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[bodyhallowed-blog]

.spiritunholy

          A small sigh escaped between pursed lips as he moves away from her, hand dropping to her side.  She knew the distant look on his face, both of them were well acquainted with it.  He was getting stuck in the past, chasing the rabbit, the memory of their parents’ death mixed with every other casualty they’ve had on the run.  In any other situation, she might have tried to stay sympathetic, to reassure him that things were fine.  But there were too many loose ends here, too many variables that they couldn’t control, and they didn’t have time to waste on burning the bridge here and now.  Except Bryony couldn’t leave without Soren, and he wouldn’t be leaving if he was mid panic attack.

          “ Soren… ”     She slowly drifts towards him again, choosing her movements carefully.  The floorboards of their motel creak under her feet, a sound that drew up memories of sneaking through their childhood home in the middle of the night.  This time she purposefully strays into his personal space, head tilting up to meet his eyeline.  A hand lifts, hesitates, and extends out to grab onto his wrist.  A reminder of where he is now, to ground him.

          “ He doesn’t know what we’ve done. He doesn’t know who we are. Nobody in this town does. If he goes to the police, then they’ll just have a face and nothing else to go off. We clear our tracks and move on, they can’t find us. ”     She had done it once before, when she panicked at their first motel outside of Montana and the concierge met an untimely end partially by her hand.  Snuck into the office and wiped any evidence of them ever staying.  They had gotten better as time went on, but accidents still happened.  Tragedy still befell them. (Because wasn’t that what they were? The Hawkins siblings, the prodigal son and the cursed daughter, just a goddamn fucking tragedy. Nobody bothered to care for them, to pay attention to their parents’ treatment of them, to offer them a shred of help. Easier to ignore it, easier to call it a tragedy and pray for healing and wellness and feel righteous in the meaningless notion. Easier to let it burn.)

         She flips his palm over and presses the damp cloth into it, placing her other hand over top.     “ Before Mom and Dad died, you promised me that we were in this together. That we could trust each other. I need you to keep that promise. I need to know that you’re still with me. I don’t care who that guy was or why you did it, but if we stop now then all of this was for nothing. ”     Bryony takes a shallow breath in, edges of her voice beginning to quiver.  She squeezes both hands holding onto Soren, searching for a sign he was listening behind his eyes.     “ Please, Soren. We can’t go back. I can’t go back. ”     To that house, to that life, to who they were before.  She can’t go back into the dark, to the ghosts waiting for her when she shuts her eyes.

          there’s a brief flash in his memory as her hand finds his. skin on skin, gasped breaths and desperate whispers against heated flesh, a chance to forget everything for an hour or two. to take out his pent up aggression on someone willing to participate. a way without the drawbacks that they’re used to. that he’s used to. bryony wouldn’t understand. it’s not the same. he’s entirely physical. everything different about him is physical. is his body, everything about him. her? she looks normal, can act normal. all of her differences are in her head. inside her skull. sometimes, soren wishes he could cave his own skull in. see how different they really are. see how twisted and blackened his own mind is after the years of holding out for something to give. something to shatter bone and flesh. 

          then, he’s back in the moment - bristling and wrenching his wrist from his sister’s grasp. she’s right. but he can’t concentrate beyond the feel of dried blood sat atop his skin. matted in his hair. it wasn’t panicked. the other guy did nothing wrong. didn’t even know what was happening until soren was on top of him, fists clenched and the two of them covered in blood. it was measured, calculated. until it wasn’t anymore. until it wasn’t a conscious action. until it was feral and bloody and hoarse shouts of pain and panic from both men. until soren was stood at the doorway, gathering his things and leaving without even trying to explain what had happened - what he’d done. 

          “you mean before i killed mom and dad? before i took a knife to his throat and broke her ribs and her lungs with a kitchen knife?! before i covered the kitchen floor with their blood for you? you don’t think i know that we can’t go back? you can go back! you can do whatever the fuck you like ‘cus you didn’t do anything - i did all of it.” he hacked at flesh, he snapped sinew, he attacked their parents with all of his strength because it seemed like the only option. the only thing they could do. the only thing he could do. it was supposed to get them out. only way to get her out. and now they’re trapped still. trapped together. trapped with their demons out in the open for everyone to find them. 

