Secrets [Chaseh//open]

[semper]

There's a lot of things in this world that aren't acceptable, and two of them happen to apply to me: cannibalism and bisexuality. Really -- what's wrong with either of them? I only eat dead bodies; it's not like I run around biting living people. Or do I? And besides, no one has caught my secret yet. So is it really that bad? And liking people of the same gender -- why is it a social taboo? The bitches. They don't know what they're missing. Boys are a helluva lot of fun, too, you know. Besides, it's my life, I can do whatever the hell I want to. And if making love to males and eating human flesh made me happy, then I'll be damned if I don't keep doing it.

Backpack slug over my shoulders, I had my hands in my pockets as I headed home. It was late evening, so there was quite a few other people just strolling along. I was sure to steer clear of them on the narrow dirt road, dark eyes glaring at each person as they passed close by me. I swear, if any of them touched my backpack... they'd be stuffed in it. With a knife in their back. My hand twitched next to the serrated blade's hilt pressed next to my hip, between the waist of my jeans and my skin. What I wouldn't give to have all these bodies piled up in the basement... I'd be set for a good year. But no, I'm stuck scrounging up scraps from the morgue -- and no, I'm not complaining. If it weren't for my job at the morgue, I wouldn't have any flesh to eat at all. I'm pretty damn lucky at the moment.

Entering into the house, I took my backpack off and carefully set it on the table in the kitchen, making sure that the strings on it were drawn tightly closed. I wasn't sure if Gerya was home, but I was almost certain our parents weren't present. For all I knew, they were off screwing other people. Pfftt. Whores....

With a snort I pulled the serrated knife out and held it a few short moments before setting it down on the table next to the meat-filled bag. I'd have to cook it soon, or else it'd go bad. Figures. Things like these always require much more work than I'm really willing to put forward... but I get something good out of it, so it evens out. But for now, I was tired, so I sat down in an old wooden chair that was next to the table; relieved to get off my feet.

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[chaseee]

The door shut, and I could only guess it was Bear returning. Mom and dad wouldn't be home for a few hours yet, and even then they would be in their own little worlds, intoxicated beyond belief.

Hearing something hit the table, I crept down the hardwood stairs, careful to keep my feet light, so as not to alert him of my presence. For some reason I got the impression he wasn't very fond of me.
Sticking my head around the door frame, his figure was visible against the light-coloured couch. He seemed beat. How much energy was needed to work at a stinkin' morgue anway?

A knife lay on the table. No surprise there. I had learned a while back he was fond of carrying a knife on his hip... but what was in the backpack. My thoughts immediately traveled to the gutters. Illegal weapons? Booze? Drugs? Used condoms? All of these seemed very likely for Bear, and I couldn't supress the shudder that ran down my back at the thought of him carrying around one of those fancy Capitol laser guns, or hiding in the bushes at the shabby park down the street, injecting himself with unhealthy fluids.

I carefully approached the teenager sprawled on the couch. It was ironic, really. Approaching Bear as if he were a real bear. I held back a shool-girlish giggle as the image of a grizzly bear sprawled on our furniture surfaced in my mind. It was really what he was like, my brother. A rabid Grizzly.

Carefully stepping around his feet, I throw myself on the couch beside him. Leaning forward, I feel my nose wrinkling up in disgust. The smell of the dead lingered on his clothes. His skin. His very breath. I give a nervous sort of laugh, and lean against the sagging cushions. "Wha-what do you do, eat the people?" I say, with a shaky laugh. Never have I approached him this way. It was uncomfortable. And just... not normal. I loathed him and I'm sure he loathed me. It was just the way it had to be.

I jump from the couch, and circle around the back, hurrying out of the room. I am afraid he will answer me. Answer with something I am sure I don't want to hear. Making my way back into the dining room, his backpack draws my eye again. Sneaking a glance back at my brother, I approach the table, reaching my hand out ever so slowly.
My fingers brushed the soft fabric, and made their way up to the drawstring at the top. I tugged it gently, and felt the restraints give way. The top opened, and giving one last glimpse to seemingly-oblivious Bear, I leaned over to see what in the world he had been hiding.

