Post by Eden Morgan on Dec 7, 2014 20:47:21 GMT -5
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
Is there a more grating sound than the sound of a beep telling you to begin your message when you know good and well that the person you're trying to reach is however many miles away, phone in hand, just waiting for that little icon to alert them to the fact that you're done? And still I speak. I resent myself for doing it, and I resent him for forcing me to. But that's what life is: a series of things we don't want to do, but we do them anyway because we have to.
“James. I know how you dislike people calling you by your given name, but because you've put me through the distaste of having to leave this message, I feel I can leave you with some of your own. I want to see Colin. I can imagine your response to that, so I'll offer another option: I'd like to know how he's doing. I'd like an update. I don't think that's too much to ask, and you and I both know he'd want you to honor my request. It's a simple thing. You may disapprove of me and the choices I've made, but Colin knows nothing of that and his condition is unrelated. I simply want to know that he's okay. I'll be expecting your phone call.”
As I hang up the phone, I can feel their eyes on me, each landing with a different stroke on my skin. Alan's is brief and studious, considering. He seems to constantly be weighing me, weighing my words to verify the truth or an duplicity within. He's always been a careful man, but he's become so much more so in the time I've known him. Killian's is far more assessing. He's undressed me with those eyes more times than I can count, and my responding glares don't seem to have dampened his spirits. His stare is a warm heat, like the wavering hand of a lover hovering mere centimeters above the skin, the warmth of the body and the hand mingling without even touching and heating the air around them.
He hasn't earned the right to a stare like that. I would like to say I stared at him until his smile, that dark and promising, continually amused and ever-present smile of his faded away, but we didn't have that kind of time. Killian would grin on his way into hell.
“Did you really have to start by antagonizing him?”
And there, the steady, unwavering eyes of Zane. A man I once might have considered to be my strongest enemy, a man who at one time caused many fear-filled sleepless nights. I'm well aware of the damage his tightly controlled body can dole out; I'm also well aware of the tight leash he retains on himself. I know how to break that leash; I know what comes after, the beautiful brutality, the unbridled violence, rage unblinking. Knowing that that's what Jet Somers is staring into come Horizons almost makes me smile. Almost.
“How would you have preferred I address him, Zane? With respect, when he hasn't done anything in months to deserve that attitude from me?”
When Zane shifts in his seat, stiffening, I realize my response came out more biting than I meant it to. Oh well. No taking it back. No taking anything back. No apologies. Apologies are for the weak and none of us can afford to give that impression. As he answers me back, as Alan joins in, and then Killian, each of them tossing out gameplans and strategems for Horizons, I find myself only half-listening. My skin feels tight, swollen and shrunken all at the same time. And deep within, there's a desperate scratching, a clawing sensation like something trying to break through to the surface. It matches the panicky feeling in my head, that increasing urge that grows harder and harder to ignore. The urge to smash into every one of them, to attack in a flurry of swirling hair and violent movements, to even peel the very skin from them. Slowly, just to prolong it all. And these are my allies.
I cock my head to the side and nod, trying my best to pretend, to make it through as the minutes tick by. But as Zane's eyes return to mine, I notice a grim cast that wasn't there before. And it's then that it dawns on me.
He knows.
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
Los Angeles, two months ago
Eden approaches her office, her expression weary as she unfastens the buttons on her suit jacket. The man at the desk outside her office calls to her without looking up from his paperwork.
“Pleasant flight back from Chicago, Miss Morgan?”
Eden nods, silent as she considers the events of the day. Brandon finally looks up.
“I hope things went according to your wishes?” he inquires politely, Eden giving a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes over to him.
“Yes Brandon, thank you. Is the penthouse ready for me?”
Brandon nods, realization suddenly hitting him as Eden opens the door to her office.
“Miss Morgan, there's someone waiting for you in there! I apologize ma'am, I completely forgot--”
Eden stares into her office, her expression gone chilling, lines of strain showing. She holds up a hand to Brandon, refusing to remove her stare from the man standing before her.
“It's fine,” she says, her response clipped as she enters the room, closing the door on herself and Jason Ingalls. The silence stretches between them, tension building with every second of it. Jase clears his throat and looks down at his hands, rolling something between his fingers.
