Requiem for the peace of mind-- *Graphic*

[Emlen Slane]

((Something I wrote to get myself out of the writer's block funk. Lots of blood and gore.))

The air was like the last gulp of warm soda at the bottom of the can?thick, gritty, and diluted. Was this a dream? It couldn?t be? Emlen couldn?t remember the last time he?d gone to sleep. The last time he?d done more than just lay next to Minoko, providing body heat like an overrated furnace?eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Of course, he?d close them and pretend to wake up the moment she stirred. Had he fooled her, though? The dark circles beneath his eyes were growing more predominant by what seemed like each passing hour of sleeplessness, worry, and pain. Not to mention the clumsiness?how many of their dishes had he broken by something as simple as a lost grip? She knew. She had to know?

On this day, Minoko was nowhere to be found. He?d gotten a strange series of calls and hang-ups from his sister. The spare key was pulled out of his pocket as he worked through the foggy air that seemed to fill the hallway. The key was turned into the lock, and he took one more look around. Had it always been so dark and eerie? Martyr?s home had always been a beacon of happiness, a place of comfort. So why was it not settling in his belly? How come everything felt wrong?

Emlen knew the answer to that. Nothing felt right anymore?

The door was pressed open, and he took a look around. Immediately, be it the coppery smell that plagued the place, or the bloodstains on the carpet, he knew something had gone horribly wrong in here. First, he moved to the kitchen. Phoenix was there, in some form. Wide eyes were staring up, but seeing nothing. She was gone. The blackness in her veins, lining her face, wrists, and neck told the story. She had been poisoned. Nothing was left of her, except for a cold corpse left on the floor with a knife plunged into her heart. Who would have thought? The last defense would be the first dead. Emlen didn?t rush to her side, didn?t cry?didn?t feel remotely human. (Not that he was.) He?d never felt so empty inside.

[Emlen Slane]

The house was a story waiting to tell itself?and he?d finished Phoenix?s chapter. As he turned back to the living room, he saw two little eyes peeking out from the table. Spinning violet irises stared up at him. They were not his sister?s, but his niece?s. Vice was nothing more than a doll in her arms. Not a baby, not a corpse, but a plastic-faced, clothed bodied object being clutched to the child?s chest. ?They?re all dead, you know?? Max mumbled from her hiding spot.  ?All dead.?

It had been like the house sucked the life and emotion from everyone that stepped foot in it. Emlen moved past her, and stepped into the hallway. The carpet felt soggy at his feet, and he looked down, watching the blood press up around his feet as he rolled from the tip of his toe to the ball of his heel. He continued for a moment, almost admiring the sickening flood of vital rising and sinking beneath his weight and mercy. Then, he moved on, stepping into Pilot?s room.

The smell of burnt flesh hit his nostrils, and he took a step back out, thankful for the metallic air that had filled the hallway. A deep breath was taken, and he peeked his head back in. There was blood splatter on small portion of the walls that weren?t scorched, and in the middle of the room, lay two piles of ash shaped like corpses. Emlen?s eyes rolled around the room and he turned his back on it soon after. Nothing he could do for the mystery corpses either? The door was shut behind him and he proceeded down the hallway.

It became clear to him, that the further he went into the house, the more lost his sanity became to him?and humanity had become a distant memory. Emlen moved to the bathroom, the sound of running water beckoning him. He stepped right into a puddle and stared at the water spilling over the tub?s edge. Orchid was in there, her arms freely moving with the motions of the stream-beaten water. Her hair was lashing out every which way, moving in front of those closed, pathetic eyes that sat on her innocent, childlike face. As he moved closer, he examined the two left over, and futile bubbles that seemed to cling on the insides of her nostrils. She was gone and it wasn?t the lack of fight in her that gave it away?but the blueness to her lips, toes and fingertips.