OOC-Bear may snatch the bag before she can see what's inside if you want. Just... don't let Bear hurt her feelings Dx. She's a curious little prat, but I love her.

[semper]

It's not everyday that I get to just lie around, doing nothing. After a day of collecting bits of flesh for future uses, I liked being able to just let my mind go blank; not pay attention to anything, drift off to sleep even..... the serenity of being unconscious; darkness; tuning everything out that's in the world; not having to deal with other peoples' stupidity.....

I grunt, opening my eyes as I feel a sudden weight next to me. What the hell...?

"When did you get here?" I asked her dumbly, looking at her strangely. Seriously, she must be more stealthy than I had originally thought; but then again, I had pretty much been asleep for what, maybe ten or fifteen minutes at the most? Eh, whatever. I watch her as she jumps up onto the couch and sits next to me, leaning against the cushions. What did she want from me, anyways?

"Wha-what do you do, eat the people?"

Well, now. Gerya just hit my secret dead-on, didn't she? But did she know she did? I don't know. I guess I'll just find out. "Eat the people?" I mutter, though I can't help but snort in laughter. "Of course I do. Every day." Whether she believed me or not didn't matter to me; I don't care. I set my head back against the couch's armrest, muttering under my breath about nothing in particular.

I could feel the cushions shifting as she left, leaving me to once again fall asleep. Serenity once again; peace and quiet, darkness, unconsciousness, no more idiots....

But what was Gerya doing? The biting feeling irked me, rousing me. I growled, reaching a hand up and rubbing my eyes. It's not like my sister's actions ever mattered to me before, but for some reason it did now. It's nothing, I told myself. Just go back to sleep... But then I thought about my backpack that I had left on the table. Was she getting into it? Gerya was always curious... but again, did it really matter? I don't care at the moment.

"If you're going to look in the backpack," I call out to her, settling back onto the couch. "Do it at your own will."





((Lazy!Bear is hard to think of muse for. D: ))

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[chaseee]

Something about the way he said it warned me against looking. If Bear was okay with it, I most certainly was not. I stared hard at the bag, and finally decided against looking.

Grabbing his knife off the table I sneak back to the couch, being sure to stay out of his line of vision. Coming up from the back, I lean over untill I'm right beside his ear, and gently place the knife blade against his throat. "I'm gonna eat your brains!" I don't wait to see if he's scared. I toss the knife onto the cushion beside him, and fall to the floor, laughing hysterically.
The performance had been downright hilarious, what with the voice so similar to Bear's, and playing it off the topic we had been previously discussing. I thought it had been a stroke of pure genious.

Before Bear could turn around and, I don't know, kill me, I jumped up and darted back into the dining room, whipping around to make sure he wasn't following me. The hysteria still lingered, but I was also a little worried. I knew it was a joke, of course, but what about him?
Thinking over it, I realized what I had done probably wasn't as smart as I thought. I had never really played around with him, so what if he thought I was being offensive?

I shook my head, and backed up, starting when I hit my hip against the table. Rubbing the spot, I turned. The damn backpack was still there, of course, mocking me with it's mysteriousness. I leaned forward, and poked it's side, yanking it back the moment it made contact. Whatever was in it... was squishy. Like...
I shook my head, trying to eject the very thoughts from my mind. I wanted nothing to do with the secret held in the thing. I leaned over and pushed it away from me.

But not before I saw what was in it.

My stomach churned. My heart raced. Sweat poured from my brow, as I turned to look back at him. Meat. Raw. Raw meat. That was what had been in there. And it was no kind of meat I had seen cooked. It was (I gagged a little while thinking it, beleive me) human.
I turned around, leaning towards the wooden floor, and felt the bile rising up in my throat. I tried to run to the bathroom, but only made it about halfway, positioning me right beside my brother. The vomit splattered on the floor, hitting the side of the couch and my own two feet. After a few particularly loud and painful coughs, I managed to roll onto the balls of my feet, and look up at Bear.

"What the he-hell, Bear!" I manage, before I'm sent into another coughing fit. I put my hand down to steady myself, and ended up slipping in the vile chunks. At the moment, I was covered in my own vomit, and sweating like a dog. I was related to a killer. But... could Bear kill? Had he already?

