Infatuation ⏐(ᐯKOOK)

☓ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 ☓

ɪᴅᴋ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴛʙʜ
ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛ, ʟᴇᴛ
ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪʟʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ɪᴛ

ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴀᴇ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴄᴏᴏʟ ᴛʜᴏ
(ㆆᴗㆆ)*✲ﾟ*｡⋆
- ʟᴜɴᴀ
_______________________________

The orange haired male stared down at his shaking hands, eyes vacant and expression unreadable. He watched stoically, as they quivered and shook, unable to cease the movement no matter how much he wished too.
It was as if he had lost control over the limbs, like they were no longer a part of him but of someone else unknown.

Finally finding the will to move again, he leaned back on his palms, using the leverage to unsteadily lift himself to his feet. Breathing heavy, and body trembling, he closed his eyes as he tried to flush the burning adrenaline out of his system.

This was how he always felt after one of his violent episodes. Body on fire, thoughts all scrambled and vision blurry. He would become trapped in his own body, a soulless puppet with a one track mind and an unbreakable will to kill. (ʜᴀ ɪ ʀʜʏᴍᴇᴅ -)

One may even compare him to a bomb of some sort. Unpredictable, dangerous and ready to go off at any time. In fact, it was very easy to ignite the burning rage within him. A simple graze of the hand, a smile that lasts just a bit too long - even a distant gaze from meters away.

Anything and everything could set him off.

The dazed yet uncaring teenager looked down, eyes gazing over the corpse in front of him. The body lay twisted and contorted, limbs strewn about at odd angles and head bent sharply to the side. The girl's mouth hung open, jaw locked in utter terror.

The thought that her last view on this Earth had been one of his own grinning face, filled him with a sort of dull joy that worked to bring him down from his erratic state.

Now once again in complete control of his body, he reached down towards his victim and worked to retrieve the knife that still remained inside her. He gave a tug, finally freeing the weapon that was tightly lodged in her ribcage.

Wiping his blood stained hands onto his clothes (though this didn't help much since they were quite bloody as well), he grabbed the body by its left foot, the black high-heel that had adorned it before lost somewhere in the scramble.

To his dismay, this girl had put up quite the fight, leaving him with a jagged scratch across his torso. Those heels could definitely do more damage than he had first thought and he decided to keep this is mind for future reference.

Dragging the corpse to the dumpster behind him, he stopped in front of it and let go of the leg he had been using as a handle.

Taking a small break, he took a step back and sighed. The girl was very light, but after fighting of her feeble attempts of survival his body was aching with newly forming bruises and scratches.

Looking down at the annoyance that had caused him this pain, he noticed a small bracelet hanging on her slender wrist.

Interest peaked, he reached down and yanked the jewelry off of her, not caring when the chain snapped into two pieces.

It was actually very beautiful, with small silver charms encrusted with diamonds and a small metal tag engraved with her name in fancy writing.