So, new story. One that's been bugging me FOREVER. *eye twitch*

Erm, I know it says 'Horror' but I didn't mean like, ya know, zombie horror, or anything. Mostly just really disturbing, occasionaly gory, scenes.

Um, WARNING: You may be a little pissy about it, but Simon's OOC. And it's rated M for a reason. Sexual harassment, language...And I'll tell you the chapters it happens.

Disclaimer: Cassie owns the characters. I just make 'em crazy. ;)


Clary

The Fat Dude


"You know, that man is probably cheating on his wife." Simon pointed at a short, frankly fat, rich-looking man. The idiot was wearing a tuxedo in a coffee house. Not even a business outfit. A green, velvet-looking tuxedo.

I took a sip from my black coffee. Straight up black. No cream, no sugar. It makes me feel more natural. Plus, I feel bad for cows when I drink cream. Nobody got permission to pull at the cows' titties, just for the greed of mankind.

Simon hates cows. He told me that hamburgers are made from cows.

I stopped eating hamburgers when I was five.

Simon poked my arm. "Hey, Clary."

I looked away from the rich/fat-dude. He was hitting on the barista. I don't like knowing when men are cheating on their wives. Ignorance is better.

Yeah. Ignorance is bliss.

"What?"

Simon grinned at me, looking a little evil. "You see that fat dude?"

I rolled my eyes. Boys. Love hearing themselves talk, I think. "We were just talking about the fat dude, Si."

Weird looks were shot my way, but I ignored them. Ignorance is bliss. Scorn and pity is obnoxious.

"Well, you know what he just said to that hot chick?"

I shifted in my seat. I'd known Simon since I was four. He was like a big brother, best friend, and dad rolled into one. But when he got "freaky"...On more than one occasion my mother had found me hiding the broom closet.

"What did he say?" If it was something dirty, I didn't want to hear it. Dirty words, like "dick" and "fuck" made my skin crawl. It was some of the many things my daddy used to say.

Simon leaned forward. Silly boy. Nobody would hear him, anyway. "He asked her if she had a boyfriend."

I frowned over my mug. "And?"

"He said if she didn't, she could go. If she did..." He shrugged. "He wanted to take her into the backroom and-"

I clapped my hands over my ears. "La la la la la," I screamed at the top of my lungs. "I can't HEAR YOU."

"Excuse me." A man sitting in a booth behind me tapped my shoulder.

I turned around, and smiled at him. "Hello," I said, waving. He looked nice.

He edged away, a bit. I frowned, hurt. Was he scared of me? Why was he scared of me?

"Um..." he cleared his throat. "I was wondering where your parents are." He narrowed his eyes. "You look kind of young. And you aren't exactly acting...your age in a public place."

Simon scoffed. "Tell him to piss off, Clary." He sneered. "That little shit can't tell you what to do."

I scowled at him. "None of your business," I snapped. "So piss off." I turned back to Simon. "That was rude of me," I whispered. Then I turned back to tap the man's shoulder.

"What?" Simon slapped his forehead. "No! Don't apologize..."

Don't apologize. They never do, so why should you?

"What do you want?" The man, who I thought looked nice, was looking very ugly, at the moment. His nose was lumpy. His ears were lopsided. His mouth was thin-like fish lips. And I think his mole had a hair in it.

"Nothing." I turned back to look at Simon. "Why would he cheat on his wife like that?"

Simon sighed. "Because people are like that. You can't trust 'em." He pointed at the fat guy. "Him, for example. Rich, married, most likely has a kid, at his age. Yet he throws it away, for a few minutes of pleasure."

I looked at the fat guy, picturing him with devil horns, and a goatee. A sobbing woman, maybe a blonde lady, because blondes are pretty, behind him, wondering why she wasn't good enough. Why wasn't she enough?

"He's ugly."

Simon nodded. "Yeah. And the sad thing is, he's never going to stop."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course he will. People can change."

Simon shook his head. "I love how innocent you are. But, people like him never change."

I was careful not to scream "La la la" again, instead, I settled for drinking my black coffee.


Simon held my hand when we got up to leave the cafe, because I liked having my hand held. I liked to be touched, in a friendly way. I wonder what a hug would feel like. I closed my eyes, imagining coffee. With sugar and cream. It'd be sweet and warm. Hugs are like sweet coffee, I decided. Simon never hugged me. My mother never did. And I never asked my father for a hug.

"Red." I looked over my shoulder, and felt disgust trickle through me. It was the fat guy. The fat, rich guy. The fat, rich guy, who cheated on his wife. Constantly.

