christ-haunted

in church today, i sit beside a man with the eyes of a snake whose head i buried in the front yard

[seidkonaz]

if you dont like this it wasnt me & i don't know her. if you do like it im taking full credit

[fleshfruits]

“who is she?”

her voice is soft and unassuming, without accusation. she hardly remembered the girl's existence, much less her name. her eyes are fixed to the damp splotches on the floor where she did her best to dispose of the evidence. it's the interruption of their particular momentum that has her so shaken. they have, however attenuated, a routine; a vaguely predictable give-and-take to sustain her right at the edge of madness. he's taken a great deal from her this time, and she didn't come prepared to bare what was left to a stranger.

“what would she make you beg for?”

she asks as if he were not in the room, as if the answer doesn't matter, because it doesn't. she's largely disinterested in what he gets up to on his own time—a man is only worth as much as his best kept secrets—but this is not his time now, the torch has changed hands. he owes her an explanation, if nothing else.

[undeific]

Izaya follows her gaze to the floor, trying to untangle the peculiar feeling in his guts, his throat. There is nothing to suggest he’s come home to a crime scene—Delilah wouldn’t have bothered to clean up the evidence if it were—but it feels that way regardless. He laughs, partially to expel the coiled energy, partially at the absurdity of his own unease. 

          “We both married icy blondes. Her name’s Tem.”          He says it with all the cool detachment one would expect.          “Shinra’s dad wanted me to look out for her. She’s Nebula property.” 

There’s an unpleasant scent lingering beneath the disinfectant, bitter and organic, fetid. Vomit? 

          “As for begging, I take it you’re talking about the knife? She was giving me the cold shoulder for a while, so I was making a statement. ‘Don’t make me beg for attention. Don’t make me beg for forgiveness.’”          He waves his hand dismissively.          “Was she here? She plays tough but she’s got the constitution of a little baby fawn. You didn’t scare her, did you?” 

[fleshfruits]

the eager heat of spring fogs the windows, crowding into the backseat of the cab. the driver's face doesn't show his age but streaks of silver at the temples give him away. he's watching them like he knows something they don't. delilah leans close to her lover—suggestive, but not near enough to touch. three hours from now, when the doctor arrives to peel him off the pavement, she'll witness him defenseless in the face of his most tender resentment: it should've been me. when they're not looking, she'll take sacrament from the blood-dampened asphalt.

the driver says something in japanese that sends izaya into a fit.

“what's so funny?”

“he asked if we're married, he said you talk like my wife.”

"*you're kidding, right?"

she'll tell him later, intoxicated of her own cruelty while he's too delirious to protest, what must've been the truth, even if only in that moment,“yeah baby, i'll marry you.”

she unravels against his shoulder with a sob, as she's done so very many times, but it isn't like before—how could it be? nothing now can pass between them without bearing the mark of two point-blank nine millimeter exit wounds.

eventually she regains enough of her breath to choke out, “i don't know—not on purpose.”

[fleshfruits]

butdo u. do u care her

[seidkonaz]

you nearly drowned inside my holy water

[seidkonaz]

heyy so unemployment is taking care of rent but my finances are dwindling otherwise, if anyone could spare some dough for food/bills/gas i would be grateful 😭

cashapp $shelbyphiliac

paypal

[romancestual]

'On a Mission Trip to Philadelphia I Begin to Fear the Inside of My Body' from Rookery by Traci Brimhall.

[fleshfruits]

u can add shi'ite catholicism to the list of things me n del were doing before it was cool

[fleshfruits]

it's eleven o'clock on a sunday evening in their quiet, repulsively wealthy corner of San Francisco; shooting him would be a nuisance, and killing him even more so. murder is hot gossip in their circle, and she's rather enjoyed not being the talk of the town for a while. but everyone returns to that stage eventually, with one grotesque display of need or another.

“i could have an angel irradiate every cell in your body in slow motion—or have holy water dripped in your eyes 'til it wears holes straight through your skull. there's nothing i would not do to you.”

her voice is measured, even lightly pleasant. she lowers the hammer.

“but my husband is a better man than i am. you can thank God for that.”

