continued from x - @thedevilskids
„Sloth?“, John asked with a smirk as he lazily traced a patch of unharmed skin on Jacob’s chest with his index finger, already thinking about how nice his brother would look covered in blood. „Have you been too lazy to preach Joseph’s words? Culled your herd too much, or not enough?“ With a little giggle he turned away and excitedly rubbed his hands together before he grabbed the dead Peggy and threw him to the side as if he was a piece of garbage, not a now dead human being, then he made a welcoming gesture towards his brother. “Come, sit.” John smiled as Jacob sat down in the torture chair, his face blank as he already knew well what was about to happen, he was a very regular customer of John’s torture chamber. Jacob was a huge part of Eden’s Gate, but he still was an even bigger sinner. John would never admit it, but he was terrified of Joseph, he was terrified of his family moving on to Eden’s Gate, to the new world, without him, like Joseph always threatened when John was overwhelmed by his anger and hatred for everyone around him. ‘You have to love them, John.’ This sentence buzzed through his head constantly like a mosquito does by his ear when he was trying to sleep. And it made him so angry.
Out of the sudden John was hit by another wave of rage and with a frustrated screamed he started to kick the corpse by his feet several times, then taking a deep breath, brushing some loose strands of hair out of his face, turning to his brother with the usual charming smile. “So, where were we?”
His gaze wandered back to Jacob, who was still patiently waiting in the chair, and something about the expression in the ex-soldiers eyes fuelled his anger again. Wordless he stepped over to Jacob, pushing his already open shirt off his shoulders to completely snatch the fabric away, exposing the whole toned upper body. It was muscular but covered in all kinds of scars; scars left by bullets and fire, but also scars thin and thick left by knives. John’s knives. Those scars were proof of Jacob’s sins and John’s anger, but also for his love. ‘You have to love them, John.’ He loved one person, why couldn’t that be enough.
John parted Jacob’s legs with his knee so he could comfortably stand between them, his knife was back in his hand and without a word or warning he started to cut the S for sloth into a patch of skin right below Jacob’s left collarbone. Blood was spilling immediately and for John that was always a moment of fascination. It was just so raw and wild to be covered in another person’s blood, and that was the moment he got carried away again, blacking out, and as he cut the vertical line for the L he cut deeper than necessary which could also bring trained soldiers to let out the tiniest of hissing sounds. Immediately John looked up with anger, like a teacher would stare at his students when they did something wrong.
Very slowly John leaned back and put his knife on the little table next to the chair and as he turned to face Jacob again, he looked at his older brother with utter disappointment. “What’s wrong, brother? Does your sin hurt too much?” The second letter on Jacob’s chest was bleeding profoundly, the red liquid running down his stomach and colouring the hem of his trousers red as well. John brushed his fingers over the wounds, only to smear the blood over Jacob’s lips and beard. “You’re such a fucking sinner”, he hissed before he kissed Jacob on the mouth hard.
