This could be para-para-paradise.

I have an idea of something to write from Chalk’s point of view again, but it’ll have to wait until later.

It’s funny how the inspiration for it came from a ridiculous conversation on twitter.. o:

I’m standing in the lab under the trap door in my living room. The only light is coming from the room above, but i don’t bother to turn the lights on; my eyes were designed for the dark. I can see her perfectly. The walls and floor are bare brick, with some sheets of metal to keep the table in the middle of the room steady. The only sounds are quiet bubbling coming from the several glass vials on shelves bolted to the left wall, and ragged breathing coming from the very back of the room. Coming from her. The noise sounds harsh, surely it must be hurting her throat to make it. But that’s how she always breathes now. The entire far wall of the room is her home. Reinforced glass cases her in, stopping her from getting out unless i want to try experimenting on her again. Slowly, day by day, the contents of every glass vial in the room will be injected into her veins. I’ve given up all hope that any of them will change her, but still i tie her down, drug her, stab her with needles. Torture her. There’s never any change. And soon all the vials will be empty, and the time will come to concoct new remedies to fill them. Then the process begins again.

I step further into the room, past the table and past the shelves and their bubbling, and stop in front of the glass. There she is, lying on the ground, curled into a fetal position with nothing to keep her company but empty bags that were once filled with blood. She hoards them. A large pile of the empty bags lies in one corner of her ‘home’. I don’t dare take them away from her. The sight sickens me. Not because of the pools of blood that take up every crack between the stones, not because of the eerie bags lying in the corner, each one of them marked with an A+ or a B-. They turn my stomach. But what upsets me is that i once knew the girl before me. Cesaelia. My little sister.

Always when i come down here to check on her the first thing i remember is our last conversation. We both still lived with our parents in their large country home. I remember walking into the dining room and seeing my family sitting at the table, sipping from their black wine glasses. Concealing the blood they were drinking. I took my place beside Cesaelia, and her hand found mine.

“Chalky, you’re wearing a new waist coat.” She had said with a smile, “It looks ravishing.”

We had both laughed at her choice of words, because she sounded far too much like our mother when she spoke at the dinner table.

“And you look beautiful.” I had told her.

She had started to say something else, something about telling me a secret, and then the glass had dropped from her hand. It smashed on the floor, spilling its red contents over our shoes. I could feel myself gagging at the sight of it, my eyes filling up with tears, and i would have gotten to my feet if it wasn’t for how tightly Cesaelia had been gripping my hand. Her nails were digging into my knuckles, and she had started to double over in her seat, as if her stomach was hurting.

“Chalk, help…” She had mumbled, and then she let go of my hand.

My mother and father were at her side, holding her up, asking her what was wrong. She had started to convulse in my mother’s arms, her eyes rolling back. As if she had been poisoned. And that’s when i remember the smell. The sickly sweet smell of blood was tainted by something dark. My eyes stung every time i took a breath, and my mouth went dry.

“It’s dead…” Is all i could say as i watched my little sister being carted off by my parents, a wild, angry look taking over her face.

I look at her now, on the stone floor, fast asleep. This is the closest she comes to looking like herself any more. My hand reaches out toward the glass, pressing my palm against it.

“Hey Cee.” I whisper, and she’s on her feet in an instant.

Her eyes are wild, her whites stained pink from all the blood she’s been fed. There are remainders from her last meal all around her mouth, on her fangs, dribbled down her chin and neck. I hardly recognise her when she’s awake. Her clothes are a tattered mess, barely covering her body. Though most of her skin is covered in mud and dried blood any way. Her hair, which i remember so well as being long and wavy, soft to the touch, golden as a ray of morning sunshine, now sticks out around her face like a lion’s mane. She looks like a mad vampire. Though i try not to think of her as that. I don’t flinch or move my hand away as she begins thumping her fists off the glass. There’s not a shred of recognition on her face. All she wants is to break her way through the glass to me, and drink my body dry. Each time she hits the glass a fresh spray of blood stains it. No one has ever looked at me with such hatred before.

“I miss you.”

She starts to shriek. It’s a horrible, pained, tortured sound, and it turns my stomach, but i smile at her despite this.

“I’ll come and see you later, okay?”

I let my hand drop from the glass as she starts to throw herself against it, desperately trying to break. But all she ever breaks is herself. She’s broken almost every bone in her body before, just because of me. Because i won’t let her go. As i back away from the glass her shrieks and howls grow louder, but i don’t have the energy to cry any more, no matter how much i want to.

I cross over to the vials on the shelf and examine the one at the far left. It’s blue, and bubbling softly away to itself. So today is going to be a blue day. I reach up to stroke the side of the vial, and discover it feels warm. A warm blue day.

“Maybe warm and blue is the one that saves her…” I mumble to myself, before climbing back up the ladder to the living room, and closing the trap door on the screams below.

Note to self; Chalk’s lizard is called Claudia. I need to stop forgetting these things sdfkjdkghdgkh

Omg i made a Pottermore account for Kage just because i wanted to see what house he would be in and his wand is redwood with unicorn core, 14 1/2 inches, rigid and he’s in Hufflepuff. sfkjsdhgfkjshg baby

Sanitarium by Metallica is like.. so relevant to Shadow it’s unbelievable. It’s his theme song. No joke.

Anonymous asked: What sort of accent does Kage have?

Oh, good question. c: It’s sort of strange since he lived in Japan until he was 13. He’s adopted an American accent, but if you listen carefully you can still hear an Oriental sound to it. He pronounces some words funny as well, depending how often he uses them.