"What do you want, cheater?" I snarled, giving him my best tiger glare; Lips curled to reveal my teeth, eyes squinched. Simon told me I looked terrifying, my dad slapped me and told me to stop sassing. My mom thought I looked pathetic.

The fat guy wasn't impressed by my tiger glare, either. He smiled at me, sweetly. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

I rolled my eyes. "I just had coffee."

His smile faded. "Well, do you want to go for a walk?"

I thought about it. Simon was shaking his head at me. "Don't do it, Clary," he warned. "This guy is bad news."

I looked at the fat guy. "Will you hug me?"

He looked at me. "I love that act you've got, going on," he purred, and I was worried for a second he may have had a hairball lodged in his throat. Yuck. I hated hairballs. "All innocent. Stupid. Like a little girl."

I frowned. I wasn't stupid. And I was not a little girl. "I'll have you know," I huffed. "That I am fifteen. Not a little girl."

He shrugged. "Have it your way. Now, about this walk..." He grabbed my arm, and pulled me out.

"Clary..." Simon crossed his arms. "If he does something inappropriate, I'm gonna say I told ya so."

I shrugged. The fat guy seemed harmless. A jerk, definitely. But I mean, what was the worse he could do?


"So, you're a virgin?"

I blinked, and looked over at the fat guy, who was looking at me in a way that made me want to run and hide. Like I was food, or something like that.

And who asked something like that? Was it his business whether I was a virgin or not?

"Why do you care?" I asked, putting my hands in the pockets of the jacket I'd found in my daddy's closet the other night, when I'd been hiding in there. It was warm, and came down past my knees. It felt like a blanky, wrapped around me. Kind of like protection.

He looked at me, then pulled me over to stand in front of a brick wall, and stood in front of me.

It looked like he was blocking me, but I just figured I was being paranoid.

"I want to know." He scowled at me. "Now it's a simple question; Are you a virgin, or not?"

My back was pressed against the bricks. Ouch. I wanted to slap him, but I couldn't do that. I mean, why should I hit him over no reason?

He began talking some more, but my eyes slid over his shoulder, and I waved at the green elephant that was standing in the middle of the street. I hope nobody crashes into him. But who could hit an elephant? It waved back at me with it's trunk, and I giggled. It looked so silly.

"What the hell is your deal?" He shoved my shoulders. "What are you, crazy? Talking to yourself gets you enough attention, don't you think?"

I frowned at him. "Don't touch me like that." Only my daddy could hit me. And I didn't even like it when he did, either.

He sneered at me. "I can touch you however I want to." He slapped a hand on one of my boobs, and chuckled. "If I want to hit you here, I will."

I felt my hands beginning to sweat, and my breathing quickened. I decided that I did not enjoy being touched like that. It felt very violating, and I just didn't like it.

"Please don't touch me," I whispered, bringing my arms up to cover my chest. Even Daddy's jacket couldn't protect me from him. "I don't want you touching me."

He laughed. "You don't? Then I bet you won't like this-"

He reached down, and slapped me...there.

I screamed, and slapped him, raking my nails down his cheek.

"You little bitch!" He hit me, his hand slapping my face. "I didn't say you could touch me, did I?"

I didn't answer, feeling myself trembling.

Simon was right. He wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to change. Not even when I asked him to, he kept touching me. I slid my hand up Daddy's jacket, into one of his inside pockets.

Fat guy noticed. "You get off by being hit?" He shook his head. "You little slut. Should've known-"

I pulled my switchblade out, clicking the little button so that the blade popped out.

He scoffed. "Seriously? You think you can hurt me with that?"

I raised the knife with a shaky hand, and stared him, straight in the eyes. "Are you going to leave me alone?"

"I told you, I'll do whatever I want with you."

I felt disappointed. I'd honestly hoped he would apologize.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." I swung the knife at him, shoving it deep into his stomach. It jiggled as he bled, like it was shaking out the blood.

I stepped away, because there was so much blood. On my hands, my sneakers, the ripped cuffs of my jeans...I pulled the switchblade out, because I figured it'd be uncomfortable to have a knife sticking out of your bellybutton.

I wiped away the sweat on my face, leaving streaks of scarlet as I did.

Simon walked up to me, his expression a mix of pride and disgust. "Serves him right." He looked up at me. "You alright?"

I shrugged. The fat guy was dead. I should be heartbroken. I'd just killed a man.