“Edie, I--”
“Tell me what you have to tell me, and then leave,” Eden is all movement, her voice no-nonsense as she removes her jacket and strides over to her desk, placing it down atop it. She doesn't glance at her former lover as she starts to sift through paperwork on her desk. Jase stops, licking his lips. He looks down at what appears to be a vial in his hands and then back up at her. He sighs heavily, his expression grim before finally looking up, tone business-like.
“Had it sent to the lab like you asked--”
“I already assumed that, Jason, or you wouldn't be here. What is it?” she cuts him off. Jase clenches his jaw before continuing.
“It's a drug--”
“Considering where it came from, I know damn well it's a drug, so either start giving me useful information or get the fuck out.”
Jase sucks in a breath at her words, his spine stiffening. “Fine. From the information I've gathered it looks to be a hallucinogen. Like LSD, but there are some structural differences the techs weren't clear on. Maybe if you could just tell me--”
“Is that all?” she asks, sounding uninterested. Jase blinks at her.
“I—I guess so.” He turns halfway, moving toward the door, her voice stopping him.
“Jason. Aren't you forgetting something?”
Jase turns back around, a hopeful expression on his face. “Am I?”
Eden stares at him coldly. “Leave the vial.”
Jase stiffens, closing his fist around the vial. “Why do you want it?”
“That's my business.”
Jase pauses for a moment and then steps forward, looking down at the vial in his hands before placing it gently on her desk. He watches her warily for a few moments and then backs away, stopping at the door.
“Where did you get that from?”
Eden remains silent, Jase turning back toward the door, having not expected a response anyway.
“From the man whose murder you orchestrated.”
The delivery of her words comes flat and emotionless, but the words themselves stab him like a thousand pins, digging into his skin, the accusation that had lain mostly unspoken between them suddenly and uncomfortably hanging in the air. There was nothing he could say to that. All there was to do was to leave in a hurry, cheeks flushed and tension radiating from every fiber of his being.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
Travis' penthouse apartment. For weeks on weeks I destroyed it every night. I let myself explode within the walls again and again, allowing the therapy and healing that violence can bring to wash over me. It was fantastic and glorious and I couldn't wait until the sun would set so I could do it all over again, shed this itchy and tight skin and fly among the shards of shattered glass and broken dreams. And then it didn't work anymore.
Even pure and utter destruction loses its luster when it becomes monotonous, the same thing over and over again, caught on a loop. I knew it when I walked in here a few weeks ago and I only wanted to sleep. Tired. So tired. But the yearning, the tightness, it remained, and it's grown stronger. The destruction of things bores it. It's the destruction of people it wants, even if it's the self. I'm a more worthy opponent than any set before me.
Eden steps through the doorway, Brandon close at her heels, wringing his hands, anxiety evident. Before he can step through the doorway, Eden slams the door backward in his face. His voice comes muffled through the door, Eden ignoring him as she leans down and unstraps her heels at the ankle, face blank. She lifts one of the heels, staring at it for a long moment, waiting for the urge to come to smash it through some glass, the urge to destroy anything and everything she comes in contact with. The urge comes in a weak flicker, disappointment waving through her and washing it all away. She drops the heel onto the floor and pads into the kitchen, pulling a bottle up inspection, a murky greenish fluid inside. On the counter sits a medium-sized glass with a bulb at the bottom of it, a large slotted spoon, a bowl with several sugar cubes within it, and a glass vial with a dropper. Off to the side sits an ornate silver vessel, a central container containing iced water with several taps stemming from it.
Sliding the glass over before her, she carefully pours in a measure of the greenish liquid, tipping the bottle back and then giving a little laugh as she pours double that into the glass, filling it just over halfway. She corks the bottle, lifting the spoon and placing it over the top of the glass, then two sugar cubes on top of it. Taking the vial and dropper, she places two drops on each cube with a steady hand before sliding the dropper back into the vial and back onto the counter. Eden watches with fascination as the surface of each cube starts to slowly dissolve under the weight of the concoction before sliding the entire glass under one of the taps and flipping a lever, water dripping out slowly and steadily to land on the sugar cubes, causing them and the ice cold water to trickle down into the glass below.
