#terry ready to twist the hell out of this and mold them to how he likes

[theweirdcobrakaifan]

The cobra clan

Tonight, as the shadows deepened, the city transformed into a realm of darkness and despair, amplifying the suffocating weight of failure that clung to him. Sheets of rain whipped against the cracked, worn pavement of Los Angeles. The water pooled into Terry Silver's feet as he struggled down the dimly lit street in his black coat with silver buttons and black pants. The meeting he'd been to had long since turned into just a vain critique of incompetence. Under his breath, he could hear a stream of cursing as droplets hit off of his black umbrella. Just 31 yet weary from the burdens of being a CEO at Dynatox Industries, he felt the pressure of expectations suffocating him.

Tonight, the city was a realm of darkness and despair, and the lengthening shadows made the suffocating weight of failure clinging to him even heavier. And then he heard it-muffled cries, raw and desperate, echoing down the alleyway. Terry instinctively froze. His well-honed instincts, honed through years of war and combat, flared within him, compelling him to investigate.

Peering well into the mouth of the alley, he saw a boy—Dennis. The boy, ten years old, was hunched over, a black sweater torn, a blue jacket hanging precariously off his thin frame. Dennis's curly black hair was matted, possibly from the rain or the blood that seeped from cuts on his brow. He looked up with wide brown eyes clouded by fear yet lit with an ember of something else altogether: hope.

Terry's heart twisted as he approached the boy. He knelt beside Dennis and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy, you alright?" The boy didn't respond; instead, he shuddered, attempting to pull himself to his feet, each movement a reminder of the vicious beating he had endured.

No sooner had Terry begun to raise his voice to continue his rescue than another faint sound met his ears. It was a whisper, almost breathless and indistinguishable, from farther down the alley. Curious, he turned, driven by some unnamed compulsion.

That's when he saw the second boy. Snake a boy no older than eight, with disheveled brown hair and large, sad brown eyes was leaning against the cool brick wall, his gray jacket ripped and his jeans soiled by dirt and grime. He looked up at Terry with the same kind of hope that lit up Dennis's eyes, though in his, it was more of a flicker in an already extinguished candle.

“Help," Snake whispered, his voice no louder than the rain. The word was a lifeline thrown into Terry's churning heart.

In that moment, something inside of Terry shifted. Here were two lost souls in need of saving. Perhaps he could heal their wounds as much as they could mend his apparently endless unrest. Gently, he scooped both boys into his arms, their fragile bodies fitting perfectly against his frame. A wry, bitter smile ghosted across his lips. "Well, isn't this a lucky day," he muttered under his breath, as if more to convince himself than them. "Two little snakelet to take care of.

As he cradled them against his chest, Terry felt an overwhelming surge of protectiveness wash over him. Both boys looked up at him, their eyes round with revering eyes that sent an unfamiliar thrill coursing through him. He was a soldier, a man molded by adversity, and he recognized that devotion-the kind derived from being saved when all hope seemed lost.

Yet, even as he marched away from the alley, a gnawing sensation tugged at the back of his mind. He had been on the receiving end many a time of such zeal. Memories of his own past swirled to the fore, of a man and friend who had once pulled him from the brink of despair and shaped him into a soldier worthy of respect, molded him into the man he was today,well he mostly did it himself but if it wasn’t for this friend this hero terry would not be here tonight A bittersweet ache settled within him. The line between savior and dictator was perilously thin; it could easily skew toward obsession if left unchecked,he really need some cocaine when he gets home

The town was dark, with only flickering streetlights, the streets echoing with emptiness that matched the hollow churn of his stomach. Under the weight of responsibility, Terry turned toward the Ennis House, his inherited residence veiled in both beauty and severity. It loomed above him, an intimidating structure steeped in shadows, like a guardian of secrets.

As they reached the entrance, the boys peered up at him, their eyes glimmering with trust and trepidation. The heavy front door creaked open, and Terry ushered them inside. The rain dripped off him, pooling at his feet, echoing slightly in the cavernous foyer.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice low and dangerous. They were now his—their loyalty locked in place by the threads of gratitude.

