn’t quite ready to admit that he’d ever been one in the first place. “I’ll admit that I’m a bad person, fine. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll say it again -- I’m a bad person; the worst that’s ended up here, probably, but I’m not what those archdemons tried to turn me into.” He laughed humorlessly as she continued, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “As opposed to what? Asking me to die so that they can die a bit later down the line doesn’t seem like a fair trade, so what am I supposed to--!” He broke off abruptly as her fist slammed into the side of his face, the bones in his jaw cracking beneath the force of the blow. “Damn it, Genesis! What the hell’s got you so riled up? Is it loneliness? Jealousy? Guilt, even? What is it!?”

[carmen-akerman-blog]

Genesis laughed dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in her laugh. She honestly expected the answer yet somehow foolish though that maybe he would admit that he was at fault. She tilted her head slightly at his responses. “Yeah, but not really David. He was just seeing you as you truly are. It’s no secret to me  what kind of speck of trash you are. In fact, I think the archdemons got something right, Bradley should be terrified of you, and everything and anything that has to do with you. He deserves better.” She said, getting out of bed and standing by the door. Her anger was raising not only was it the fact that David kept managing to fool people, or the fact that he had friends, but she was also angry because there was a tiny bit of resentment. She snapped her fingers once, a veil of gold showering the walls of David’s bedroom for a couple seconds, making sure he wouldn’t teleport out. She turned to smile passive aggressively at David, “let’s talk, David.” She said, her eyes flickering from her natural hazel to gold. “You don’t go crazy? Are you sure? What have you done to keep your hunger under control?! Tell me, David!” Her tone growing loud. “You must have done something, so what was it? Somehow you’re still alive.” She said, her eyes now completely gold. 

[david-burke-blog]

It was so incredibly sudden that he almost felt like he’d gotten whiplash from her change in attitude, the anger emanating from her more than enough to surprise him. He stared, his expression frozen with shock, as she spoke, still wondering where in the world her rage had come from -- she’d been fine only moments before! Okay, so maybe fine wasn’t quite the right word -- she’d clearly been depressed -- but she hadn’t been hateful and he wondered briefly whether she’d actually managed to play him for once. Not that he humored the idea, of course, given that his senses were acute enough at this point to detect such things -- she hadn’t been deceiving him (not consciously, at any rate) when she’d come back to his room, though that only proved to further his state of confusion. “That’s... not who I really am,” he replied after another moment of stunned silence, shaking his head ever-so-slightly to rid his expression of any more surprise. “And I’m not even going to bother with the rest of that, honestly, because it’s mostly bullshit.” More like he couldn’t figure out an adequate (or convincing) response, but with him, there weren’t differences between the two. A flicker of unease appeared in his face as the walls shone gold, the change in her eyes not improving things any -- was she going to attack him again? Shove him back into that cage? He swallowed, his expression hardened,both as an attempt to keep himself appearing neutral, and due to the subject that’d arisen. “Not randomly, no. And yes, I’ve done something -- fed. I don’t have any other choice, we both know that...” He trailed, off his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why are you suddenly so eager to pick a fight with me, Gen?”

[finchlynoah]

‘I’m right’, he repeated over and over in his mind. It did depend on the person. He wasn’t stupid. Yet the man’s expression said the opposite. Are you? Blue orbs looked up to the man’s sharp ones. The more he stared, the more he couldn’t help seeing the similarities between this man and a shark. A growl that was increasingly getting louder brought Ethan to break eye contact. He brushed a hand through his hair, more than anything wanting to press his palms against his ears. Even children. You’re pathetic. “I’m…” His mouth closed before he could say 'not’, catching himself in time before he could respond to something other than the person in front of him. “I…I, uh, I’m sorry, you were saying?” Playing it off was the only solution, but even he could tell it wasn’t a strong one.

[david-burke-blog]

He cocked a brow, the ghost of amusement still flickering in his expression – had he ignored him? Ran away from the reality that his head couldn’t be screwed on just right, from the simple fact that what he’d rudely interrupted him for hadn’t been something of a common experience? With each action, he found himself more and more disgusted with the stranger standing before him, his revulsion pushing him towards more overtly antagonistic behavior. Give me an excuse, he growled internally, the urge to crush the pathetic excuse for a person in front of him into dust growing with each passing moment – he hadn’t felt like this in ages. Give me an excuse and I’ll do it. Truth be told, he didn’t require any reason to lash out at others, his hostility not exactly some closely guarded secret. Still, he found himself oddly reluctant to respond to the situation with physical violence – the psychological sort would have to suffice, for the moment. “Having trouble paying attention, are we?” he asked, the slightest hint of mockery embedded in his tone, enough to create doubt as to whether it was actually there at all.

