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Games » Baten Kaitos » Don't Tap on the Glass font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: CrackedKatana
Fiction Rated: T - English - Horror/Supernatural - Reviews: 3 - Published: 04-25-08 - Updated: 04-25-08 - Complete - id:4219130

He presses his lips to the glass, kissing it. He presses his hands to the glass and pulls his lips away, grinning like a lunatic. The kiss leaves a smear of red paint.

blood it's blood

"Don't tap on the glass," he whispers, grinning wider.

He presses his whole body against the glass and traces a heart with his right hand.

"I did everything for you, you know. Evv-ree-thing." He himself taps on the glass for emphasis, cocking his hips and pressing his lips together again. He blows a kiss, then frowns.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I did. You know." He grinds out.

Then he laughs. He laughs like a madman. Wild. Insane.

When he's finished, he presses his forehead to the cool glass and starts to speak.

"You know," he begins, "I loved you. I did, so much. And you...you, you, you. You betrayed me." Now he leans back and traces a bloody heart over his bare chest, still grinning in that way that makes his eyes alight with insanity. He presses his "heart" to the glass, now, and smiles.

It's a real smile. Genuine. Tender, even. The paint, the blood on his chest, drips down the glass and down his body. He's still smiling. The blood

no it's paint it's paint just paint

smears on the glass and he backs away after a moment, he cups his hands and presses his fingertips together, another heart to replace the bloody one smeared across the glass, and presses it to his chest.

"You should see your face. I love that look. That must have been how I looked, hm?" Quite suddenly, his eyes glaze with tears. He snarls and slams his body into the cold glass, cracking it ever so slightly with his elbow, all vulnerable, naked skin and lunacy, and says:

"Don't go tap-tapping on the glass, kiddies."

With that, the glass shatters, but he is no longer there.

A soft, maniacal giggle echoes throughout room, with no owner to speak of. It fades. It dies. He dies.

A sob.

Paint drips from the ceiling, splattering to form a bloody heart.

"Everything..."

Another low wail, like that of a wounded creature in a trap, and then...

Nothing.



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