OOC-Sorry it sucks so much. Hysteric!Gerya is pretty hard to find muse for too xD

[semper]

So once again I settle back down into the couch, closing my eyes and relaxing my breathing. Why couldn't Gerya leave me alone, anyway? Why was she all jazzed up and running around like a high hooligan? Sheesh. No peace around this house -- ever. I mean really; it's awful. I even have fitful nights most of the time....

And then I feel something cold and sharp against my throat.

My eyes shoot open wide and my gaze goes directly to Gerya, who's suddenly so close to me. I growl at her, quickly reaching out with a hand to grab at her shirt collar, but she's gone before I can reach it. "Damn it, Gerya!" I snap harshly, quickly sitting up as she drops the knife and runs -- laughing hysterically, of course. Why the hell was this funny? Putting a serrated knife to someone's throat and saying you're going to eat their brains isn't funny at all, especially when the victim is a family member.

But wait, don't I do that already? Oh. I had almost forgotten.

So yeah, when I put knives to peoples throats -- which is almost never, mind you; I prefer between the shoulder blades or through the heart -- I actually intend on killing them. But Gerya? No. Just... no. I doubted Gerya could mentally handle seeing dead bodies, let alone actually killing someone. She just didn't seem like the kind of person that could stomach it--

Speak of the devil.

Gerya comes running in like a banshee, looking sickly green. Oh, f***.... before I can move or anything, she upchucks right onto the floor, slips in it, and curls up into a ball. Oh, damn, ohhh damn..... why the hell was this? The smell of dead bodies didn't bother me at all, but the smell of vomit? I could feel my stomach turning already.

"What the hell what, Gerya?" I ask, my voice abnormally pitched. Throwing up all over the floor like that; she must have suddenly caught a deadly bug, or she saw something. "Did you look in the bag?" The thought hit me as strong as the stench of the bile. She certainly must've seen the flesh because there certainly isn't anything as horrid in this house. Other than the vomit, of course, which I swear was going to make me start throwing chunks. "Oh, f***." I muttered, grabbing my knife and quickly scrambling off the back of the sofa, being sure to stay clear of the mess on isle Gerya.

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[chaseee]

----
This is the part of me that needs medication
This is the part of me that beleives in heaven
Thinks outer space is all dead, wishes it was with it
----

His words struck through Gerya's mental haze. Se he hadn't wanted her to look... yet he told her she could if she wanted to. It made absolutely no sense to her. But then again, nothing ever did when it came to Bear.

She shook her head, flinging drops of bile all over the room, and started when he jumped over the back of the couch, running to his bag. And yes, signs that she had looked were everywhere. The backpack wide open, casually pushed aside, tilting over just a bit to the right. Far from the spot Bear had so neatly put it. And she was sure if a Peacekeeper were to take one of those fancyshmancy fingertip lights, Gerya smudges would be found all over the pack. The thought disturbed her. If Peacekeepers did find this, Bear could so easily put it off on her.

Shivering, she layed herself down on the carpeted floor again, this time of her own will, and gently rocked herself, hands wrapped around her caloused knees. Bad thoughts flowed easily through her head, chasing out the good ones. Her parents would come home and see the mess, demand to know the reason, and she would have to sell Bear out. He would be mad, and probably cut her throat in her sleep. Also, Bear now knew that she knew his secret, and he could just as easily do her off for that too.

A bout of naseau passed, and she felt her stomach clench. It was the worse she had felt in years. She very faintly remembered when she got the Floo or whatever it was called when she was eight, and her father (finally taking a break from the lab) had rushed her to one of the few hospitals in District Six. The check-up costed a ton, but he had assured her her health was worth all the money in the world.

She brought her gaze up to Bear and grimaced. Her brother. Her brother the killer. Or, if not a killer, a cannibal. His face brought on another bout, this one stronger than the first. She found herself clutching her sides, although she could not feel the pain that was obviously there. It felt as if her entire body was shutting down.