          “you don’t get to act like nothing happened. like they just keeled over and died right there and then - like we’re normal. look at us! we’re on the run. i can’t stop fucking hurting people. and you can’t stop those ghosts in your head.” voice is desperate now, backing away from her until he’s pressed up against the wall. as if it would do anything. “something went wrong, bry. something fucked up when we tried to live our lives and now look at us! don’t--don’t-- don’t touch me--”

[bodyhallowed-blog]

"hey soren..." fingers drag along the bedframe, slow and methodical. she's crouched down next to him, eyes searching in the dark for any signs of movement. careful not to step on the creaky floorboards that line the house. "i... can i sleep here? on the floor?" she doesn't need to mention the nightmare. or the fact she could hear her parents standing outside her door before she fell asleep earlier.

          it’s no secret between the two siblings that something doesn’t sit right with their parents. no secret that their treatments of their two children were wildly different. that they weren’t equal by any stretch of the imagination. at least... not the way their parents saw it. soren isn’t sure how he feels about it. how he’s supposed to deal with the treatment that pushes him up further and further away from his sister - from the one person he’s supposed to be able to trust with anything. at least. if they were anything close to a normal family. 

          but they aren’t normal. the crosses lining the walls of their home, the one nailed to the wallpaper at the foot of his bed - the one he could swear burns his eyes sometimes in the night when he spares it a glance in those split seconds before he succumbs to sleep. no. they aren’t normal. they never were. it’s all just an act. one that they’ve kept up so far. one that he can feel stretching at the seams, pulling at his tendons, at the sinew in his flesh every time he thinks too hard on it. every time tired eyes linger for a split second too long on his sister’s form. the way the puckered flesh at the back of his head itches whenever she’s close. whenever he’s not on his guard.

          tired eyes blink open, bristling for a split second at the figure crouched by his bed - just close enough for him to distinguish her features from the darkness that came with the middle of the night - the faint etching of light at the edges of her frame telling him instantly that it’s early morning. that it’s happened again. bryony doesn’t need to say anything else, doesn’t need to ask any more before the elder of the two is shifting himself back as far as he can beneath the sheets. jaw works and teeth grit for a split second before small voice is finding the dead air between them as he lifts the sheets out of the way, opening up the space just big enough for her to fit into. 

          “floor’s cold.” it’s all he says. voice soft, barely there above a whisper that he knows she’ll be able to pick up on. they’re always awake before their parents anyway, they’d never know. and soren isn’t entirely sure how much he deserves to be above bryony. still, he waits for her response. for her decision. he doesn’t want her on the ground beneath him. there’s monsters under the bed - ones that neither of them know the true extent of. // @spiritunholy

[bodyhallowed-blog]

“What’s my biggest fear? Easy. Ending up like my father.”

— Ten word story #39 (via hell–and-silence)

[bodyhallowed-blog]

private property

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[bodyhallowed-blog]

.spiritunholy (sister dearest)

         Some things are hard to let go of.  While they may have buried their past in a national park along with the bodies of the people who tormented them for two decades, it was hard to unlearn the small behaviors that they didn’t even think about.  But even just the mention of religion turned sour in Bryony’s mouth, almost like the lingering sensation of a touch against her back.  A phantom scream threatened to tear from her throat just as it had done so many times before, the voices of her parents repeating repeating repeating.  Unholy, diseased, ungrateful, disgraced.

         And the image flashes in her mind, a snapshot of a memory, a moment half-blurred frozen in time - the dusty creaky floorboards in the basement slowly rotting, razor sharp slices of sunlight breaking through the gaps in the walls.  Her brother, her saviour, hands soaked red and clutching a rusted knife.  Her mother, glassy eyed, almost peaceful in death.  She stands in a field of ghosts, and yet almost all of them are of her own making.

         She crosses the room towards Soren, a wet face cloth clutched in one hand.  She sits on the threadbare couch opposite him, searching for eye contact.  Part of her urges to yell at him for his actions and their unknown repercussions, but she can’t.  Maybe once when she was younger and she thought he was on their side, but not now.  Not after what they had done.     “ There’s a chance he didn’t see your face properly, but either way we can’t stay here now. We have to move on. Keep going south. ”     Her voice was level, almost unphased by what happened. There was no going back, they couldn’t afford to.  She holds up the cloth towards him, hesitant to overstep his boundaries.     “ Come here, you need to get cleaned up first. ”

          soren doesn’t move an inch. doesn’t even look at his sister as she speaks, focus still fixated on his hands and the red slowly drying into the cracks in his skin. its repeating itself. they’re back where they were when he killed their mother - when he snapped and grabbed the closest thing he could to fend her off with. when he dragged her life from the disgusting person she’d become. when he took it all into his own hands and struck out as if it would fix everything. 

          it did, he supposes. it fixed something. fixed the immediate problem. but then their father showed up. then soren had to fight. the image of their eyes. glazed over and blank as they look back at him. it’s still burned into the back of his mind. he still sees it in his sleep. bryony could see ghosts. but so could soren. the only difference is that his really are just in his head. they come when he’s asleep. when he’s vulnerable. he can’t talk to them. can’t reason with them. they’re there and he doesn’t think they’ll ever go away. 