[wickdcreatures]

“  for  what  it’s  worth,  i’m  sorry.  ”

his  hands  lower  with  the  hammer  of  the  gun.  it’s  impossible  to  tell  what  is  more  disappointing  to  him  –  being  met  with  a  gun  or  not  being  shot.  both  thoughts  weave  effortlessly  together,  build  off  of  each  other.  it  awakens  other  disappointments  too  —  he  was  not  received  so  warmly  as  he  thought  when  he  was  released  from  the  psyche  ward  by  the  one  that  really  matters.  the  one  who  he  got  himself  into  this  whole  mess  for  has  been  distant,  despite  everything  jun  has  sacrificed  for  him.  the  gun  in  his  face,  the  look  of  rage  in  delilah’s  eyes,  the  betrayal  he  sees  in  the  eyes  of  everyone  else  he  knows.

it  was  all  for  him.  and  yet…

“  i  know  how  scary  it  can  be.  but  don’t  you  know  what  it’s  like  when  you’d  do  anything  for  someone?  even  if  it’s  fucked  up?  even  if  it  hurts  people?  ”

he  steps  forward.  the  hammer  might  be  down,  but  the  threat  is  still  ever  present.  he  presses  his  body  into  the  barrel.  a  dare.  a  request.  flirting.  pleading.

[fleshfruits]

they aren't silver bullets, but at this range regular ammunitions would still leave a hole the size of her fist; she could reach right through him and yank out any slimy, rotten organ she pleased. he'd live, albeit miserably if he isn't well fed. she meditates on the phantom sensation of taught tissue fibers straining, then snapping between her fingers—and her shoulders release some of their tension.

“if you wanna be target practice so bad, come back when he can actually get out of bed. we'll take turns.”

she holds her position for a moment longer, but ultimately lowers the weapon. it'd be unfair to worry adríel with the noise.

"what'd you get for all this, anyway? did he let you sleep in the cozy cage for once, or scratch behind your ears and call you a 'good boy'? seriously, tell me why this was worth it.”

[fleshfruits]

“delilah. what's yours?”

the first clap of thunder is so loud that she jumps. the steady thrum of rain follows hastily behind it, and she collapses with relief and laughter on the couch. if she actually gets what she asked for, they may be stuck here for a while. profuse apologies are made to the cat for causing such a fright, accompanied by attempts to beckon her onto the cushions.

the house reminds her of elijah's—just beyond the reach of the world.

"are you always so chill with trespassers?

she may have been invited to satiate his curiosity, but she certainly has her own.

[med1c1nal]

When the thunder hits, Hyuntae looks up from the coffee machine and out the large windows. Serenity slowly filters into blank eyes as he watches the trees begin to sway, dancing in the sudden squall.

          “It’s nice to meet you, Delilah.”          Something in his voice is vaguely stilted, as if he’s trying to recall rehearsed lines. His eyes stay fixed on the scene outside.         “I’m Hyuntae.”

A pause. He tears his eyes away from the windows to collect two mugs from the cabinet. 

          “How I react to trespassing depends on the trespasser, but it doesn’t happen all that often in the first place. Besides, you appear to have … forces … on your side, so it’s only smart to be hospitable to you. Yes?”          The barest hint of humor now, mouth quirked upward in an almost-smile. 

[fleshfruits]

on your side. he's right, in a simple way, though she'd argue it's murkier than that. their favor, and the power it confers, is a game of chance as surely as it's a game of skill; the altar is no safer than the waiting jaws of a crocodile. a beast's loyalty, no matter where it may lie, can never overcome its nature.

“if i like the coffee, i'll put in a good word.”

for a day or two, the unseasonable storm will bring relief and levity to the polite, compulsory conversations between strangers. as it goes on, the working public will become more concerned with the state of the roads. after a week, news anchors will nervously banter with half-baked guesses of when things will return to normal. after the second week, there's doubtless to be millions of dollars in infrastructure damage—almost all of which could've been prevented, if only those with means had acted on the advice that's been repeated to them for half a century. and people with no culpability in those failures will die; children like caleb, children like her brother.

"were you very frightened, watching? or more... magnetized?”

[totopopopo]

Making biblical memes to procrastinate from writing my paper due tomorrow is peak college behavior

[fleshfruits]

[ TXT ] :   have you been taking care of yourself?

[ TXT ] : i should be asking U that !!!

