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GUASTI COSE: FRIDAYS
CHAPTER TWO "And then they get my blood type."~ Brandon Flowers The familiar melody of a Cole Porter tune whistles in the air as Damon Johnson emerges from the darkness. Blake Thomas lies on the couch, curdled in a ball clutching a pillow. He whispers, "I've lost my soul, the devil's on my ass... I'll need more luck, my heart's gone baddie... Least I got this, cause God only knows... This heart belongs to Thomas." Damon's ears ring with irritation. It seems that everywhere he's been in town he's had the displeasure of hearing people sing for the past few days. He's found himself immune to this, thankfully, but it feels as if someone is killing him all over again.
First he ripped out Damon's heart, then he shoved it in a fucking freezer. And not a single one of Blake's friends know what a cold-hearted bastard he is. Pun fucking intended. But Damon can end everything now. He could choke the life out of Blake. Choke the ever-loving shit out of him and watch the life drain from his body, slower and more gradual than Damon was allowed. In some ways, Damon was given mercy in his death. Blake, however, would have no such mercy. Damon steps over a large tome lying next to the couch, odd markings adorn it, and it is probably the book Blake will use to resurrect his brother. Unfortunately, he won't be needing it. Damon reaches out for Blake's neck, ready to choke him. Blake sleeps quietly...not noticing a thing. Damon grabs at Blake, tightening his grip, ready for Blake to awake with a start and whimper for help. But it doesn't happen. His fingers pass through Blake. "What in the fuck?!" Damon cries. He reaches for Blake again, but he still can't touch him. Can't choke him. Can't kill him. Damon angrily tries slamming his fist against the couch, but his fingers sail through that as well. He's not corporeal. He's a ghost. How is he supposed to get his revenge? He drops to his knees, defeat in his eyes. All he's craved since his throat was slit in that cold morgue was revenge, and now...he won't have it. He won't ever... "Corporeal." He recognizes the word amongst the wording on the open page of Blake's book. Corporeal. What he needs to be. And next to the word is another...one he doesn't recognize, he needs to sound it out... "...Isoke?" |
He has stood here, watching Blake go back and forth from the freezer in his parents' basement, keeping a close watch his