Dexter Morgan (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mydarkpassenger) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} colligo_threads,@ 2010-11-05 00:38:00 |
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| Entry tags: | !closed, dexter morgan, jim moriarty |
WHO: Dexter Morgan and James Moriarty
WHAT: A murder. With added sociopath.
WHERE: Apartment 505C
WHEN: Around midnight.
RATING/STATUS: High, for murder and gore. In progress.
The frightened babbling stopped instantly.
The blood pooled out slowly, and Dexter let out a long, releasing sigh as it seeped gently through the plastic wrap. The wrap that was stretched tight over a pale chest, holding the naked body to the table in the centre of the room. The knotted muscles in Dex's broad shoulders relaxed, like a weight being lifted. It couldn't have been held off any longer. He'd tried to placate the dark passenger with animals. Dogs, left carelessly and stupidly in the park for children to find. That had been an accident. He hadn't meant to upset the kids. But even animals only worked for a while, and before long he was here again. The dark passenger in the back of his head scratching, calling. The pressure in his chest building.
Dexter sighed, watching the light exit the man's eyes, the final breath seep uselessly from his punctured chest. A single cut, severing the aorta. Clean. Perfect. A shadow of a smile crossed Dexter's lips. It had been difficult, finding someone who fitted in with Harry's code in this city of drones and heros. Perhaps even this man wasn't completely perfect, didn't fit exactly. But Harry wasn't here. And Dexter had a need that had to be filled.
With a sigh, he turned away from the table, striding across the room. Plastic sheeting covered the walls and floor, blood already dripping down to pool under the table. The light was dim, creating a strange blueish hue that lit his face and coloured the black plastic apron he'd tied around his neck and waist. Dexter placed the knife he'd used to make the first cut down beside the rest of the carefully arranged instruments. It was strange, how easily a serial killer's arsenal could be collected together.
Dexter flipped down the protective visor to cover his face and flexed his fingers in their rubber gloves. No leaving bodies in the park for children this time. Just because he was somewhere else did not mean he had to abandon the ritual completely.
The blood pooled out slowly, and Dexter let out a long, releasing sigh as it seeped gently through the plastic wrap. The wrap that was stretched tight over a pale chest, holding the naked body to the table in the centre of the room. The knotted muscles in Dex's broad shoulders relaxed, like a weight being lifted. It couldn't have been held off any longer. He'd tried to placate the dark passenger with animals. Dogs, left carelessly and stupidly in the park for children to find. That had been an accident. He hadn't meant to upset the kids. But even animals only worked for a while, and before long he was here again. The dark passenger in the back of his head scratching, calling. The pressure in his chest building.
Dexter sighed, watching the light exit the man's eyes, the final breath seep uselessly from his punctured chest. A single cut, severing the aorta. Clean. Perfect. A shadow of a smile crossed Dexter's lips. It had been difficult, finding someone who fitted in with Harry's code in this city of drones and heros. Perhaps even this man wasn't completely perfect, didn't fit exactly. But Harry wasn't here. And Dexter had a need that had to be filled.
With a sigh, he turned away from the table, striding across the room. Plastic sheeting covered the walls and floor, blood already dripping down to pool under the table. The light was dim, creating a strange blueish hue that lit his face and coloured the black plastic apron he'd tied around his neck and waist. Dexter placed the knife he'd used to make the first cut down beside the rest of the carefully arranged instruments. It was strange, how easily a serial killer's arsenal could be collected together.
Dexter flipped down the protective visor to cover his face and flexed his fingers in their rubber gloves. No leaving bodies in the park for children this time. Just because he was somewhere else did not mean he had to abandon the ritual completely.