Damon, when he was 11, watched something that changed his life forever. And after "being in" jail for years he gets offered a job at the BAU. But something was always off about Damon. No one knew what.
Maybe it was his hair
Or his clothes
Or the fa...
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chapter fourteen Too Far?
Maybe Damon had gone to far that night, but what could he say, he was board. Grabbing the gas can that he gotten from the shed out back and one of those eye droppers. Tying the victim or hit, down to the bed then peeling the eye lids back.
"Please don't hurt me" the man begged Damon. "I'm not gonna hurt you-" the flash of hope in the man's eyes made Damon smile. "I'm gonna make you suffer" He smiled then it dropped as he gently squeezed the Kerosene into the man's eyes making him yell out in pain. "черт возьми, ты громкий" Damon groaned as he shoved a cloth into the man's mouth.
Translation: "Damn your loud"
Damon's rough fingers slid his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and pulled out his lighter, making the man's already burning eyes open wide. "N-n-no! P-pease-pleaniot-" the man's words were muffled and distorted by the cloth. Damon then held the man's eyes open and brought the flame to his eyes. Muffled screams filled Damon's ears as the man's eyes burned well he was still alive.
Damon stood up, lighting a cigarette, the smell of burning retina filling his nose. Damon sighed and walked out of the room, bring the can of gasoline.
When Damon got home that night after the case, he was exhausted and wanted his own bed. Opening the door to his apartment, he closed it behind him and walked in. "You look like shit" the all too familiar voice of Ryan Milkovich, filled Damon's ears. "What the fuck do you want?" Damon groaned, running a hand over his stubble. "You forgot this, in your mailbox" Ryan said as he stood up and handed the orange package to Damon. "Like I said, I want books next" Damon said as he took the gun out of the package and slid the gun into the back of his jeans.
"And like I said, done." Ryan sighed before leaving, closing the door behind him. Damon locked the door then walked to his bedroom and put the gun into his side table.
"I don't want this" Damon whispered as he slammed the drawer shut. Damon put a hand to the side of his head as a headache set in. "Damon, honey, you know, you could stop this all" a female voicefilled his screaming ears. "Fuck off!" Damon yelled.
Damon rubbed his face as he closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "What the fuck is happening to me?" He whispered to himself. "You're going crazy Damon" Damon looked up to see Minho leaning against the far wall. "Your mind is somewhere else, but of course Ryan knew that. That's why you're such a good killer" Minho continued to say as Damon looked at him. "Honey, don't listen to him" Damon turned around to see his mother, sitting all nice and proper on his bed. "He's right man, you got some screws loose", "Jordan?" Damon asked as he watched his old friend walk into the bedroom.
