|Jason Wyngarde (_mastermind_) wrote in athinblackline,|
@ 2009-03-11 21:22:00
|Entry tags:||mastermind, wild child|
Who: Mastermind OT Wild Child
What: Jason has a nightmare and it launches him into his illusions
When: 3am Wednesday March 11th
Where: Jason's manor
Notes: PG-13; mention of violence and sex
The night had gone smoothly, and after the more recent happening the old man had decided to forgo the liquor tonight. His common nightcap of brandy or whiskey had been replaced by a cup of strong tea, the extract having it's own logical properties. The man relaxed into his bed, pulling covers over his almost naked form. The comfort of satin sheets whispering over soft skin was it's own comfort as he huddled into blankets and pillows. It only took a few moments before he slept, the last thought on his mind touching upon each of the important people in his life. Images of memories, smiles, loving looks all danced about in his mind before his eyes closed and his mind turned off on it's conscious level.
It only took a moment to realize that he was dreaming, the softness of his bed felt like her skin again and he smiled to himself. He could hear her heart beating, it's soft rhythm slowly calming. Their love making had been vicious and soft, comforting and fierce, demanding and yielding in it's own right. They had always joked that it wasn't something that anyone else would have understood, but it was their way, and it would continue to be their way. She shifted under his weight, skin against skin, warning him that he was growing heavy for her before she turned on her side. He moved, sitting up, and looking to her face, his smile gentle. His fingers whispering across her stomach, his thoughts on the children they had mentioned and never fully discussed. "Yes." Her voice was sure, solid, and confident as it rang sounding suddenly wrong in the comfort of the room around him. "Yes, they are there. Two of them. Daughters." He blinked, the dawning realization of her statements growing over him as excitement started taking hold. "You mean...I...have daughters?" He grinned like a fool, his hands moving in an instant to hold her against him. She shifted away. "There are children, but they will never be yours, you sick freak." Her eyes turned hard and glittered malice and hate like jewels adorning her disposition. "I'm taking them back to my parents house, and they will never know what kind of a cold hearted bastard their father is." She shifted back, off their bed, her naked form supple and stunning in the fading daylight before she reached over and picked a small blade from the bedside table. It's metallic sound rang in his ears before he could think about it further, and she lunged at him shrieking. "All I wanted was your seed, your power for my own. All I needed was that and now you are worthless. Worthless. You fucking bastard, you sick fool. Did you believe that I loved you?" He screamed, he writhed, every pierce of the blade in his skin was agony as the tears spilled down his cheeks, falling as sweet rain for the desert.
And as fast as it had happened it was all over. There was still movement, however, and a soft touch on his cheeks. The pain from before dissipating like a strange dream that fades from the mind like the light of day. A scream died on his lips before he opened his eyes. No longer his wife, but Lilly met his gaze, her smile soft and gentle. She was always so gentle to him. "Are you alright?" Concern laced her voice, such a familiar tone. Those eyes always so comforting, so caring, so wonderful, looked on him again, and he melted to her. The tide of fear slipping away slowly as she curled into his chest and held him tight. Such a loving girl, such a pleasant woman, and in so many ways she could compliment him and his general desires. And so very often she did, just never in one specific manner. "Jason." Her tone had changed, rapt and direct, the annoyed sound she used when he had crossed a line. It was a warning to him usually, and blinking suddenly, he had no idea what he had done. "Lilly?" She looked up at him and used the back of her hand to shove his now erect member away from her hip. He flushed a bit, not realizing he was so very attentive at that moment, and shifted to keep himself a bit further away from her. "I'm sorry, my dear girl. I had no intention..." She snorted, a very unlady like habit she had learned from her brother at a younger age. "Stuff it. I don't believe you. You're such a liar." A slow sadness creeped over the man's face as he listened to his almost lover bullet him with ridicule. She talked him into a stupor, all the things he had ever done to hurt her, to make her feel like less than a woman, they were all coming out at him. He shrank back into the blankets groaning over and over and shaking his head. This wasn't real, this wasn't his Lilly. It couldn't be. A chorus of apologies filtered through his lips over and over again and she turned each one away with another verbal jab. "You just want my body, you disgusting old man." It had been the needle in the haystack, and he tore himself from the bed as she leaned into the only weak spot he had in regards to their situation. He had always been attracted to her, always desired her, and their ages had bothered him in so many ways. He had shared that with her, shared the fear, shared the turmoil, and she had once comforted him. Now she was throwing that same turmoil back at him with greater force behind it. "I know you too well to hide it from me you pedophile." She sneered as she said the word and he turned to her, his eyes full of indescribable emotions. He moved, taking her in his hands by her shoulders and started to shake her, denials screaming through his mind.
A slap to his face brought him out of his movement with a start. His eyes snapped open to look at Gibs standing over him, the boy's blond hair making a halo around their faces. Another pair of concerned eyes, this time Jason wasn't fooled. He scooted back immediately, huddling himself into the corner of his own bed, curled up into the headboard. "NO!" He ducked his head into his arms to protect his face, emotions too high and confidence too low to face the feral. There was no word of warning, no sense of change, but Jason could feel it. Kyle was going to kill him. He waited and waited, knowing it was there, just waiting for it to happen. After a long pause he looked up, one eye peeking out and saw no one. Nothing. He looked to the right where the boy had just been and unfuled his body from it's crouching position. His long legs uncurled to place his feet on the cool floor and he stood before looking straight ahead again, stopping to see his whelp there, scraps of a collar in shreds on the floor of his bedroom. The boy was bleeding everywhere from head to toe, the fluid pooling on the hardwood on the floor, his eyes holding a dark glint in them. The deadly edge of a knife was bared in the younger man's eyes. "Why are you so scared, Jason? This is what you wanted. I'm your creation, your pet after all. Here I am...why do you fear me?" The older man's hands flew to his mouth, stifling a shocked scream. He had wanted the boy to be safe, to be sound, to be whole, and to be happy. Never this. "Come and admire your handy work. You've taught me well. Fixed my voice, fixed my body, fixed my head..." Kyle stepped clearly into the light, showing his form mangled, twisted, and oozing from wounds that didn't heal. "Maybe it's my turn to teach you..." Faster than he could even see, Kyle lunged forward and knocked them both over, now pinning his owner onto the bed behind him. Long claws collected his body in a tight grip, nails sliding through his remaining garment as if it were air, the sensation of piercing his manhood made him shiver in delicious agony for a very brief moment before the onslaught of that grip shifting as if to pleasure him. A scream was ripped form his lips as his felsh was slowly ranked from his body in small pieces by all too sharp claws. It wasn't pleasure, it was torture.