[Emlen Slane]

The door, which had crept closed behind him, had been pulled open. Max was standing there, looking up at him with furious, spinning eyes. There was blood on her cheek, and her hair clung to it, trying up  inside of the crystalized red venom. ?I told you,? she started. ?I told you they?re all dead. You need to leave now? You can?t go any further.?

Emlen moved past her, laying a hand on her shoulder. That?s when she screamed, and it had been less of a scream, and more of an ear-shattering force. He turned, and watched her, writhing in pain, squealing out, and falling to her knees as her body chipped away to dust. Wide eyes stared over her, the marble eyed doll stared up at him, and he took a step back, hitting the wall.  One more room?that?s all he had left to explore. His sister?s? That?s all.

Turning towards it?he watched the hallway stretch out like he was in some horror film. He pressed on, and after what seemed like decades, he reached the awful door. The knob was twisted, and yanked open. Immediately, his eyes found Martyr. Black veined and wide-eyed just like Phoenix was. Except she wasn?t dead yet?but he knew there was no hope. Blood stained teeth grinded together?and he felt as if he could hear them screeching against one another. The culprit was a jagged tear across her throat from a serrated blade. Blood was still flowing like the faucet that Orchid had died in, bubbling out of the open wound and rippling flesh within its wake. Her fingernails scraped against the floor, breaking off and becoming bleeding little nubs on her fingertips. Lips smacked together, blood spurting up from them, as she mouthed the word ?help? over, and over.

Emlen suddenly felt a presence behind him, and he turned. It was Minoko?a green eyed Minoko. He blinked, and she changed. Now before him, and a step closer, was Novia, with a gaping hole through her body, her innards spilling out onto the floor, as a smile crept across her expression. ?I did this,? she admitted.

He could feel his eyes burning and twitching, watering and hurting as he fought not to blink, as he avoided the inevitable. Then his eyelids kissed their bottom counterparts, and those blue eyes resurfaced. Now it was Myles, standing before him, another step closer to him. Her belly was clean of wounds, but her head was dirty with senseless murders and betrayal. ?For us,? she whispered in a hiss.

On the next blink, it was the faux Minoko once more. Emlen took in a breath and held it, for now she was right in front of him. ?I can?t stay in this world? So I?m taking you with me.? With that, shadows snapped around his neck and lifted him off the floor. His feet dangled, and he kicked. ?Don?t fight it, Emlen. This is how it?s supposed to be??

[Emlen Slane]

Blue eyes shot open, and he jumped up from the arm chair. His hands went to his neck, and he clawed at it for a moment, gasping for air and coughing. He turned around, to see the still, sunny room that he had been sitting in. He?d fallen asleep? The quickly-fading pain in his neck, had told him he?d dozed off sitting up. How long had he been out for? The phone that had hit the floor in his quick moving stir had been snatched up, and he looked at it with cloudy eyes, a soft low grunt escaping his scruff-dusted mouth. There was no fancy lock mechanism, no password?because he was loyal. Hell, even if he wasn?t? What was Minoko going to do? Read his texts?

The last message sent, was to Martyr. ?Yeah, ok. Talk to you later then. Love you,? was her response. He couldn't even fake a smile for that, so he instead, looked at the time he had sent his message. 3:17PM. Emlen?s eyes crept up the screen to that perfect little time-teller in the corner. It was 3:42PM? He?d been out for less than a half hour, and dreamed every bit of that. How was that even possible? Emlen rubbed at his eyes and sighed softly. Nothing was impossible here. ?Minoko?? he called out, but knew she wasn?t home. She was working, or b*tching to Phoenix about him, or eating koi with Phoenix. Who knew with that girl?

Emlen?s shirt was pulled over his head, and dropped to the floor. His pants were the next to go, leaving him moving toward the shower in those infamous heart-printed boxers. A shower would do him some good. It had to. Maybe he could build something. Maybe Martyr had managed to break something?? No, he?d fixed up the homes of nearly everyone he knew. There was simply nothing left to fix, except for the one thing he couldn't.