Giving a satisfied smile, she turns away and starts to pull the pins from her hair, letting it fall down around her as she goes on her nightly inspection of the apartment. All was in order, as it ever was. She pauses before the large windows, overlooking the shining lights of the still-bustling city below her, her thoughts jumping rapidly from one topic to another, unable to settle.
Maybe it isn't just my skin. Maybe it's my bones too. Everything tight, compressed, to the point I can't see or hear anything anymore. I can't even think. Is it any wonder I don't see him?
The steady drip-drip finally catches her attention once again, Eden turning back from her transfixion at the windows to pick the glass up, staring in wonder at the changed color and the opaqueness of the liquid within. She dumps the remaining bits of sugar cubes into the glass and stirs with the spoon before placing it on the counter.
Without another thought, she drinks.
If you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
Eden drops down onto the sofa, her gaze vacant as she stares out the windows before her. Her eyelids flutter closed, dark lashes coming to rest on her cheeks as she leans her head back to rest along the line of the sofa, a relaxed expression softening her features. She turns her head to the side, opening her eyes and stares into a pair of blue eyes beside her. She smiles slowly, reaching out to grasp Ryan's hand.
“You came,” she whispers, her gaze devouring him hungrily. He stares at her sadly and then looks away, shaking his head.
“What're you doin' Edie?”
Eden watches him, her expression lost. “You left me.”
Ryan snorts. “I'm fucking dead, Edie. The fuck you want me to do, haunt you?”
When she doesn't respond, Ryan passes a hand through his chin-length blonde hair. He sits forward, bracing elbows on knees, not looking at her as he speaks.
“Look, you gotta let me go, darlin'. Because at this point-- I'm just an excuse. I'm your trump card, what you pull out when you wanna feel better about all the horrible shit you pull.”
Eden sits up a little straighter, her eyes standing out against the almost unnatural paleness of her skin, dark hair tangled and hanging down around her.
“Is that why you stayed away? Because that's what you think?”
Ryan explodes off the couch with uttered curses, standing in front of her, his white t-shirt pristine over his baggy, dark blue jeans.
“Wake up, Edie! You think I'm a fucking ghost here, but I'm no more here than I was months ago. This is all in your head Edie, only now you're so goddamned fucked up you can't even put me next to you anymore without chemically altering yourself! What's that tell you, huh? Think you need to change some shit?!”
Eden doesn't respond.
“Ya know, explain something to me, Edie. All those months ago, when you were comin' out of your shit, you put me over Travis and then flipped it. Travis brought you out. He helped you. Why you doin' all this to him?”
Eden doesn't respond.
“Why?!” Ryan screams at her, his eyes intense. Eden finally looks at him, eyes wild.
“Because it should have been him. You should have been safe and it should have been him.”
Ryan pauses, looking off.
“It all goes back to him. Nothing would have been possible without Travis Pierce or his power and influence. Jet and Cypress could have pulled it off, but Travis made things easier for them. Jase was jealous of Travis, why didn't he give the okay for him instead of you? IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN HIM!” she screams back, Ryan recoiling.
“Edie- this won't bring me back-”
“No,” she says, her voice gone low and rough. “But it will take from him everything he never should have had to begin with. If he hadn't had it... you'd still be here.”
“You don't know that,” Ryan says sadly, Eden shaking her head.
“I do.”
Ryan starts to say something then stops, starting again.
“You need... to let this go, Edie. It's destroying you. I know you don't see it that way, but it is. It's tearing you down, bit by bit, and you're not only allowing it, you're wallowing in it. You have to let it go, you have to let me go, and you have to stop all of this.”
Eden chuckles. “I haven't even begun yet.”
Ryan's expression hardens. “So be it. But before you cement your path, there's two others you should see.”
Eden tries to sit up, barely able to lift her arms from the couch to reach out to him, panicked. “Don't leave me, please don't leave me--” he disappears before her, an anguished wail issuing from her lips. She forces herself to her feet, her legs feeling leaden and heavy as she stumbles her way back into the kitchen, scooping up the glass once again and preparing her drink with shaking hands.
