Apt Pupil 2
folder
1 through F › Apt Pupil
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
1,343
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Apt Pupil
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
1,343
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Apt Pupil or any of the characters associated with it. They belong to Stephen King and Brian Singer. No money was made from this wiriting.
Chapter 11
She was a pretty girl whose only major physical flaw was evident by the thick black frames resting on her aristocratic nose. She sat in the front row, diagonal to the teacher with a decent view of the blackboard. Every once in awhile, she would look back at Todd and, when they happened to make eye contact, she smiled.
XXX
Todd was lying awake. The room dark, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, “Psst. Are you awake?”
“Am now.”
“I’m…you know…sorry about what I said to you before…at the gym.”
Chris sat up, his voice no longer a whisper, “What does this mean?”
“I don’t know,” he paused. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Chris laid back down and for a while the room was silent. “Goodnight, Todd.”
“Yeah. You too.”
Neither fell asleep for quite some time.
XXX
Despite the number of times that Todd had been caught in various stages of undress, Todd had only walked in on Chris once. His shirt was off and, for the first time, he understood why his roommate was always adorned with long sleeves.
“Did you do all that?”
(Running a knife blade over skin. Blood beaded through the superficial cut before beginning to pour. The action was erotic in the same way that forcing a knife over someone else’s flesh was. But more real. Real because the pain wasn’t someone else’s and the screams were your own…The image so vivid that Todd could almost see Chris doing it).
Chris pulled his shirt on quickly, as if he was caught with his hand down his pants, “Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed.”
(…could see himself pulling the knife away. He watched it hard enough for Chris to cry out from the resulting pain).
“Todd, I’m…uh…well, I’d appreciate it if this stayed between us. I mean,” he laughed, shrill and thin, “we all have things we would’ve loved to leave in our hometowns.”
(The knife in his hand was a familiar and oddly comforting sensation).
“Can you teach me how to do that? I mean, I know how, I just don’t think I could,” he waited for an answer, a hand coming up and teeth pulling on the nail as the silence grew heavy.
“You’re sick,” he tucked his shirt in with several sharp movements. It was as if hiding the scars would take the idea out of Todd’s head. “Don’t play with knives, Todd. You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.”
XXX
Todd stared at the knife with fascination. The light caught the blade, reflecting it onto other surfaces; sometimes the walls, sometimes his face.
“Do it, boy.”
He turned around to face his tormenter. Dussander sat on his bed, legs crossed and shoes polished to a high shine: Todd scrutinized him for a moment, but found no trace of malice on the ancient features.
“Will it help?” His face coloured, “Will it help with the nightmares?”
“How nice,” his voice changed pitch. The new voice was higher in a poor imitation of youth. “ ‘Will it help with the nightmares?’”
“Don’t--”
“Don’t what? Don’t mock you?” He laughed. “Why? It’s funny. What you really mean is ‘Will it make you go away?’ Right boy?”
“Cut the bullshit and just tell me.”
“Alright. I’ll ‘cut the bullshit,’ as you so nicely put it.” He laughed again, hard old man laughter that left him gasping for air. “No, boy. It won’t help. Do whatever you want. Cut yourself, kill people…maybe a few of those homeless drunks you used to be so fond of. It won’t matter.”
Todd angrily threw the knife to the floor, “Why the fuck would I do it then?”
Dussander reached over, picking the knife up gently from the floor and handed it back to the glaring young man. “For temporary relief, boy. In the end, we’ll all do anything just to make something stop…Even for such a little while.”
He continued laughing and Todd, overcome with passion, threw the knife at Dussander. He missed and it bounced off the wall, taking flecks of the plaster with it.
XXX
Rough hands were on his shoulders shaking him awake, “What the hell are you doing?”
Todd turned his confused eyes up, meeting his roommates, “What?”
Chris rolled his eyes, “I tried calling you twice. The phone rang, like, sixteen times while you’ve been up here sleeping on the goddamn floor. When I came up here you were so still, I thought you were dead.”
“Well I’m not,” he stretched.
“How fucking reassuring.” Chris sighed, “Look, I’m glad you’re okay, but you have to think. There’s a knife by the door and your lying motionless on the floor. I thought you slit your wrists or something.”
