❝I ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ғᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ, ғᴏʀ I ᴀᴍ ғᴇᴀʀ.❞
⭐ LV 100 Zangoose
⭐Merciless Lord and ruler of the House of Capulet, Castelia's most ruthless assassins
⭐ Non-lewd #Pokemon#RP
❝Wᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟғ, Mᴏɴᴛᴀɢᴜᴇ.❞
@UnovianHood Just then, it was like the stars outside the window became glass bullets rocketing toward him, flying everywhere.
All that remained was a bloody fist, or stump, or /something/ resembling a punch.
Capulet slithered through the jagged rupture as elegantly as a popped tire.
@UnovianHood Eyeball piercing the blade.
A smile ripped out of the flesh.
Eyeball tracing something not there.
"That's right.
Good boy.
Cut through that glass for me.
Let that sharpened pitch tickle my ear."
That is not your fucking floor creaking.
Nor your walls.
"I'm pressed against your window, and it's crackling like my bones, Maxwell.
My skeleton is incomplete, Maxwell.
My skin is open, Maxwell.
I dragged my bones here, Maxwell.
I can't feel pain anymore, Maxwell."
Memories are my cute little ghosts.
I tickle them sometimes, just to hear them laugh time and time again.
So haunting.
The goosebumps I get are like an aphrodisiac's effect.
The withdrawals are painful.
. . .
I think I only exist as a memory, too.
Who tickles me?
Me?
Rainy. Itchy. Smelly.
That scent was always there, so thick that it dripped.
Drops of snot, rain, blood.
Drops of him.
Drops of Maxwell.
Stains unwiped, like a birthmark.
Once eye molding,
one eye molding on the image of that orange stain.
Maxwell.