Staggering to her feet, she stumbled over to her brother, stubbing her foot on the couch legs, and all but falling on top of Bear. She grabbed onto his collar, and layed her head on his shoulder. She was disgusted, but she needed someone to comfort her. She felt dizzy. Lightheaded. She opened her mouth and made this odd croaking sound, before another stream of vomit poured out. "Bear...take me... hospital-" She managed to choke out the string of words before passing out. Right in his arms.

----
Is trying to be funny, loves my parents
Thinks ants are cavemen, all humans are ants
Learns from sitcoms, means nothing
----

[semper]

If there's one thing in the world I can not stand, it's human bile. My gosh -- have you ever smelled that shit? I can't even begin to describe something so vile as such; tastes like a dirt, mud, ground up worm and squirrel malt, too. Not -- that I know what that tastes like. But seriously: I can stomach cutting rotting corpses to ribbons, digesting their flesh, brain, and drinking their blood sometimes, but upchucking? My gosh. Sweet mother Ripred. Ohhhh damn. It's a wonder I wasn't dry heaving already.

I cast a quick glance back at my backpack on the table, noticing how.... exposed its contents were. From where I was behind the couch, I could see some very thin streams of blood dripping down onto the table; fuck, that was going to be difficult to clean up. But, knowing my parents, I doubt they'd really care; their heads are already pretty screwed up. Besides, they're both already busy enough with their--.... ehh..... buisness.

As I turned to look back at Gerya, who was lying curled up on the floor, a thought suddenly hit me: she knew my secret -- the deepest, darkest secret of my very being. My sister knew I was a cannibal, and that could end very badly. If she told anyone, I could end up in jail, or the Detention Center, or publicly whipped or executed, or even worse: avoxed. Hell, being avoxed is worse than death. Not ever being able to talk, having difficulty even eating, oh no -- even though I wouldn't let that stop me from eating people, I wasn't going to let her spill the beans with my secret.

I had opened my mouth to threaten her with everything I could use to blackmail her when she stood up and nearly fell into me, though she grabbed my collar and was against me to stay upright. Okay. Did she not know the meaning of personal space? And not only that, but I was narrowly able to avoid her second coming of ground up worm and squirrel malt, thank God. If she had hit me with that, I would've spewed all over her, too. And not only that, but she passed out right then and there. Against me. Holding onto my collar. Before my mind could really grasp what had just happened, my arms quickly reached out and caught her from falling, an-- whoa, okay now. Since when have I become so soft hearted? Really? This is not good for my ego as if I even have one. But seriously, I need to justify this sensitive moment. Brotherly instinct? Yeah, that sounds good.

"The hospital? Why, just why?" I muttered to myself, my voice trailing off to mutter swears and such. Fucking hell, again with this damn brotherly instinct! I held onto her right arm with my hand, bend down so that my shoulders were at her abdomen, then held onto her right leg. I straightened back up, holding her in a fireman's carry.

Grumbling to myself, I reluctantly headed out of the house -- being absolutely sure I locked everything -- and then headed towards the hospital. I don't have a doubt in my mind as to what other people were thinking when they saw me: an eighteen year old boy carrying an unconscious girl. Sounds kind of sketchy to me, don't you think? But don't get your hopes up; I'm not going to rape Gerya or anything. At least... not yet.

Upon entering the hospital, I was greeted by nothing, really. The place seemed fairly calm: no one was running around, screaming orders. There wasn't a long line of people waiting to be seen, no dull lull of coughs and moans. In fact, other than the receptionist at the desk, Gerya and I were the only ones in there.

The receptionist looked like she had seen a three headed billy goat when she saw me approach the desk carrying my sister.

"Can I help you?" The lady asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Eh, yeah." I answered. "My sister felt really sick and passed out when she seemed just fine, so I just came to get her checked up." The lady stared at me awkwardly for a few moments before pressing a button, and before I knew it some man had entered the room and snatched Gerya off and took her away from me. Well, talk about rude.

I snorted, watching the man take my sister behind double door. I just hoped whatever was wrong with Gerya didn't cost us a fortune. Sheesh. We hardly have enough money as it is, seeing as our parent's business doesn't give them a steady income. Even working at the morgue and the lab, I don't get very much.

I shook my head, turning around and going over to sit as far away from the receptionist lady as I could, pondering my damn softhearted-ness.

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