Yet in him, the fear of that impending obsession stayed. And as he stood in the dark ambient corners of the huge mansion, looking down at the children nestled in his grasp, fragile yet fierce in their yearning for something they had lost, a question came to him,would he raise them to be devoted, or keep them in check by the very thing that had once saved his own life?

Outside, the rain continued, but in the confines of his house, his mind was a heavy mist impregnated with the seeds of care, which could flower into an obsession. Terry Silver saved them, but who would save him?

@isindismay I have finally wrote it

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[writeopalskyy]

Follow My Lead

It’s crazy what you can discover in your mind in a matter of seconds, minutes, and hours, days, months, maybe even years. I followed you anywhere you wanted to go. Holding your hand along the way, we captured a few stares. Some longing for that type of affection, others minds so twisted and bent that only jaded looks displayed across their faces. But I knew the truth; you loved me just as much as I loved you. If not more, but never less than what I deserved you shared with me. The moment I met Riley there was something different about her. It was all in the way she presented herself. Her golden brown hair was neatly formed into a fishtail braid. She wore a cream ruffled blouse with those high-waisted faded jean shorts you only find in thrift stores, and a pair of cheetah print flats. The way her pale skin shone against the sun as if she were an angel coming down to save me. Save me from the hell I’d been living since the passing of my boyfriend Miles. His death was ruled a suicide but he wouldn’t have done that to himself, to us. We needed each other. But then all it took was one look into Riley’s eyes, a deep grey that I’d only witnessed with one other person, him. I couldn’t let her leave my sight, ever. 

I even remember the first line she ever spoke to me, “Hey can I get a hit?” 

Riley had found me sitting near a disserted bus stop smoking a joint after our group grieving counseling session. During session, she had shared her story about her girlfriend Sam, who died in a motorcycle but I was way too high to share my opinion. 

“Sorry, I’m Riley. I’m quite bored with smoking cigarettes,” she said after receiving no response. I was still stunned by her bold demeanor. I couldn’t identify the reasoning for her randomness but I vowed to never forget the significance of that day. 

On a different night, she stood next to me, my hand cupped in hers as we waited in line to enter the restaurant where we were scheduled to meet her friends. It was going to be the first time meeting them so I was pretty high, hungry, and nervous. I truly wished the night ended before it got a chance to start.

“Are you okay, Terry?” Riley asked. 

���Yeah, I’m really hungry though.” More like petrified.  

I loved the way she laughed. It was thick like honey, full and whole, but sweet at the same time. “Well we smoked plenty before we came.”

“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m starving right now,” I said, playing with my lip ring. 

Sometimes I didn’t know what to say to her. Most of the time she did all the talking, whether we were alone or in a room full of people. She demanded everyone’s attention, while I insisted on being left alone always. 

“You’re so cute,” she said. Then proceeds to kiss me right there on the lips for everyone to see. I caught some stares but I didn’t care. “Don’t be nervous, my friends aren’t vicious people. Lesbian, yes. Vicious, no.”

Two young women with sweaters and jeans seemed to be moved by me and Riley’s performance. I may have been high but my hearing capabilities were quite impressive. 

“Ewww did you see that?” Green sweater said to yellow sweater.

“Yeah, not appropriate at all. There are children present,” yellow sweater said. 

The only child I saw present was lying in a stroller sound asleep. The mother sat nearby on a bench engaged with the activity occurring on her phone. She didn’t blink once. 

“Welp, I hope they like the heat,” green sweater said. “It’s plenty where they’re going.”

“She must be the guy in the relationship. Look at her wearing that flannel shirt, those ripped jeans.”

Green sweater chimed in. “And those doc martens. This is classic.”

I could have swore it was the year 2012, not the 1500s. These religious jokes do become stale like the hairdo green sweater thought she was rocking well.

The girls laughed and changed the subject. Meanwhile, I fought the urge to turn around and punch them both dead in the nose. But Riley squeezed my hand tight and pulled us through the line and inside the warm restaurant. The allure of bread baking, meat being prepared to one’s liking sent my taste buds wild. All I could do was smile when she introduced me to her friends as her girlfriend.