[ TXT ] : don't worry abt me u have enough worries

[ TXT ] : but yes i think so

[ohisms]

✱ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 1-800 ( HIT MY LINE ) ... ( a collection of texting prompts, part two. adjust phrasing as necessary, mature themes present. )

[ TXT ] :   you could just say you're sorry.

[ TXT ] :   this doesn't mean i forgive you.

[ TXT ] :   be outside in two minutes or you're dead,  i mean it.

[ TXT ] :   the least you could do is let me know you're okay.

[ TXT ] :   you start your day at 2pm?

[ TXT ] :   i think i lost my  [ ITEM ].  is it there?

[ TXT ] :   where are you?  nobody's heard from you.

[ TXT ] :   pick up.  pick up.  pick up.

[ TXT ] :   what if i said i'm outside?

[ TXT ] :   keep me posted.

[ TXT ] :   i want to kiss you so bad it hurts.

[ TXT ] :   send me your location.

[ TXT ] :   i hope this is some sort of emergency.

[ TXT ] :   i woke up and you were gone.

[ TXT ] :   they know.  i don't know how,  but they know.

[ TXT ] :   don't come home yet. i'll explain later.

[ TXT ] :   don't say i didn't warn you.

[ TXT ] :   i can't tell if you're mad at me...

[ TXT ] :   just trust me,  ok?

[ TXT ] :   [ IMAGE DELIVERED ]  you left this behind.

[ TXT ] :   are we still on for tonight?

[ TXT ] :   i want you to admit what you did.

[ TXT ] :   did you just hang up on me?

[ TXT ] :   are we ever going to talk about this?

[ TXT ] :   this is bigger than both of us now.

[ TXT ] :   i'm still waiting.

[ TXT ] :   what are you doing tomorrow night?

[ TXT ] :   fine,  i'll do it myself.

[ TXT ] :   you're still my emergency contact.

[ TXT ] :   stop,  you're making me blush.

[ TXT ] :   i lied earlier.  i'm not fine.

[ TXT ] :   [ MEDIA ]  ...  delete this after you look.

[ TXT ] :   i'm not joking.

[ TXT ] :   what happened to "never again"?

[ TXT ] :   i just want to make sure you know you're not alone.

[ TXT ] :   i don't know who else to call.

[ TXT ] :   can't stop thinking about you.

[ TXT ] :   you couldn't have told me this in person??

[ TXT ] :   i can't wait to see you again.

[ TXT ] :   did i do something wrong?

[ TXT ] :   i can't help you if you don't let me.

[ TXT ] :   i have ... sort of a favor to ask.

[ TXT ] :   i'm grabbing food, want me to pick you up?

[ TXT ] :   you looked at me different tonight.

[ TXT ] :   i don't want to be alone right now.

[ TXT ] :   i can't believe you'd actually say that.

[ TXT ] :   don't worry,  i handled it.

[ TXT ] :   i didn't think this through.

[ TXT ] :   give me a straight answer.

[ TXT ] :   if you go to the cops,  so will i.

[ TXT ] :   someone's feeling bold today.

[ TXT ] :   were you ever going to tell me?

[ TXT ] :   i shouldn't have said that.

[ TXT ] :   we kind of have a situation...

[ TXT ] :   i keep re-reading our old messages.

[ TXT ] :   like,  a BODY-body??

[ TXT ] :   you should hate me right now.

[ TXT ] :   i didn't plan for this,  either.

[ TXT ] :   i know you're reading these.

[ TXT ] :   have you been taking care of yourself?

[ TXT ] :   it's getting really bad again.

[ TXT ] :   [ IMAGE DELIVERED ]  am i doing this right...?

[ TXT ] :   i'm coming over whether you want me to or not.

[ TXT ] :   i need you to delete our texts.

[ TXT ] :   were you at  [ LOCATION ]  yesterday?

[ TXT ] :   you got anywhere to be later?

[ TXT ] :   i know it's 3am but i need to hear your voice.

[ TXT ] :   are you having fun?

[ TXT ] :   i'm on my way,  don't go anywhere.

[ TXT ] :   it's been awhile,  we should meet up somewhere.

[ TXT ] :   oh my god,  are you bailing again?

[ TXT ] :   [ LINK ]  ...  this reminded me of you.

[ TXT ] :   so that's it?  we're just...  done?

[ TXT ] :   wear the  [ ITEM ]  i got you tonight.

