Deviation Actions
Feeling violated, was an understatement compared to the humiliation that the cripple felt. His body, dripping with body fluids that were not his own by any means. His cloths, which lie in tatters on the floor, were blood stained just as he was. Feeling shame was difficult, especially for someone who had just been 'raped'.
He flinched, as an arm, from another presence in the room, wrapped itself around its maker tightly, as if to prevent any kind of escape. "I had fun last night, Sick." The way his name had been said had caused tears to form around the tear ducts of his eyes. He felt small, he felt the need to die.
The other began to hum, getting out of bed and got dressed. His body was blood stained as the handicappers own along with the fresh oily hair he had received from all the sweat shaded the night before. The Sick Simon eyes turned to his own articles of clothing and stared blankly at them.
'What on earth am I supposed to wear?!' The idea floated across his mind until he heard his name be called. Glancing in the direction of where the, as he now put it, 'monster' stood, he saw a fully clothed man in the place of previously nudged one earlier.
"Now, Sicky" He came and sat on the edge of the mattress. The young man flinched when a hand reached and tilted his head to look the other in the eye. "You must be sure not to tell ANYONE about last night's event, m'kay? Or else I'll be very mad with you."
The Book version of himself looked quite frighteningly serious, possibly even psychotically sterile. Which both knew, or at least the Sick man knew, was quite unusual for him. He must have been staring blank into space for a moment as he felt the other roughly shake his shoulders.
"Oh Sick! I asked you a question! God dam answer it!"
Sick pounced back in fear, head hitting the back of the head poll behind him. Seething from the pain, the teen felt unable to reply or move as the other grabbed hold of his chin in a tight grip. He then became vaguely aware in his mind that the other was becoming impatient.
" I asked you, are you not going to ANYONE right?!"
The cripple nodded his head slowly, his conscience still stuck from the pain of hitting the post, and the event that took place last night. The blood covered male smiled at this, satisfied with the response, and stood from the bed, making his way from the bedroom.
Once he heard the door slam silently, the young man leaned over and began to cry. Memories from the earlier hours played mockingly in his mind. He felt like he was a small child again. feeble, afraid, and desperate for consolation. The type that wasn't though, the one where it left you feeling broken and worthless.
No, he wanted the one where he could be held close with true, genuine affection. That though, was impossible itself. He knew no one wanted him, not even himself.
