Thread: It's All Relative (Monster Teeth and Verse)

He hadn't slept. After he sent off the list there were things to take care of. Wiping up after himself for one, and then quietly reminisce over Liza's expressions while her fear turned in to pain. The physical result had been more important than the impact he had on her, but it was hard not to dedicate some time to see the skin on her face contort in different displays of agony. She had shown her teeth to hiss a couple of times, wrinkles on her forehead and smoothness of her eyelids suggesting she wasn't fighting at that point, but trying to take it, trying to see it through. Like a virgin hoping to handle her first time without crying. At that time, though, Liza had already been streaked by the tears she shed. It had been easy to lure her into euphoria. At first her reactions had been fear, desperation, anger. Those things and the scalpel eventually washed her brain in so many new cocktails of endocrine produce that she literally did not know what to think or how to feel. The last thing she had held on to before the lethargic state was her confusion, trying desperately to get him to explain to her why he was doing this. She had recognized him eventually, that friend by Alexandria's side, that one time when they met in the grocery store. How many times had Liza promised to betray Lexi for him, if only he'd stop? In the light of the warehouse he had chosen for her, one not too long from her final performance, he could see the wounds clear, stark, the red of her exposed insides and the white of her skin a pretty candy contrast. Had it not been for her darker organs and her gray parts, he could very well have made her an appealing bust, even for the layman. But that wouldn't have been her dream. No. Instead her carried on with his mission, circling her body twice with the blades he could easily access from the medical facilities at the University. It had been a chore to ruffle the skin like fabric and fasten it around her waist, especially when she was still moving. Ample preparation had saved the day. Then the upper part of her neck had become tassels for the lower part - a pretty little chocker. By then she was caught in her own little world of Stockholm Syndrome, and granted him smiles whenever he was able to cause her a specific king of pain. She seemed to favor pressure from his hands onto free nerves in her building madness. By the time he strung her up and her arms were busy keeping her insides on the insides, he looked lovingly at him whenever he phased out of her dreams. They made a game out of rocking her on the steel frame. Her giggles were dry. When he had gone through every detail of his first and last date with the ballerina that could never reach her ambition in life, the dawn had come, and he had many ideas for the next person he would highlight in Alexandria's life. It would be a closer friend of her sister's. Best friend. Humming on his favorite melody from Disney when they still bothered to draw their cartoons, he got dressed. With the morning entering his room, the reflection on his skin became almost so foreign to that of an average retelling of sun rays that it was good he was alone. The gift of beauty, simply. It was quickly covered by many layers of dark fabric. Glasses on his sharp nose, so that the lenses could dull the quality of his eyes, color of silver mixed with too much milk. On occasion, when they were studying across from each other, Lexi had remarked on them, and he'd quickly have to diver the conversation. He couldn't appear modest either, instead he had to completely convince his environment that he was indeed as mundane as he seemed to be. If by any chance they suspected it was a front to hide advantages he wanted to save for his 'extra curricular' interests, he quickly thwarted their find by saying something mean or otherwise belittle his own blessings toward the goal of becoming unattractive. The hair was ruffled and awkwardly drawn to the side. His naturally straight posture was replaced by a subtle hunch that made his clothes even less flattering. The Ingram she knew was a bit of a mouth breather. One look in the mirror to make sure he had once again become a smart person with a dumb expression, and then he was off, computer in his khaki one-strap bag. Having finished a number of errands to pass the time, he found himself through the door of The Red five minutes to twelve. He chose a table a little off to side, well visible from the entrance when she came, but away from the direct view of the windows. There would be plenty of students and shoppers coming in to fill the place soon, let them take the seats that would turn his skin into fire. The lap-top sat heavy in front of him, all but empty bag slung over the back of his chair, gaping open. The decor here was homely, with a few details that still made it look professional. The owners or at least the designers of The Red knew what they were doing, impressing without alienating. He curved his back to loom over the computer. He knew a lot of his act was lost on Lexi, she didn't care how her friends looked, but the surrounding world still needed to be convinced he was no one special. Undoubtedly, there was an affinity between him and her, a natural one, so he still tried his best to be as unavailable for a connection as possible, and sometimes bordered on the rude, trying to be abrasive. Perhaps this was the biggest threat to his plans, rather than any of her colleagues ever finding clues in his flawlessly gutted and displayed prey. He let her know that he was at the place via a text.