TW GRAPHIC AND DESPICABLE DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD KNIVES AND VIOLENCE
Dallon packs a few bags, taking all the money he could find, and leaves his old home, leaving Ryan's cold body six feet under in the garden out back. The house stands eerie and chilly. The sight is scary and'll give you goosebumps, almost as if you can sense that something went wrong here.
That house, no less, Utah had no place for the tall man. So he runs, he doesn't know where. He ends up on a greyhound heading to LA. Dallon sits in a haze, generally nothing going on in his brain. The bus takes days, with breaks for food included, to get to LA.
Dallon coughs up the money for a hotel to put his shit down and rest. He looks into the kitchen and sees a set of cooking ware. He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge to see it stocked with alcohol.
When the sun sets and night has begun he decides to grab a drink at a bar across the street.
His eyes look all over, he finally recognizes this city. He, Dan and Brendon would frequent it when they weren't touring, before idkhow and when him and Ryan weren't hanging out. He would hang out due to obligation and or because of Dan. Brendon and the things he would say constantly drove Dallon away from spending his free time with him, unless he had too.
He tiredly walks up to the bar, brushing shoulders harshly with a short guy in a leather jacket. He whips his head up and towards the man, however not yet looking at the man's face.
"The fuck?" the dude mutters, turning to Dallon.
Dallon balls his fists, completely ready to fist fight this dude but finally looks at him.
"Dallon?"
"Brendon." he says with a bit a reservation in his voice.
The empty street provided the perfect awkward silence for them.
"What were you on your way to do Dal? I hav-"
"Please just call me Dallon."
Brendon smiles "No problem, I was saying I haven't seen you in forever. Why're you in town?"
"I was just about to get drinks, and I just needed a break."
"Do you wanna hang?"
Dallon nods "Sure I have a hotel room just over there."
"Perfect dude! Lead the way!"
Dallon walks in front of Brendon, smiling viciously, pure malice running through his head. He vividly remembers the torment Zack and Brendon put him through.
He opens the door to his hotel, smiling and motioning him in.
"There's some drinks in the fridge. Feel free." He locks the door before he walks into the kitchen to get a beer.
"Thanks Dal-Dallon. I've been wanting to talk to you for awhile."
Dallon cracks open the can and sits on one of the beds.
"Why? After all this time, why?"
"Felt sorry."
Dallon gets up under the guise of snacks and discreetly grabs a kitchen knife from the counter, hiding it under the sheets as Brendon walks around the room.
"That's all? You just felt bad?" He laughs and takes a drink.
"That's a mood change you lightweight." Brendon notes, paying no mind to what he actually said.
Dallon rolls his eyes and feels anger bubble in his stomach, Brendon sits down across from his. He notices a shift in his behavior, he's relaxed.
Dallon sets down his drink and wraps his hand around the handle of the knife, clutching it tightly. He jumps towards him, his left forearm forcibly pressed on the others throat, the same hand covering his mouth. Dallon straddles Brendon for optimal control over him. He brandishes the knife as Brendon thrashes and claws at Dallon's arms.
He presses the knife against Brendon's cheek and it makes him freeze but cries escape and he makes light sobbing sounds.
"You want to talk about the destructive, awful, shitty hell you put me through. You want to try to say, I'm sorry," it comes out in a mocking tone, "Years later, you want to talk but not listen." laughs escape him as he drags the knife along his cheek, cutting a bloody scar. Dallon wipes at the fresh wound, taking the blood on his fingers and rubbing his fingers together, swirling the warm life force on his fingers.
Dallon removed his hand from his mouth and places the knife against the others throat.
"Number one, make one noise and I'll fucking kill you. And number two, after all the shit you put me through, you don't get to try to act all pitiful! You just feel bad, you don't regret what you said! What you did!" Dallon's shouts echo through the room.
The fear within Brendon's eyes make a smile grace Dallon's face. For a moment he sees Ryan and the face he made before he killed him. Betrayal, fright and tears. These all made him laugh.
"Dallon I'm really sorry about what I said. I didn't notice it was hurting you." his voice is shaky and uneven.
"You never notice! You never noticed anything! Ever! You always ignored me and when you didn't you were making fun of everything I did! Everything about me!"
"Dallon ple-"
"Now I'm going to make myself impossible to ignore."
Brendon's eyes go wide at this and Dallon raises his hands and stabs him in the stomach, Brendon's blood sprays all over him, marring the pale hotel walls as well.
Dallon slaps a hand over the shorters mouth as he stabs him again and again. Brendon bites down on Dallon's hand trying not to scream in pain. Blood is spewing every where, absolutely delighting Dallon. The stabs wounds bubble with freshly released life force.
When Brendon didn't move any longer, he dropped the knife and stands up, walking towards the end of the bed he takes a good look at himself in the full length mirror. Blood graced every inch of his body, his hair, his pants, his shoes. He feels faint as the whole world goes black and he falls to the floor with a loud bang, his back landing in a pool of blood.
