Story Excerpts

Ashe, excerpt 1

CW - mild homophobia, bullying
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"Oh my God, are you wearing a SKIRT?" Raucous laughter exploded from the boy on the bike, making Ashe's blood boil. "What are you, gay?"
"So what if I am! Being gay is ok! Besides, I just thought it was cute. I can wear whatever I want!" Ashe snapped his protests, hands curling into fists.

(You should throw something at him. Lots of rocks around big enough to throw him off that stupid bike.)

No, throwing things was bad. Mom and dad had made that very clear. He didn't want them to be upset with him, so Ashe shook the thought from his head and turned away to keep walking back home.
"Yeah, keep walking you psychotic freak!" The brat shouted at him. It wasn't the first time the nickname was hurled at him, but just like every time, it brought him into a state of fury so intense it felt almost blinding. Immediately, Ashe broke into a sprint, up the hill and around the bend, jumping up the steps and into his house.
"Hi mommy, hi daddy!" He called out to his parents to let them know he had come home, and once they had called back with warm greetings, he scooted up the stairs and into his bedroom, the curtain in his doorway fluttering.

(You know what you have to do, Asheton. Emmitt cannot get away with this.)

Ashe was already picturing a thousand painful deaths for the boy. There was only so much he could get away with, so it had to be good. It also couldn't be anything off the list, because then they'll know immediately he wanted to kill Emmitt.

Poison?
No. Even if he had money to buy some, he never got close enough to anything Emmitt would eat or drink to poison.
Keep it simple and impale him.
That's too obvious. Plus, he would get blood on my hands, and mommy just took him to get his nails done. He didn't have great aim either, so long distance was off the list too.

"Hey kiddo, dinner in ten." Ashe was drawn from his thoughts by his father, head stuck through the curtain that served as his bedroom door.
He gave the man a warm smile. "Thanks daddy!" He chimed back cheerfully.
His father seemed satisfied by the response, and left again.

(Bait.)

Ashe looked around his room, thrown off by the voice, and said in confusion, "What?"

(Emmitt loves his bike. He keeps it in the garage at night, so when he's got it out there's very little time he isn't on it. Put some animal bait under his bike seat, to attract animals. If you're lucky, you'll get a big cat, but a deer would work too, with the antlers.)

As Ashe headed to the bathroom, he couldn't help but smile at the notion. Emmitt wasn't ever going to bash him again.

...

It was surprisingly easy for Ashe to get his hands on bait. His father had some in the garage, where Ashe wasn't allowed, but he supposed that this was a special case.
And from there, actually getting the bait onto Emmitt's bike was also fairly simple. Ashe just had to wait for him to run into his house to open the garage, and tuck a hefty amount of bait under the lip of his bike seat, then make a run for it when the garage door started opening. There was almost no difficulty in the whole process. Now, it was just a matter of time.

...

The next morning, sunrise was shattered by the sounds of snapping metal, followed by screams and shrieks of pure agony. It woke Ashe immediately, despite being earlier than his set schedule, and he flew out of bed, sticking his face to his Plexiglass bedroom window.
There it was! His plan was working! Emmit had crashed his bike into a tree in the park across the street, and even from a distance the scene was red with blood. It looked like the bait had attracted a fox, or a raccoon.
Each fresh wave of screams was music to the boy's ears, adrenaline coursing through him, making his fingers tingle. He placed a palm against the window, wanting to reach through the material and feel the blood on his skin, between his fingers, under his nails, some hunger deep inside him coming alive...

But then it ended. Then, a young man sprinted across the street, shooting the animal with a pellet gun from a distance. The creature - a raccoon, soaked in fresh blood - recoiled and scurried away as the man rushed to help the injured boy, tangled hopelessly in his ruined bike. Someone must have called 911, because ambulance sirens were fast approaching.

(Don't worry, young one. There's a lot of blood down there, he'll probably be dead before he gets to the hospital. If not... well, we can deal with that.)

"I thought you said it would work." The words left his lips in a rough growl, a strange sound to come from the mouth of such a cute little boy. "You told me it would work!" He hit the plexiglass, getting worked up faster than he ever had before. Why wasn't Emmit dead, the doctors here were amazing, there was no way he'd die now! Maybe if he had used more bait, or followed Emmitt and rigged his bike farther from home-

A sharp, piercing sound came out of nowhere, making his head jerk to the side with a soft yelp.

(Enough, Ashe. It'll be okay. Nobody saw anything, this was simply an accident, remember? If we have to, we can try again later.)

"What if Emmitt tells on me?" Ashe pouted, stalking back to his bed. "This counts as bad, right?"

(Emmitt didn't see. Calm your mind, my child. I'm going to help you learn, no need to fret. Baby steps.)

Baby steps. He could take baby steps.
For now, though, it was time for breakfast.

Image: Appearance reference for Ashe, with one changed detail. Ashe doesn't wear anything around his neck