“By the door?” Todd was on his feet instantly, “I wasn’t anywhere near the door!”
(Don’t cry. Don’t faint).
Despite his pleas, the world started graying around him. The last thing he heard…
(“Todd, are you okay?”)
…was Dussander laughing.
XXX
Todd was lying awake. The room dark, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, “Psst. Are you awake?”
“Am now.”
“I’m…you know…sorry about what I said to you before…at the gym.”
Chris sat up, his voice no longer a whisper, “What does this mean?”
“I don’t know,” he paused. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Chris laid back down and for a while the room was silent. “Goodnight, Todd.”
“Yeah. You too.”
Neither fell asleep for quite some time.
XXX
Despite the number of times that Todd had been caught in various stages of undress, Todd had only walked in on Chris once. His shirt was off and, for the first time, he understood why his roommate was always adorned with long sleeves.
“Did you do all that?”
(Running a knife blade over skin. Blood beaded through the superficial cut before beginning to pour. The action was erotic in the same way that forcing a knife over someone else’s flesh was. But more real. Real because the pain wasn’t someone else’s and the screams were your own…The image so vivid that Todd could almost see Chris doing it).
Chris pulled his shirt on quickly, as if he was caught with his hand down his pants, “Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed.”
(…could see himself pulling the knife away. He watched it hard enough for Chris to cry out from the resulting pain).
“Todd, I’m…uh…well, I’d appreciate it if this stayed between us. I mean,” he laughed, shrill and thin, “we all have things we would’ve loved to leave in our hometowns.”
(The knife in his hand was a familiar and oddly comforting sensation).
“Can you teach me how to do that? I mean, I know how, I just don’t think I could,” he waited for an answer, a hand coming up and teeth pulling on the nail as the silence grew heavy.
“You’re sick,” he tucked his shirt in with several sharp movements. It was as if hiding the scars would take the idea out of Todd’s head. “Don’t play with knives, Todd. You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.”
XXX
Todd stared at the knife with fascination. The light caught the blade, reflecting it onto other surfaces; sometimes the walls, sometimes his face.
“Do it, boy.”
He turned around to face his tormenter. Dussander sat on his bed, legs crossed and shoes polished to a high shine: Todd scrutinized him for a moment, but found no trace of malice on the ancient features.
“Will it help?” His face coloured, “Will it help with the nightmares?”
“How nice,” his voice changed pitch. The new voice was higher in a poor imitation of youth. “ ‘Will it help with the nightmares?’”
“Don’t--”
“Don’t what? Don’t mock you?” He laughed. “Why? It’s funny. What you really mean is ‘Will it make you go away?’ Right boy?”
“Cut the bullshit and just tell me.”
“Alright. I’ll ‘cut the bullshit,’ as you so nicely put it.” He laughed again, hard old man laughter that left him gasping for air. “No, boy. It won’t help. Do whatever you want. Cut yourself, kill people…maybe a few of those homeless drunks you used to be so fond of. It won’t matter.”
Todd angrily threw the knife to the floor, “Why the fuck would I do it then?”
Dussander reached over, picking the knife up gently from the floor and handed it back to the glaring young man. “For temporary relief, boy. In the end, we’ll all do anything just to make something stop…Even for such a little while.”
He continued laughing and Todd, overcome with passion, threw the knife at Dussander. He missed and it bounced off the wall, taking flecks of the plaster with it.
XXX
Rough hands were on his shoulders shaking him awake, “What the hell are you doing?”
Todd turned his confused eyes up, meeting his roommates, “What?”
Chris rolled his eyes, “I tried calling you twice. The phone rang, like, sixteen times while you’ve been up here sleeping on the goddamn floor. When I came up here you were so still, I thought you were dead.”
“Well I’m not,” he stretched.
“How fucking reassuring.” Chris sighed, “Look, I’m glad you’re okay, but you have to think. There’s a knife by the door and your lying motionless on the floor. I thought you slit your wrists or something.”
“By the door?” Todd was on his feet instantly, “I wasn’t anywhere near the door!”
(Don’t cry. Don’t faint).
Despite his pleas, the world started graying around him. The last thing he heard…
(“Todd, are you okay?”)
…was Dussander laughing.