“Don't you think you've had enough?”
Eden's eyes widen as she turns, the glass crashing to her feet.
“Colin?”
Brandon stares at the door, indecision written on his face. The shouting, the wails, and then the final crash of the glass... and then nothing.
He pulls out his cellphone, dialing a number frantically.
I wear this crown of shit
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Eden sinks to the floor, not feeling the shards of glass as they slice into her skin. She stares up at the man before her, eyes wide.
“Colin-- you're better--”
“Imagine my surprise, Eden, to awaken and learn all that I've learned. Everything I've missed over the past several months.”
Eden smiles, joy written all over her face.
“And are you proud of me? Of everything I've done?”
Colin shakes his head, as if fighting back a laugh.
“Proud? What do I have to be proud of? You've stolen an empire, ruined a partnership, forged a new gathering of a flock of some of the most untrustworthy individuals to ever grace the same room, you've won the World Title and lost it in the amount of time it took one of the nurses to change out one of my IV bags, you've participated in plot after plot, scheme after scheme-- and in all that, you never found the time to regain my cane like you promised me? You remember that promise, don't you Eden? The promise to make Dirge pay? What happened to that? Or did your desire for revenge disappear when you could no longer see me?”
The smile fades from Eden's face as she stares up at Colin, a man she considered to be her mentor.
“No, it was never like that. It was always there, just--”
“Other things came first, right? Other things that suited your purpose. You could come back to that when you needed to, right Eden? It's how you do things, it's your pattern. You cry victim, swear revenge, give a halfhearted attempt at it, then blame everyone else when things don't go your way. Then you forget. Your past. Your present. And your future. In a neat little bow.”
Eden shakes her head, whispering “No.”
Colin crouches down before her, looking at her with disdain. “Yes, it is. Poor little Eden, the manipulative, lying, Princess constantly in need of saving. Who is your protector now? There's a long list and you've never used the same ones twice-- except for Travis. He continually supported you, he protected you as best he could, the man may even have loved you, and how did you repay him for some supposed slight, some whim of fate that you decided didn't go your way? You know what I think, Eden? This is all just an excuse. Had Dragon done what you wish he had, had he slaughtered Travis Pierce instead of Ryan Hanneman... you would be using Pierce as your crutch instead of Hanneman. And someone else would be your scapegoat. Because that's how you operate. I'm sorry I ever took you under my wing. I'm sorry I ever had faith in you. And I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner--” he raises his arm, the cane that had beaten him down in his hand as his arm drops swiftly toward Eden.
She looks up and then closes her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks as she waits for the blow to strike.
Beneath the stains of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here
“How long has it been?”
Brandon spins around to see Jason Ingalls coming off the elevator behind him, a large black bag slung over his shoulder.
“What?”
“How long has it been since you heard something?” Jase barks at Brandon, Brandon throwing his arms up frantically.
“Not long, a few minutes ago I heard a voice in there. So she's still okay.”
“Was it hers?” Jase demands, Brandon staring at him as if he'd grown two heads.
“Well of course it was hers, there's no one else in there.” More yelling issues forth from behind the door, the two men staring at it grimly. Brandon crosses his arms.
“So what do we do now?”
“We wait,” Jase mutters, looking suddenly much more tired.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
The blow never lands. When Eden opens her eyes, it's to see Ryan standing before her, sorrow etched deeply into his face.
“I would ask what we've done to you, Edie, but you've done this all yourself, haven't you?”
“Where's Colin?” she asks. Ryan doesn't answer, holding out a hand to help her to her feet, glass crunching beneath them. He glances over at the vial on the counter, closing his eyes and shaking his head before looking back at her.
“You know you're destroying yourself.” It was a statement, not question. Eden just looks at him, Ryan smoothing her hair down as he cups her face, his tragic and almost desperate, his voice ragged as he speaks.
“I will always remember you best... as this innocent young girl. Beautiful. A light in the world. And then you were infected. Infected with life, traumas, experiences. You were a balance of light and dark, this poised and powerful, amazing woman. And then the balance tipped. You can balance the scales again, Eden. But first, you need to see what happens if you don't.” He presses his forehead to hers before placing a kiss where his skin had just touched, backing away from her. Eden reaches out to him, hands going through him.