Out of the four girl friends Riley introduced me too, sitting there pretending to like this girl Jessica was the worst. The others were nice, warm, and welcoming. However, this Jessica person stared me down; her vibe read ‘interview’ instead a typical gathering amongst friends. The first thing she decided to ask me was, “So is Riley your first official girl friend?”

I played with my lip ring. “Yeah she is.”

“Oh how sweet,” I didn’t sound sweet the way she said it. “So then you were only dating guys before you met her?”

Riley interrupted, “Jessica, stop.” 

“No, its okay,” I said, but it wasn’t. If I were sober, I could picture the violent things I would have done to her face. Controlling my temper was like telling a four year old that Santa Clause didn’t exist. I was bound to react negatively. 

“Just let her answer the question Riley. I’m sure she’s capable. Go on Terry, speak.”

Playing with my lip ring, turned into tugging on it with my teeth. The frown lines that formed between her eyebrows definitely wanted to make a date with my fist for sure. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Riley said as she held on to my hand tight, almost begging me not to react to Jessica’s ignorance. 

I did anyways, “I only had one boyfriend. He’s dead.”

Jessica had a smirk on her face as if I told her a bad joke. She leaned back in her chair and casually drunk her beverage before speaking again. “I guess that oversized flannel explains everything right? Not ready to let him go yet, right sweetheart?” 

Riley leaps out the chair and yelled, “You fucking bitch.” I was shunned by her instant aggression over me. 

It had been one year, five months, and sixteen days since Miles left me here to face this world on my own. His overdose took a toll on my ability to function in this world without feeling as though my body would shut down at any moment. Sure I had a mother, but our ideals on how I should live my life conflicted in such ways that I rarely came home anymore. I didn’t need anyone, especially this lame-ass Jessica girl dictating the degree of emotions I shared for Miles or Riley. So I left. I couldn’t stand it anymore so I ran out the restaurant and didn’t look back. Riley drove us here, so I just sat down on a bench and buried my head into my lap, sobbing. Moments passed before I felt her presence in front of me. 

“Come here. Terry, please,” she said. I looked up to see the tears falling from her eyes. They almost matched mines. 

“I just want to be left alone right now. Can you respect that?” No one could possibly understand the whirl of emotions that was taking place in my head. 

“No I can’t just leave you out here. You’re clearly upset and I feel responsible for it, so baby please just let me fix it.”

“Stop it Riley. Stop babying me. I’m eighteen.”

“And I’m twenty so what’s your point?” 

“Just leave me alone.” I didn’t want her to go anywhere. I buried my head into my lap again. The tears wouldn’t stop. No one could possibly understand how hard it was for me. The difficulty it took coming to terms with the death of a person I assumed I’d spend an eternity with to discover that the love I had in my heart beats stronger for her, and only for her. 

She sat down next to me and hugged me the best way she could in my position. “Fuck her, okay? She’s history to us. You and I both know the truth and that’s what counts.”

The truth was, yes the flannel shirt that I wore belonged to Miles. When she had met me the first time I was wearing his clothes, piercing in my lip, with straight-cut bangs to compliment my long dark mane with hints of green. When I wasn’t ready to give up his wardrobe she told me to keep them. She said, “I get that he’ll always be a part of you because he’s your first love. His image influenced you in a way that drew me towards you. It’s almost magnetic. I must be in love with you.”

Even if Jessica had knew that beforehand her bitchy attitude served no true relevance. 

“Like what’s wrong with her. Why did she come at me like that?” I asked Riley.

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s jealous, being overprotective; who knows, but she can’t scare you away from me. I have way too much love in my heart to let that happen. Today was a mistake, I’m really sorry,” she said. 

I could hear the voices of her friends near. I looked up to see them leaving the restaurant and heading in our direction. Jessica of course was the leader of the group. “I don’t want to talk to any of them. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“Forget about them. I’ll deal with it later. Let’s go somewhere else.” Riley extended her hand out for me to take as she displayed a genuine grin. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

I gazed into her grey eyes again, the same grey pools that drowned me into her world many times before. No hesitation was made as I cupped my hand into hers once more. Our mold together was already hardened and stiff and at this point only God himself could tear us apart.

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– Opal Skyy, theskyyisopal@gmail.com