Oddly enough, I just felt indifferent about it.

The elephant let out a triumphant trumpeting sound.

I giggled, painting a bloody smiley face on the fat guy's green velvet tuxedo. So pretty. I decided I would very much enjoy to have his jacket.

I tugged it off him, kicking his body off me when he flopped onto my toes.

I pulled of Daddy's jacket, and replaced it with the green velvet jacket.

It was a little damp with blood, but I felt beautiful, wearing something so luxurious. "How do I look?"

Simon grinned at me. Freaky Simon vanished, and replaced with Sweet Simon. "Absolutely gorgeous."


"So you...killed Hodge Starkfeather?" The officer looked at me, his partner had her hand on her gun.

I nodded, sticking the lollipop that the sweet secretary had given me when some hysterical woman found me with the dead body of, apparently, Hodge, into my mouth. Hodge. What a peculiar name.

"Er..." He looked over at his partner, who just shrugged. "Tell me, Miss..."

"Fray. Clary Fray." I smiled at me, showing all my teeth. "And sir, I have to say, I love that picture you have of your wife." I pointed at his desk, with the smiling blonde woman he was kissing. "She's ravishing. I always thought blondes were attractive, you know."

He cleared his throat. "She isn't my wife."

I glanced down at his hand. He had a wedding ring...

If Simon were in here, I'd have him slap that cheating jerk.

"You have issues, kid." The partner straightened from where she was leaning against the wall. "You killed a man. Do you feel any regret for that? Or do you just not care at all?"

I shrugged. "He was nice. But then he started touching me..." I leaned forward. "And touched my private parts. It was very rude of him, don't you think?"

The officer rubbed at his eyes. "Ms. Leigh tells us that you were...delirious on the way here. Were you sick before you attacked Starkfeather?"

I shook my head. "No." I looked down at the bloody smile, beginning to dry. The smile looked sad, from this angle. "Are my parents here?"

The officer took a deep breath. "Miss Fray...You aren't going home."

I blinked, and lifted my knees to my chest. To make myself seem smaller. "Why?" Did my parents not want me anymore? I mean, they've kicked me out, before. But they'd always taken me back in.

"We want to help you, Miss Fray. We know just the place that will do just the trick."

I frowned at him. "But I don't need any help."

"We believe, from the notes we've taken, that you're sick."

Sick? I was healthy. Aside from my poor diet, and more bruises and broken bones than I can remember, I haven't been sick in...A long time.

"I'm not sick," I informed him. "I have perfect health. I've never had to see a doctor, I'm that healthy."

He sighed. "Trust me, Miss Fray. You're lucky. If you weren't...ah, sick, you'd probably be in a heap of trouble."

They took my switchblade. So I couldn't leave. Not to mention, I started feeling kind of guilty about the whole thing.

"Where am I going?"

He stood up. "You'll see, Miss Fray."

I tiger-snarled at him.


I didn't like this place.

Nope. Not a bit.

They let me keep the tux, saying that I probably needed a little color to cheer me up.

But the building they brought me to...It reminded me of scary movies. Like haunted mansions.

Or, in this case, a haunted asylum.

I climbed out, shoving my hands into the pockets of the jacket, and smiled gratefully at the driver who carried my little bag, which contained the small amount of things I owned; A teddy bear, the only thing I ever got close to hugging, a sketchpad, a pencil, and a hairbrush.

He flinched at my smile, and I frowned. He kept his distance as we walked up the steps to the building.

The door opened before I could knock, and a tall, skinny boy with glitter in his hair and makeup covering his face, swung open the door.

"You're the new kid," he told me, eyes narrowing.

The driver dropped my bag, and ran down the stairs.

"Thank you for letting me listen to the radio," I yelled after him. Seriously, what a nice guy. I never got to play with the radio.

Simon appeared next to me. "That dude looks freaky," he murmured.

I didn't care. "I like your glitter," I told him.

He grinned at me, looking like one of the stray cats I'd used to sneak food out to, until Daddy found out where all his beer and cheese was disappearing to, and shot all three of them. "I like my sparkles, too." He gave me a once over. "I love that tux," he said, nodding at my jacket. "What designer is it?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I took it off a dead body."

He laughed. "Another killer, eh?" He reached his hand out, and I slid my hand into his. "Me and you will get along just fine, New Girl."


"Now," the boy, who told me his name was Magnus, said. "You need to be careful, in this place."

"Because it's full of crazy people, right?"