I knew before they even came into sight that i wouldn’t be able to hide in time. A tight knot grew inside my stomach the closer i got to home. Just a gut feeling, but it was always right. I veered off the concrete path and started crossing over the grass, trying to reach my apartment building before they could catch me. I always had to fight with myself not to just make myself invisible, because i knew someone would see me do it out here in the middle of the street. Especially them. And if they knew i was different i wouldn’t be waking up in the morning. 

I could see it now, the building. I was so close. But then came a shout.

“Guys looks, it’s ickle Kagey!”

I had no idea what his real name was, but all of the others called him Shark, so i used it as well. It was rather fitting; he was stealthy and deadly, with a grin that seemed to reveal an endless amount of sharp teeth. His voice had come from an alleyway not too far from my left, and he was now approaching me with three other boys flanked on each side. I was a fast runner, but there was no way i could outrun seven boys older and fitter than me. So i stopped, and turned to face them.

I knew before i even looked at him that he would have that grin on his face. And sure enough there it was. But strangely it almost comforted me. In the brief moments between them spotting me and reaching me i always felt excited. Because when you’re invisible to the world, being seen by even the worst person in the world is always nice.

“Where’ve ya been today Kagey? Off tryin’ to hang yourself, or maybe slitting your wrists?” There was venom in his voice, and his grin widened when his gang started laughing behind him.

I stayed silent. I had been doing neither of these things, but that was hardly important. Shark’s hand twitched toward his pocket, as if checking something was still there. His fingers curled around something black for a second before he let it go again, changing his mind. For a second i wondered what it was, but my thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey boys, why don’t we try out our new toy on our friend here?” A murmur ran through the row of boys behind Shark, but only for a moment. They were soon laughing.

I had been keeping my eyes on Shark the whole time, i didn’t care about the others. They were nothing. They never moved without an order, nor did they ever approach me when they were by themselves. But the sheer number of them in front of me was what made me feel scared, and as soon as the words left Shark’s mouth the knot in my stomach returned, tighter than ever. He must had seen the look on my face because he let out a laugh. It was flat and cold, and it sent a shiver down my spine. With a click of his fingers two of the boys behind him moved forward and grabbed one of my wrists tightly and started pulling me back toward the alley they had come from. I knew no matter how hard i kicked and lashed out neither of them would let go, but despite this i tried to pull myself away from them. The boy on my right snickered and dug his nails into my skin, and i was sure he drew blood. They forced me against the wall, which i could feel was damp through my shirt, and what little light was entering the alley seemed to be blocked out as the rest of the group stood at its mouth. I tried one last time to escape the grip of the boys, but a punch in the stomach from one of them stopped me. The blow caused me to lean forward, hissing quietly in pain. When i looked back up Shark was standing in front of me, twiddling something between his fingers. It was the black thing he had been reaching for earlier. Except it wasn’t all black, that had only been the handle. A large butcher’s knife was in his hand, glinting dangerously in the little light managing to make it into the alley. Shark’s eyes flashed playfully, the way they always did before he was about to inflict pain, like it gave him some sort of pleasure. I hadn’t realised i had been holding my breath until he lunged toward me, causing me to gasp. He stopped his hand when the knife was only a couple of inches from my face.

“Scared, Kagey?”

The only sound in the alley was my breathing. I wasn’t bothering to try and keep it quiet; i was scared. More scared than i had been in a long time. The blade of the knife moved and i couldn’t stop myself from squeezing my eyes shut as Shark rested it against my nose. Another murmur ran through the gang. A worried, low hum of a murmur. I found myself wondering if anyone here hadn’t expected it to come this far. That maybe Shark was just joking about. But surely they should know as well as i do that he never joked around. And whenever he got himself a ‘new toy’ he was going to use it. I felt the knife move, and for a moment i thought he was pulling away, until i felt the cold touch of metal against my throat. The shock of it made me open my eyes again. I could taste bile in my mouth, but i couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. Was i going to die here? And just be left in the cold damp of the alley to bleed out, and never be found?

“Hey, Shark man, i think you should stop.” Came a voice from beside me.

One of the boys holding onto my wrists was loosening his grip on me. It came to my attention that i could feel him shaking, but i didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Shark.

“The fuck did you say?” The knife lowered slightly.

The boy beside me swallowed, “I-I said i think you should-“

Shark stepped forward suddenly, out of my line of vision, but whatever it was he did to the boy it knocked him to the ground. And he let go of me. And the knife wasn’t at my throat. Without thinking i turned to kick at the one boy still holding me. The kick was un-aimed and clumsy, but somehow it managed to hit the boy between the legs. He too let go of me, and without hesitation i started running away from the group of boys. As i rushed past Shark i felt a sharp pain in my upper arm, but i ignored it and continued running. I could hear shouting behind me, and for a short while there were footsteps following me down the alley, but when i broke free and out into the open i glanced over my shoulder and there was no one to be seen. But i didn’t stop. I ran into the trees that surrounded the area, and kept running and running. I was struggling to breathe but still i pressed on, until i stumbled out of the trees and was greeted by the soft golden sand of the beach. I knew i was safe here, and i fell to my knees as i started gasping for breath. It took me a long while to return my breathing to normal, but once i was sure i wasn’t going to have a heart attack i rolled on to my back. Overhead it looked dreary, there was certainly rain coming. As i started to relax the pain in my arm flared up again, and turning my head to look i saw a patch of blood stained sand by my side. I lifted the sleeve of my shirt to find a long cut along my arm, where the knife must have caught me as i ran past Shark. But instead of going back home to find a bandage i just lay my head back in the sand and let out a content sigh, because at least i hadn’t died in that alley. And somehow for the first time in a long while that felt like a good thing.

Actually do you know who reminds me of Moon? Emilie Autumn, because they have the same dress sense. 

I swear i will write a story on here soon omg.