“Ryan?! Ryan, no, you can't leave me! Ryan!!” she screams as he fades out before her eyes. She breaks into sobs, a chuckle coming from behind her. The chuckle grows into an all-out laugh, chills running down her spine as she recognizes it, spinning around to find Mickey Dragon standing behind her. Blood covers him from head to foot, seeping from wounds all over his body, coated in his hair and saturated around his nails-- and yet the laughter continues. Eden scrambles backward, eyes wide and filled with terror as he stalks over to her, one hand clutching the pipe wrench she had used twice on him.
“Where... oh where... are you going... my dear?” Dragon singsongs, Eden's back coming up against a wall as he presses closer. He raises the pipe wrench up, Eden screaming as it slams into the wall inches from her head. He slides a bloody hand over her hair and then grips her face.
“See, see what little Edie has become? Everyone's favorite, perfect little angel?” he leans in closer, whispering in Eden's ear. “It's... delicious,” Dragon runs his tongue up her cheek and into her hairline, Eden flinching away and shuddering, choking down the urge to vomit as he continues. “Almost like... I... planned... it... myself,” he whispers in her ear again as she starts to hyperventilate.
“I always said you... look... like my sister. Yes, my sister. And I knew... I knew there was a darkness in you. But... but.. I never... NEVER in my wildest fucking dreams,” he gets positively giddy, voice rising in pitch, “expected you to have this level of cruelty. Yes. It's uh... it's beautiful,” he backs away from her, Eden doubling over. Dimly, she hears voices coming through the door, the laughter bringing her focus back to him.
“You uh,” Mickey grins and cocks his head to the side, “you fought so hard... against me. And hated me. You never even... noticed... what you're becoming. What your... future holds.”
Eden shakes her head, mumbling “No” over and over to herself as she drops down to the floor, clutching her arms around herself and rocking back and forth. Something cold beneath her chin stops her, making her raise her eyes up to stare into the deadly and piercing eyes of Mickey Dragon as he holds the pipe wrench beneath her chin.
“I am your evolution, Eden. I am your future. And when you finish your destruction of Travis Pierce at Horizons, you'll take another step down that path.”
Eden loses all sense of space and time as she stares into those dead eyes, splintering and shattering sounding behind her barely registered, along with an anguished scream surrounding her. As Dragon fades as Ryan had done, she collapses to the floor, a brief image of Jase and Brandon coming for her imprinted in her mind before she closes her eyes.
If you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
“You sure we should keep her here?” Brandon asks for the umpteenth time, moving around the apartment, looking for even one more thing out of place, almost begging for it. Jase sits on a barstool, glancing toward the bedroom with a worried look every few minutes.
“I'm not sure of anything right now. But I know she would want this kept quiet. If it gets out, she's out of Horizons, and she loses the Network,” Jase responds, sifting through the bag of supplies he had brought with him. Brandon clears his throat.
“Surely... she had to know that was a risk she was running when she did this,” Brandon says softly, watching Jase closely. Jase shrugs.
“Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't care. Eden doesn't seem to care about the rules much anymore. She does things her own way,” Jase trails off, Brandon starting to say something. He stops and walks away, before coming back.
“What if-- what if she doesn't want to face... Pierce?”
Jase stares hard at Brandon.
“You're either really stupid to say that name or you got a lot of balls. I'm not sure which right now-”
“It's the man's name, and I'm serious. Miss Morgan's been... acting oddly the past few days. What if-- she's having second thoughts? About a lot of things?”
Jase stares at Brandon for a moment without responding and then looks at the partially closed door to the bedroom where he had taken Eden some time before.
“Hope springs eternal, I suppose,” Jase murmurs. Brandon shrugs and nods his head before taking up post again.
And they wait.
Eden opens her eyes, crystal-blue irises staring unblinkingly, a heavy weight held inside. She doesn't move other than to blink and the soft rise and fall of her chest as she stares straight ahead into nothing and beyond.
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
- Lyrics from "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails