This blog will contain topics related but not limited to: violence, gore, trauma, religious themes, suicidal ideations, emotional/physical abuse, and more. Be safe.
โHeโs watched people move in and out of this building, watched as they tore it down and built it back up again โ always changing, always growing โ and he remembers from the very beginning as he watched the masked people in white carry out his body to perform who knows what on it. He remembers the walls rattling and his yells as he tried and tried to gain their attention, anyoneโs attention, to tell them that he was here, Iโm still here. Now, all he can do is watch. Watch the world go by, watch more people move in and out, and stand by and dwell in his eternal life here in silence and solace.
What a tragedy.โ
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There's a squeaking of wooden tiles in the corner of the room, which the camera follows. The night vision doesn't catch anything, but the voice, abrasive and prodding, continues.
"You're causing people a lot of trouble lately, from what I hear. Are you gonna make this hard on us? We just want to talk."
"Kevin, come on. I'm tired over hereโ"
A new voice comes from behind the camera and it whips around to face the source of it. A man with enough boyish youth to seem like they don't know life's direction yet stands with an additional camera at a reluctant ready, pulling his beanie down over his ears with a huff and a shiver.
"We're not done yet. We need to have some kind of solid evidence here."
"What's the point of all this, man? We've been set up for hours. Nothing's gonna show, and I'm starving."
"I made you a sandwich, and you didn't want it."
"I don't eat fucking salami, you know this!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Princess." The camera falls from its previously held up position, barely a leg in frame as they argue. "I didn't realize you filling up your belly some more was more important than not getting evicted."
"Hey, fuck you. You know I do whatever you want, but this is crazy. You don't actually believe in this stuff, do you?"
"Of course I do." The camera moves back up, facing the hall and slowly beginning a path towards it. In the darkness, even with the night vision provided, it seemed endless. "Too many people have died in this place for it to be a coincidence. These people saw their dad get flung across the room like he weighed nothing. You suppose they're paying us just so we can hear them lie?"
"No, but I'm also not ruling out that they're just paranoid and that 'dad' tripped pretty hard against the wall."
"Yeah, well, better safe than sorry." The sound of rustling is faint behind the camera before a radio device is pointed out in the direction of the dark hallway. A button is pressed and white noise fills the room continuously. "Why don't we try talking to each other? Can you tell me your name?"
The camera whips back around to the man behind Kevin, anticipation lacing his voice. "What?!"
"...Nothing happened."
"For fuck's sake, โโโโโโ . If you're gonna make jokes the whole time, why even come?" Frustrated, the camera lowers back down, close to the radio device. Too close, unfortunately, as it muffles the sound of the men arguing. White noise overtakes the audio of the footage.
The camera shifts, bumping against the radio as itโs pulled further up in between them. The silence of the room, interrupted by the white noise, returns. The men donโt speak for three long seconds.
The radio drops from Kevin's hand with a curse, vibrating violently against the wooden floorboards as the word is repeated. They both step away from it, โโโโโโ further away than his friend. "Fuckโ an interference, you said?!"
"Shit, man, let's just fucking leave, please. This is creeping me outโ"
"But we're finally getting what we need! All we need's a visual andโ"
"I said I want to leave, Kevin!" โโโโโโ turns on his handheld radio, the sound of footsteps reaching further away accompanying him. "Sam, Alex, come help me pack upโ"
"We're not leaving yet, โโโโโโ." Kevin sets the camera down on the floor opposite the spirit box, walking quickly over to the other man and turning him around by his shoulder. "Nothing's gonna happen. You gotta help me with this."
"We're heading in. What's with all the yelling in there, guys?" Sam speaks over the radio, the distant sound of a car shutting following suit.
"Everything's fine." Kevin responds over the handheld radio before โโโโโโ can, lowering it back down and ignoring the questions that come through the speaker. "Listen. You know I've never done you wrong, and this time won't be any different. We'll just get one visual, one, and we'll be on our way. Can you indulge me this one last time?"
Apprehensive silence follows Kevin's request.
"I'll make you a real sandwich if you do, I promise."
"...Fine." โโโโโโ huffs, uncomfortably shifting where he stands. The things he does for his damn friends.
The front door opens, and Sam joins the two after closing the front door. "Alex is getting the van ready. I thought you two were old-couple bickering just now."
Kevin turns to look at Sam behind him, a small smile finally crossing his face. "Nothing a good talk doesn't fixโ"
Something sharp and black, like shadows materialized, pierces through Sam's skull, sending the body down onto the floor. A blood-curdling sound tore from someone's throat, but it's hard to tell from who. It all happens so quickly.
It takes down one target and immediately looks for the next.
In frame, there's the sight of Kevin being flung to the other end of the hallway and hitting the wall with a painfully loud thud. A scream, now identifiably โโโโโโ, follows soon after as he tries to run, only to trip over the camera.
What happens next is unimportant. Just know it wasn't my fault.
I didn't mean to. It's so hard to stop once it starts.
Those guys sure did sign Oliver for a quite a few accounts! One in particular has been posting often enough, an email sent out to him nearly every week with a new clip. Almost two months since, and now thereโs a little surprise.
โThank you for supporting me for over two months! As a special present, you get to have a short, personalized video. Check out my latest video for an idea or two.โ
A counter is displayed in the top right corner, currently set to zero. Ambrose is laid out, legs spread in front of the camera. Idly touching his swollen tdick, occasionally jolting his hips upwards before heโs forced back into place. โMaster, Iโll do whatever you want. Just promise me you wonโt stop.โ
Dragging a vibrator over his skin, the actor lets himself relax into the rhythmic buzzing. Cunt twitching as it nears, but pulled away in the opposite direction just as itโs about to give him some relief. The process repeats, until Ambroseโs cunt is bright red and puffy from the abuse. Finally holding the toy down against his arousal, his thighs clamping around it as he screams.
The counter goes up to one.
@waveringfaith
No matter how popular Oliver may be in the public eye, he's still as reserved as ever.
His friends don't quite understand why. With his looks, his wealth, his 'decent personality', who wouldn't want a chance with him? Their words, not his. But it wasn't as simple as they worded it. He had an image to maintain, a future to think about. The possibility of having a partner who wouldn't either use him or leave him was high and causing more stress than he'd like. So his friends left the topic of relationships at that.
Then proceeded to tell him he should get laid instead. That mortified him immensely.
One of them had managed to snatch his phone and quietly sign him up for multiple special subscription-basedย apps while he argued with the others about it, leaving him to later find out about it once he was alone in his own home. It was clear most of the accounts he'd been subscribed to were chosen at random, given how varied the different kinds of content each account provided, but he wasn't going to think about it. He didn't waste any time before deleting and unsubscribing from the accounts.
Most of them, at least.
He was going to delete it, that he can swear on, but he'd justโ he'd gotten a glimpse of a cover for a video and the creator just had such a way with words...
So yes. He didn't delete all of them. But no one needed to know about it, so was there really any harm done?
He gets the email towards the end of a long day in the office, and he finds himself sitting up in his chair and looking up to check the door. It wasn't left ajar, and he's fairly sure everyone has left at this point. Eyes flitting back to the link leading to their latest video, he debates it. He should wait until he gets home. He should ignore it. He should push his phone away in shame and let the Earth swallow him for even keeping the subscription in the first place.
He should do a lot of things. But he still presses the link, and thank goodness for that, because he feels the air leave his lungs immediately.
His ask to not stop, his gorgeous begging, the way he teases himself until he's desperate, the counter...
Shame eats away at him slowly as he slips a hand down to palm at his slowly hardening cock through his slacks, eyes never leaving the video as he lets out a shaky breath. He's going to be here longer than he anticipated.
Maybe he should take advantage of that personalized video.
The sharp bitter chill of the sea rushes over his feet now and although his body trembles with the exertion it takes for him to endure it, he still forces himself here in this very position. It's what he needed, to feel something, anything at all. It's also his punishment.
His comrades, their suffering, it was nothing compared to what Oliver felt now as the waves crashed in closer and whipped drops of its salty water onto his skin. With each interruption of the warmth clinging onto what it could of his body, the more he hoped it would have no where else to go. He wanted to be soaked down to the bone, he wanted to hurt, he wanted to pay for all he did and didn't do.
So many young men, smiling and laughing before reality hit them.
So many young menโ
So many boys dead.
And he couldn't save them.
He couldn't save him.
Oliver gave him his coat, he made a fire, he held him close. He did all he could and all there was at his disposal, but it didn't work. He still died in his arms, recounting memories of his family and how happy he's going to be once he sees them again. He said he was so tired, he was just going to go to sleep for a little while and Oliver watched him sleep and never wake up. Oliver tried to do the same, but life had other plans. I always seemed that way. He just couldn't die.
But everyone else, oh they died. So quickly. You never realize how much blood a person holds in their body until they're shot and stabbed and blown up into pieces in front of you. You never know how useless you truly are until you leave the army only able to count the lives you saved on one hand and the others on hundreds of detached fingers that aren't your own.
Water gets on his face and his eyes begin to burn. The sea's doing, surely.
The ocean comes in closer, reaching his thighs and nearly dragging him in. He gasps for air in the midst of his distress, gripping the sand below his with shaking hands and feeling a horrible wailing sound escape his throat. His chest hurts, an aching settling deep inside the hollow space alongside his soul. He shouldn't be here. Why did he get to stay? What made him different from all the others? He definitely wasn't special, so why?
His knees move to bring him closer into the crashing waves, eyes screwed shut as his hand clutches the tag hanging from a chain, but he feels arms hurriedly pull him back and away from the shore before he can let it take him. No, no, no, noโ
"โno, please, I need to!" His voice is raw and anguished, fighting against the hold on him with the strength left in his inept body until he can only collapse against the warmth of another one. "Please, just let it take me, Iโ I can't, I can't do it anymore, I can't..."
"I know. I know, darling, I know."
Marc feverishly holds him close as he lets tonight's anguish get the better of Oliver in the form of pain tearing through his throat as if for the first time. He breaks down again, just like he did the day before and how he will do tomorrow.
I don't wanna choose between being a salesman or a soldier.
Just let me look a little older, let me step a little bolder.
Choose between being a butcher or a pauper.
Honey, I'm taking no orders, gonna be nobody's soldier.