He looked at me. "You're crazy, if you're here," he said. "But what I was saying is, we don't like newbies. Especially specific people." He shrugged his bony shoulders. "So if someone jumps out of a closet, or follows you into the bathroom, and snaps your neck, it's nothing new."

"Oh." I frowned. "But you're nice to me."

Magnus threw an arm around my shoulders. "Yeah. But that's because you complimented me."

Simon snickered. "I'll bet that doesn't happen often."

I shot him a dirty look. "Shh." I liked Magnus. And I liked Simon, too, but he could be a real meanie.

Magnus didn't give me a weird look when I shushed someone he couldn't see. The people here must really be crazy.

"So...Anybody got killed because they were new?"

Magnus snorted. "Of course. Especially the weirdos."

Huh. "Why are you here?"

He shook his head. "I can gurantee if you ask anybody that, they won't hesitate to murder you."

"Offensive question, huh? But don't they take weapons away when you first get here?"

He shrugged. "Well, when you've lived here long enough, you learn that you don't need weapons." He got a dark look in his eyes. "Strangled with the yo-yo string. Pushed down the stairs. Punched in the throat."

"That's awful."

"But, to answer your question..." He pulled me closer to him, and bent over, because he was more than twice my height. "I'm here for murder, too."

For some reason, I still wasn't scared of him. Probably because he reminded me of a kitten.

"When am I going to meet everyone?" Truthfully, I was more scared of how that was going to happen.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Right now."

Someone dropped-literally dropped-in front of me, landing neatly on the balls of their feet.

I jumped back, and stared at the tall, beautiful girl standing in front of me. Her inky hair was in two plaits, and she was looking at me with raised eyebrows. "Newbie?"

"I'm Clary." I held my hand out. "You're very pretty."

She blinked, and took my hand. "I'm Isabelle. You're very...Short?"

Well, that's nice of her to say. If it was a compliment...

Magnus wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Clary, Isabelle. Isabelle, don't scare Clary." Isabelle snapped her head at Magnus. "She's my friend," he defended. "If you push her out a window, like last time, I'll have Jace go after you."

Isabelle paled at the name "Jace", and she shook her head. "Whatever." She looked down at me. "I'll see you later, I guess. Freak." She leaped away, crawling nimbly up the walls, and disappearing.

I clapped. "Wow, how did she-?"

Magnus gave a snort. "I think she's here because she thinks she's a spider, or some weird shit like that." He pulled me gently further down the hall.

"Hey, Magnus?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's Jace?"

Magnus stopped, and looked at me. "He's not someone you want to mess with, I'll tell you that."

"Oh." That wasn't very helpful. I touched his elbow. "Is he-is he not nice?"

He grinned. "Not nice? You could call him that."

I made a whining noise. "You're a hard nut to crack, you know it?"

Magnus sighed. "If I tell you, promise not to tell him I told you?"

"Why, are you friends?"

He shook his head. "Hell, no. We just have a mutual agreement."

"So...?"

"He's a pyro." Magnus shrugged. "He doesn't really make it a secret...He's blown up so many beds, it isn't even funny."

I giggled. "Did he blow up your bed?"

Magnus sighed. "No. He did blow up a newbie's bed once. With the newb in it."

I winced. "He doesn't sound very...welcoming."

Magnus nodded. "Which is why I'd appreciate if you stayed away from him, for now."


We ate dinner on the floor, in a circle with the other people who lived here.

They ignored me. When I waved at Isabelle, she didn't look at me.

Magnus elbowed me. "People can't know she talked to you," he explained. "Otherwise she gets the same treatment."

I nodded. "Oh. So she's not trying to hurt my feelings."

"Of course not. I'd kick her ass if she was."

"Thanks, Magnus." I laid my head on his shoulder, and everyone in the circle froze, staring at me.

"You aren't supposed to touch anybody," he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

But he didn't shrug me off, so I didn't take my head off him, or remove my arm from around his waist. A half-hug. It was nice. Not as nice as a real hug, but it was a start.

"Finally got a girl, Magnus?" A silky voice broke through the silent room. "Alec not good enough for you?"

Magnus scowled. "Piss off, Wayland."

I frowned, and lifted my head, looking for whoever had spoken to Magnus like that.

Everyone avoided my gaze, except for a boy, who was staring straight at me, defiantly.

He was blonde.

His eyes were yellow, and while Magnus reminded me of a wild kitten, he reminded me of a lion.

He had a scar that cut across his right eyebrow, which was raised as he stared at me, his narrow mouth quirked at a private joke. I also noticed more scars, peeking out from beneath his shirt and long black sleeves.