[ TXT ] :   you looked at me different tonight.

[ TXT ] :   bring a jacket,  it's freezing.

[ TXT ] :   your secret is safe with me.

[ TXT ] :   this wasn't meant for you. forget you saw that.

[ TXT ] :   do i need to come over?

[ TXT ] :   stop,  you're making me blush.

[ TXT ] :   you're running out of time.

[ TXT ] :   don't bother making excuses.

[ TXT ] :   i see you typing...

[ TXT ] :   i don't think i caught your name.

[ TXT ] :   they know.  i don't know how,  but they know.

[ TXT ] :   i wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.

[ TXT ] :   you snore,  by the way.

[ TXT ] :   show me what you're working on.

[ TXT ] :   call me right now,  it's an emergency.

[ TXT ] :   if i tell you something,  promise you won't freak out.

[ TXT ] :   i thought you were dead.

[ TXT ] :   this is all a big mistake.

[ TXT ] :   movie's showing tonight at 9,  are you in?

[ TXT ] :   [ IMAGE DELIVERED ]  ...  miss this yet?

[ TXT ] :   you don't have to be such an asshole.

[ TXT ] :   you know what you're doing to me.

[ TXT ] :   i just heard what happened... are you okay?

[ TXT ] :   you owe me one.

[ TXT ] :   i miss you so much.

[ TXT ] :   can you send me the photos from last night?

[ TXT ] :   [ LINK ]  ...  have you seen this???  [ NAME ]??

[ TXT ] :   you looked beautiful last night.

[ TXT ] :   can i see that beautiful face?

[ TXT ] :   i kept your stuff. in case you ever wanted it back.

[ TXT ] :   sorry,  i'm running late.

[ TXT ] :   i'm not supposed to be talking to you.

[ TXT ] :   you can't ignore me forever.

[ TXT ] :   [ LINK ]  ...  don't freak out.

[ TXT ] :   i think my phone is tapped.

[ TXT ] :   hold on,  i'm in the middle of something.

[ TXT ] :   just checking to see if you've blocked me...

[ TXT ] :   you can't tell anyone about this.

[wickdcreatures]

@fleshfruits sent in a 🎁 for a spotify wrapped sentence starter!

something  looks  fiery  in  her  eyes,  he  can  smell  anger  bubble  up  in  her.  the  night  air  is  cold  and  damp  but  all  she  has  on  is  a  sheer  night  gown,  barrel  of  the  gun  pointed  directly  at  him.  somewhere  deeper  within  the  house  addy  must  still  be  sulking.  he  can  smell  it  from  out  here.

“  oh  god,  can  you  make  my  heart  stop?  ”      he  looks  down  the  barrel  of  the  gun,  hands  in  the  air  playfully.  does  she  really  plan  on  shooting  him?  would  he  mind  if  she  did?  are  they  silver  bullets?       “  hit  me  with  your  killshot,  baby.  ”

it  was  a  stretch  coming  here  searching  for  comfort.  they  barely  knew  each  other,  and  he  thought  that  would  be  enough  to  salvage  what  little  relationship  they  had  —  the  interconnectedness  of  all  of  these  people  is  really  a  thorn  in  his  side.  he's  losing  everyone,  or  so  he  likes  to  tell  himself.  feels  better  to  nail  himself  to  the  cross  and  make  himself  a  victim  then  to  take  accountability. 

“  i  mean  it  so  serious.  ”

[fleshfruits]

it's eleven o'clock on a sunday evening in their quiet, repulsively wealthy corner of San Francisco; shooting him would be a nuisance, and killing him even more so. murder is hot gossip in their circle, and she's rather enjoyed not being the talk of the town for a while. but everyone returns to that stage eventually, with one grotesque display of need or another.

“i could have an angel irradiate every cell in your body in slow motion—or have holy water dripped in your eyes 'til it wears holes straight through your skull. there's nothing i would not do to you.”

her voice is measured, even lightly pleasant. she lowers the hammer.

“but my husband is a better man than i am. you can thank God for that.”

[fleshfruits]

so she isn't the only one who talks around the way things were like it's a beast coiled at their feet, poised to strike. and maybe it's cruel to take comfort in that, but at least she comes by it honestly. she's always favored him that way.