         ‘there’s a chance didn’t see your face properly.’ dark hues glance up at that, shaking his head as soren distances himself from her - crossing the room with gaze downcast. “no. he... he saw my face.” it’s all he says at first. all he can manage through the wave of nausea that climbs up his throat and onto his tongue. through the taste of blood and bile and skin in his mouth. the feeling of panic in his gut. “i. i picked him up, bry. at that bar. we.. we... you know - he saw my face.”

[bodyhallowed-blog]

[bodyhallowed-blog]

❛ fuck ! put the gun down ! please , come on ! it’s me , alright ? ❜

          usually their improvised weapons of choice were far more personal. soren isn’t picky, doesn’t care what it is he’s wielding as long as it does the job. as long as it keeps him alive. how he ended up with a handgun with less than three rounds left was a mystery to the man - how bryony came to see him stood over the still warm bodies of two men intent on cornering him and tearing soren from his wallet and phone? that’s also a mystery. one that the elder hawkins sibling can’t take the time to figure out as he comes to his senses only to find himself aiming the muzzle at his sister’s chest as if she were his new attacker. 

         perhaps their lives were just two long streams of ‘wrong place, wrong time’ - that their trail of blood and guilt and hatred was borne of nothing but misfortune and mistake. they hadn’t done anything to deserve this life. it just happened. sometimes bad things just happen. they don’t get a say in them, they don’t get to avoid them or dodge them or escape their lives when they want to. they’re stuck with this now. stuck with this dark cloud lingering over them. 

         “i--i didn’t... they--they tried to--” they’d threatened. he’d pulled the gun. yet their backs are to him. they tried to escape when he’d aimed it. he shot them in the back. was this really like the last time? soren saw red, lost all reasonable thought. acted on instinct driven to the extreme by a lifetime of being on the run and the sea of red he’d left behind. “fuck....fuck...oh--oh shit--” // @spiritunholy // dangerous starters // accepting

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[bodyhallowed-blog]

                   𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  .

❛   what  are  you  doing?   ❜

❛   what ,  you’re  going  to  kill  me?  ❜

❛   fuck !  put  the  gun  down !  please , come on !  it’s  me ,  alright ?  ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing  with  that ?   ❜

❛   please ..  don’t  do  this  anymore !   ❜

❛   let  her/them/him  go  or  i’ll  blow  you  away !  ❜

❛   wait ! okay …  okay !  okay , i’ll  tell  you ,  whatever  you  want  to  know  ..   ❜

❛   you  point  that  thing  at  me  you  better  pull  the  trigger .  ❜

❛   alright , alright , alright  ..  i’ll talk !   ❜

❛   please ,  just  let  me  go ,  i  won’t  tell  anyone …  i  promise  .  ❜

❛   let  me  out  of  here !   let  me  go !   ❜

❛   you’re  not  getting  away  this  time  …  ❜

❛   actually ,  i  think  i  better  get  going  …   it’s  late  and  …   ❜

❛   come  on !  fight  back !  fight  back !  fight  back  you  coward !   ❜

❛   come  on ,  hit  me !   ❜

❛   do  it !  pull  the  trigger !  do  it  ,  do  it  ,  do  it !   ❜

❛   come  and  find  me  …  polo !  ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  hide  anymore ,  i  don’t  want  to  be  afraid  anymore  …   ❜

❛   you   keep   saying   you’re   going   to   stop   but   you   don’t !  ❜

❛   how   many   more   people   need   to   die   before   you’re   satisfied ?  ❜

❛   why   are   you   doing   this ?   ❜

❛   don’t   come   any   closer  ,   that’s   far   enough  .   ❜

❛   if   you  don’t   pull   the   trigger   i’ll   pull   it   for   you  !   ❜

❛   i  thought  that  you  were  in  danger  …   ❜

❛   you’re  dangerous  …  i ,   i  just  don’t  want  to  end  up  dead ..   ❜

❛   i  promise  i  won’t  hurt  you  …    ❜

❛   can  you  please  stop  screwing  with  my  mind ,  god  !   ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  be  here  anymore ,  please ,  can  we  go  back ?   ❜