[carmen-akerman-blog]

She nodded understanding Bradley more than she liked, but she could defend herself. While she was sure Bradley didn’t have any of his angelic powers back. At first Genesis didn’t understand why David was with Bradley, but now it was vice-versa. Bradley was a kind soul who she had no doubt David was tainting. She knew all too well people could only take so much before they started changing. She exhaled as he spoke, “let me guess? This is somehow the archdemons fault, right?” She asked, knowing the answer. She knew David all too well. However as the next sentence that slipped past his mouth.. her eyebrows creased together. Kass? Genesis wondered, as in Zach’s Kass. That chilled her to the core.  No at the fact that they were friends, she was sure Kass could defend herself, but she knew what David was capable off. She didn’t wish that on anyone especially not Kass, who had never been anything but kind to her. “Is she okay? I mean, you didn’t hurt her or touch her or anything, right? You have quite a tendency to lose control.” Her tone growing cold. 

[david-burke-blog]

His expression slackened as she spoke, another dull sigh pulling itself from his lips, and he found himself just barely able to resist rolling his eyes -- she spoke like it was completely ridiculous to fault them for the event, when in fact he believed it to be the truth (sort of). He hadn’t been the monster that set the event and caused his reversion -- though he was staunchly against calling it reversion, as he wasn’t quite sure he wanted people to realize that he’d ever been like that in the first place -- and therefore he carried none of the blame. In his mind, it was a completely logical conclusion, especially since he doubted anyone else was being held to the same standard. “Sort of, yeah. They’re the reason he was hurt in the first place.” He paused for a moment, before adding, “Let’s not argue about this, alright?” He knew full well that nobody believed that he was even partially not at fault for what had happened, and while he’d always enjoyed a good argument, he wasn’t keen to get into another with her -- not when she finally seemed to have let go of all her (misplaced, in his opinion) hatred of him. Genuine offense contorted his expression as she continued, though he wasn’t quite sure surprise was the right word for whatever else he was feeling -- it was almost to be expected. “I don’t go berserk at random, you know. She’s fine; I haven't done anything to her. Her brother’s the one who caused the trouble, not me.”

[carmen-akerman-blog]

Genesis’s expression fell, not that there was much of expression to begin with. Had she heard right, David with friends? Yet again, he had fooled her into thing that maybe he wasn’t a hopeless cause, but she knew better now. She fully went into whatever fucked-up relationship they had, knowing what David was. She could try to justify and say that she was getting along with him out of survival, but if there was thing she could thank David for, she was more in tune with her emotions. She fully acknowledge why they seemed to spend so much time together. David was always around, and she was drawn to how completely and utterly fucked-up he was. If anyone had asked her to describe the anti-christ, she would’ve described David to a T. She had seen real evil in his eyes, plenty of times. It’s not something anyone could forget when they have encountered it. Yet when she stared at her reflection, all she ever saw was a weak, broken person. She exhaled, swallowing thickly, she didn’t want to start crying in front of him. She blinked a few times to repress her watery eyes. Genesis’s gaze dropped at the mention of Bradley, and felt a twinge of remorse or guilt or both. “Why is that?” She wondered, “more importantly, what friend? Didn’t think you had many of those left or any after November.”  

[david-burke-blog]

A flicker of confusion entered his gaze as he noted her change in expression, wondering what exactly he’d said had caused it -- was she upset for Bradley? Upset that he had friends? Without asking, he didn’t think he’d ever come across the answer to any of his questions, but he, truth be told, wasn’t interested enough to allow them to leave his lips. If it was information he was meant to have, he was quite certain she’d muster up the strength to tell him, and if not, he’d forget about it entirely -- he wasn’t the sort to dwell on the feelings of others, especially considering that he rarely extended the same luxury to even himself. Feelings were fleeting and only mattered when he acquired something from the situation, and while yes, he technically had gotten something out of her visit, he wasn’t particularly keen on listening to a long-winded complaint -- not unless it felt as though it were a requirement. “Why’d I need to get away from him, you mean? He’s terrified of me now.” A heavy sigh escaped him, his expression darkening for half a moment before he managed to right it. “As for the friend, well, her name’s Kass, and... staying with her was about as nice as I expected. And yeah, Gen, I’ve still got a few friends hanging around, even after November,” he replied, a hint of a smirk stretching across his lips and amusement glimmering in his eyes.