“forgive me, father. i was raised by barbarians who taught me everything a god did was sacred.”

even the old trees forget themselves from time to time—whisps of laughter escape from shadows of the wood, stirring up leaves and shooing a host of sparrows from their perch on nearby branches.

“that makes two of us, anyway. i'm not holding it against you.”

and there, in all its sudden confounding sincerity, is the admission her pride still won't let her make in so many words. i didn't know any better.

[malicemead]

He studies her quietly for a moment. She’s handled him well so far, taken his provocation in stride and maintained her dignity, staying true to herself and her position without lashing out and offending forces greater than her. Worthiness is never fully proven; it is life’s perpetual conversation, the uphill battle one chooses to fight—but today, at least, she is consistent. He respects this. Perhaps he will sweeten the bitter ash on his tongue, if only a little. 

          “So you’ve come to thank me,”          he says, sighing; with his breath, a warm breeze dances through the brush.          “With words alone?”

He could ask, too, the same question she may have for him: Why now? But the answer would likely be just the same as his: Why not? It is where the wind has moved him today; it is where her mind moved her. Forces of nature do consider the significance of timing: it is afterward that meaning is ascribed, carved into the experience like rune to rock.

[fleshfruits]

delilah spent months fashioning roadkill bones into buckles, tanning goat hide in the summer heat, and poring over the precise topography of every stitch—but a man had to die for the offering to mean anything. a man who, while loving her more shrewdly than anything imagined in her private longings, may never truly forgive her. and what a bitter, delirious thrill that is. gods cast their shadow on the earth with swarms of these beloved monsters, and while there's much she can fault them for, that isn't one.

“for once, i think i've said enough."

it's a simple thing, by any craftsman's standards. a sheath of full grain leather, quite a dark red, almost burgundy, with loops for fastening to a belt; carved fox and coyote bones where the metal hardware would be. the dagger itself isn't large or especially ornate, but for all her strange appetites, there's still old blood on the blade.

[fleshfruits]

now it's her turn to question the kindness of a stranger in the woods. after all, she's been caught doing something awfully peculiar on his property, and curiosity can drive people to extremes that power can only dream of. his minimumal range of expression is also vaguely unnerving, under the circumstances. but—as elijah would say—paranoia is a conceited state of mind. it almost always gives us too much credit. blunted affect is common to a number of pathologies, incluing some her own, most of which are perfectly harmless. her hesitancey passes. they need to get out of the elements anyway.

“what kind of scientist, exactly? you've never seen anything like that, but you have seen something.”

the ceremonial blade is last to be tucked away.

“and coffee's good for me, thank you.”

[med1c1nal]

          “I work in pharmaceutical science.”          He turns around, starting to walk in the direction of the house.          “But I like to be well-studied elsewhere, too.” 

What would he call his private work? Still pharmaceutical research, in a sense, but it’s much broader than that now. Biology. Experimental science. Perhaps a vague term would be suitable, like naturalism. Unnaturalism.

He says none of this.

After a meandering journey through the woods and over a rather steep hill, the house comes into view, elevated among the trees. He climbs the stairs and opens the door for his guest first. A fluffy white cat comes to investigate, sniffing the stranger’s ankles with utmost suspicion.

          “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll put on the coffee.”         A pause.         “I never asked your name.” 

[fleshfruits]

“delilah. what's yours?”

the first clap of thunder is so loud that she jumps. the steady thrum of rain follows hastily behind it, and she collapses with relief and laughter on the couch. if she actually gets what she asked for, they may be stuck here for a while. profuse apologies are made to the cat for causing such a fright, accompanied by attempts to beckon her onto the cushions.

the house reminds her of elijah's—just beyond the reach of the world.

"are you always so chill with trespassers?

she may have been invited to satiate his curiosity, but she certainly has her own.

[wickdcreatures]

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⋆⁺₊⋆🪦  ⋆⁺₊ ⋆⁺₊⋆ you're  so  tired  of  this  life  /  can  i  stand  in  your  LIGHT?  /  you  don't  see  what  i  see  in  you  /  i  just  want  to  BE  WITH  YOU      [  …  ]     WICKDCREATURES: an indie  original character  HORROR  /  FOLKLORE  inspired  multimuse  written  by  specter.  DEAD  DOVE  DO  NOT  EAT.  18+

[fleshfruits]