"I don't blame you the least, Maggie," the boy, Wayland, chuckled. "She's cute. Even with that ugly jacket."

I scowled. "Excuse me?" I plucked at the hem of my tux. "But this is my absolute favorite jacket, and if you don't like it, shut up!"

Magnus face-palmed himself.

Wayland grinned, slowly. "Little girl, you think you can tell me what to do?"

I swallowed. He had a really, really attractive smile. He was really pretty, too. Kind of like an angel.

I lifted my chin. "What are you going to do about it if I do?"

The people surrounding us were murmuring, eyes glancing back-and-forth between us.

Wayland shrugged. "Whatever I think you deserve," he said, his voice dangerously soft. I wasn't scared of him, though. I think he was bluffing.

"What do I deserve?" I crossed my arms.

His eyes raked slowly, ever so slowly, up and down my body. "You deserve to be well and thoroughly-"

"Jace," Magnus cut in, his teeth gritted. "You will not touch her."

Oh. I turned red when I heard Wayland's first name come out of Magnus's mouth. This boy, this gorgeous boy, was the person Magnus wanted me to avoid.

Jace smirked, but his eyes didn't leave mine. "I never said I was going to touch her."

Magnus opened his mouth. "You just said that-"

"I said," Jace cut him off smoothly. "That she deserved to be well and thoroughly burned. Don't assume that every girl I see is automatically a victim of my charm."

Magnus's lips tightened. "You're a real douche. You know that?"

Jace just simply smiled at him, the way his eyes darted back to me, was predatorial.

I looked away from him. I didn't like being confused. I didn't like how fast my heart was beating. I felt nervous. What was wrong with me?

"She doesn't seem to think so," Jace pointed out, his golden eyes flickering over my face. I looked down at my lap, fingering the green velvet. Looking anywhere but at him.

"She doesn't know what you're capable of," Magnus said, his voice tight. "Stop looking at her."

Jace didn't look away from me. I don't even think I wanted him to stop looking at me, either.

Isabelle decided to interrupt, by making a fierce growling noise at Jace. She crawled over to where he was sitting, a little outside of the large circle, and bit his shoulder.

He swore, and detatched his arm from between her teeth, and shoved her roughly away. "Stop acting like a fucking animal, Izzy," he hissed.

She made a snarling noise, her expression by far more impressive than my tiger-snarl.

I looked at Magnus. "Is she alright?"

He shrugged. "She gets like this, sometimes." He looked at Isabelle, who slithered across the floor and towards a small, black, curvy girl. "You should've seen her when she thought she was a horse. I don't think I've ever seen someone flip her hair so much."

I frowned. "Why are you so mean to Jace? And who's Alec?"

Magnus sighed, and patted my hand. "Alec's my boyfriend," he said. "He's in the hospital wing. Took a nasty fall when Isabelle, who's actually his sister, thought she was a bird and he tried to stop her from trying to fly."

I looked at Jace. "Jace seems alright," I lied. He wasn't alright. He was making my stomach feel as if I'd swallowed a bucket full of butterfiles. And I wanted him to keep looking at me, but he wasn't, anymore. He was talking to some other guy, not even glancing my way.

Magnus wrinkled his nose. "Jace seems that way to girls. And that never turned out well."

"How did it turn out?"

Magnus leaned forward. "He blew them up."

My eyes widened. "Why isn't he in trouble? If he killed somebody, shouldn't he be in jail?"

Magnus laughed. "Verlac doesn't care as long as the police don't find out." He squeezed my shoulder. "And since I can't follow you everywhere-Alec might get jealous-do me a favor and sleep with one eye open."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, glancing around the circle. These people, some were little kids, some were teenagers like me; They were crazy. Crazier than me.

And according to Magnus, they wanted to kill me.

I looked at Jace. He turned, slightly, and winked slyly at me.

I blushed, before remembering Magnus's warning. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my torso, and turned my head pointedly away. I could sense his surprise at my rebuff, before his expression turned to one of determination.

That couldn't be good.


Sorry this chapter was so long. :/ I couldn't figure out where to end it, because I wanted Jace to be in there, a little.

-Yes, Jace is a pyromaniac.

-And yes, he has killed people. On purpose.

-I don't know if all chapters are going to be this long.

-Clary seems chilidish. She's crazy, and was beaten for the majority of her life; That's why she's immature-ish.

-Magnus is with Alec. He just feels protective over Clary.

-Review