❛   um  ….  i’m  not  sure  i  want  to  go ,   thanks   anyway  ..   ❜

❛   that  sounds  dangerous  ….   i’m  in .   ❜

❛   i  don’t  know ,  it  sounds  awfully  dangerous  …  ❜

❛   stay  back  or  i  will  rip  your  head  off  !  ❜

❛   i  think  …   this   is   wrong ,  no .  i  can’t  just  stand  by   and   watch   it  .   ❜

❛   do  you  think  you  would  ever  hurt  me  like  that ?   ❜

❛   i  can’t  be  with  someone  who  could  hurt  me  like  that  …  ❜

❛   this  is  not  love  !   it   is   obsession  !   a   sick  one  at   that  !  ❜

❛   are  you  following  me  ?   what  …   what  do  you  want  ?   money  ?   ❜

❛   please  …  i  have  money ,   just  let  me  go  .  ❜

❛   i  don’t  think  you  realize  how  the  dangerous  this  game  is  ..   ❜

❛   it’s  not  just  a  game  !   ❜

❛   if  you’re  in  some  kind  of  trouble ,  you  can  tell  me  .   ❜

❛   come  on  ,   it’s  just  a  game ,  what  could  go  so  wrong  ?   ❜

❛   are  you  the  one  that’s  been  watching  me  ?   stalking  me  ?  ❜

❛   actually ,  do  you  mind  if  we  just  stop/pull  over  here  ?   ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing ?   you  missed  the  stop  back  there ?   ❜

❛   hello ?   is   someone  there  ?   ❜

❛   you’re  scaring  me  …   ❜

❛   okay ,  you’re  really  starting  to  scare  me  …  ❜

[bodyhallowed-blog]

[bodyhallowed-blog]

               YOU’VE BEEN BITTEN                                       YOU’VE BEEN BITTEN                BY A TRUE BELIEVER                               BY SOMEONE’S FALSE BELIEFS

                                     ind. & priv. suburban gothic original characters                                                          written by nev and eli.

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❛ i thought that you were in danger … ❜

          he’s a cop. a detective no less. 

          this is bad. they were supposed to be avoiding the police. avoiding everything about them. staying low and off the radar because otherwise their attempt at a new life would be ruined. soren would have ruined their lives when he killed their parents and the both of them would be separated. they can’t be separated. they just... they just can’t. he doesn’t look up, hands massaging at each other in his lap where soren sits on the bench before gavin. dark hues blink once, twice, three times before he’s dragging hazy vision up the detective’s frame. before a hand covered the bloodied knuckles that could give away far too much to someone who knows what they’re looking for. 

          he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know what they did. where they’re from. who soren’s hurt. how they got where they are - why there’s blood on his shirt and fingers or why his hands are shaking ever so slightly. gavin doesn’t know what he’s capable of. what he’s done. what he can do if he needs to. there’s a suggestion of a smile on pale lips, thin and wiry and barely there but soren knows the cop would see it. 

          “i don’t think it’s... me that’s in danger, right now, detective.” // @antidroids // dangerous starters // accepting

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          “don’t... don’t say that name.” it’s not holy. not to either of them. but the sentiment remains. drilled into them from young children. maybe soren just has a harder time letting go. 

          he’s still sat on the coffee table, brows furrowed and gaze fixed on the blood still sat on his skin. he’d like to say that he panicked. that soren hawkins just has bad luck and met the wrong guy at the wrong time and it was all self defence. that he had no other choice. that this was just their parents all over again and they could move on from it. but this was different. he didn’t panic. there was no fear in his actions. at least none that he could explain and be telling the truth. and soren doesn’t want to lie to his sister. not to bryony. not now. not when he’s the one that messed this up for them. “i... i dunno bry. i didn’t... hang around long enough to find out. but if he’s still alive... he’s gonna tell someone.” // @spiritunholy​ // continued from here

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❛ How many more people need to die before you’re satisfied ? ❜ have some taunting Tyr

          he doesn’t believe it. this can’t be happening. this isn’t real. it’s a dream. a nightmare. it has to be. he doesn’t believe in his parent’s religion. doesn’t buy into the stories and morals and lies they trained into him as a child. this can’t be real. it can’t be. it’s impossible. 

          still, soren can tell himself that as much as he likes. it doesn’t change the fact that the voice and figure before him is that of an oversized dog. teeth all but glint in the half light. a taunt, soren would suspect, if it wasn’t for the terror clenching tight in his chest as back is pressed up against the closest wall. it’s not real. it can’t be. muddied hues are wide, lips parted in something of a terrified whine as his back is flattened impossibly further against the wall behind him - blood running cold as the creature takes a step toward him. trainers scrabble against the dirt beneath, trying to distance himself further yet finding no where to move to. 

         “you--you don’t know what you’re... you don’t know what you’re talking about!” are those tears at the corners of his eyes? soren wouldn’t be able to tell you as breath hitches in his throat, vision darkening as he struggles to breathe. it knows the blood on his hands. it knows what he’s done. it’s just like his father used to say. soren’s done terrible, terrible things. they’re coming back to catch up with him. “just--just leave me alone--i haven’t--i haven’t done anything--” // @hungryjaws // dangerous starters // accepting

[bodyhallowed-blog]

by Anita Austvika  

[bodyhallowed-blog]

                   𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒  .

❛   what  are  you  doing?   ❜

❛   what ,  you’re  going  to  kill  me?  ❜

❛   fuck !  put  the  gun  down !  please , come on !  it’s  me ,  alright ?  ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing  with  that ?   ❜

❛   please ..  don’t  do  this  anymore !   ❜

❛   let  her/them/him  go  or  i’ll  blow  you  away !  ❜

❛   wait ! okay …  okay !  okay , i’ll  tell  you ,  whatever  you  want  to  know  ..   ❜

❛   you  point  that  thing  at  me  you  better  pull  the  trigger .  ❜

❛   alright , alright , alright  ..  i’ll talk !   ❜

❛   please ,  just  let  me  go ,  i  won’t  tell  anyone …  i  promise  .  ❜

❛   let  me  out  of  here !   let  me  go !   ❜

❛   you’re  not  getting  away  this  time  …  ❜

❛   actually ,  i  think  i  better  get  going  …   it’s  late  and  …   ❜

❛   come  on !  fight  back !  fight  back !  fight  back  you  coward !   ❜

❛   come  on ,  hit  me !   ❜

❛   do  it !  pull  the  trigger !  do  it  ,  do  it  ,  do  it !   ❜

❛   come  and  find  me  …  polo !  ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  hide  anymore ,  i  don’t  want  to  be  afraid  anymore  …   ❜

❛   you   keep   saying   you’re   going   to   stop   but   you   don’t !  ❜

❛   how   many   more   people   need   to   die   before   you’re   satisfied ?  ❜

❛   why   are   you   doing   this ?   ❜

❛   don’t   come   any   closer  ,   that’s   far   enough  .   ❜

❛   if   you  don’t   pull   the   trigger   i’ll   pull   it   for   you  !   ❜

❛   i  thought  that  you  were  in  danger  …   ❜

❛   you’re  dangerous  …  i ,   i  just  don’t  want  to  end  up  dead ..   ❜

❛   i  promise  i  won’t  hurt  you  …    ❜

❛   can  you  please  stop  screwing  with  my  mind ,  god  !   ❜

❛   i  don’t  want  to  be  here  anymore ,  please ,  can  we  go  back ?   ❜

❛   um  ….  i’m  not  sure  i  want  to  go ,   thanks   anyway  ..   ❜

❛   that  sounds  dangerous  ….   i’m  in .   ❜

❛   i  don’t  know ,  it  sounds  awfully  dangerous  …  ❜

❛   stay  back  or  i  will  rip  your  head  off  !  ❜

❛   i  think  …   this   is   wrong ,  no .  i  can’t  just  stand  by   and   watch   it  .   ❜

❛   do  you  think  you  would  ever  hurt  me  like  that ?   ❜

❛   i  can’t  be  with  someone  who  could  hurt  me  like  that  …  ❜

❛   this  is  not  love  !   it   is   obsession  !   a   sick  one  at   that  !  ❜

❛   are  you  following  me  ?   what  …   what  do  you  want  ?   money  ?   ❜

❛   please  …  i  have  money ,   just  let  me  go  .  ❜

❛   i  don’t  think  you  realize  how  the  dangerous  this  game  is  ..   ❜

❛   it’s  not  just  a  game  !   ❜

❛   if  you’re  in  some  kind  of  trouble ,  you  can  tell  me  .   ❜

❛   come  on  ,   it’s  just  a  game ,  what  could  go  so  wrong  ?   ❜

❛   are  you  the  one  that’s  been  watching  me  ?   stalking  me  ?  ❜

❛   actually ,  do  you  mind  if  we  just  stop/pull  over  here  ?   ❜

❛   what  are  you  doing ?   you  missed  the  stop  back  there ?   ❜

❛   hello ?   is   someone  there  ?   ❜

❛   you’re  scaring  me  …   ❜

❛   okay ,  you’re  really  starting  to  scare  me  …  ❜