Whenever something huge changed in books, movies, and television shows, nobody ever expected it. In dystopian settings or natural disasters, nobody knows that their lives are going to change drastically.
Following the Netflix series 'The Society'...
Dedicated to 'Good Will Hunting' of which, has inspired this chapter. I also made the gif above, which I think is telling of things to come.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Tess narrowed her eyes at Campbell's retreating form, his arms outstretched like a maniacal ring leader, inviting his band of misfits into the fray. Throngs of teens passed between the space between them, like a mirage, pointing towards the band of forest with shrieks of alarm and bewilderment. But her stare was unwavering; as was his. He was mocking her; his mouth beginning to lift in a maddening smirk, a smile that was half sardonic and half secretive, as if the fate of the world depended on the answer to a riddle only he knew and would never share. The type to have a vast arsenal of smirks, shaped over a decade of nonverbal conversation. The epitome of evil.
However, to him, she was the evil one; the antagonist to his life story. The reason he sought her out – to feel, to find someone who already bore scars that he could easily penetrate. To consume. An addictive drug, which he would keep abusing to feel an exhilarating rush. An empty vessel, which he could fill with despair and sin. Although, they had only been parted for a few days, he missed the feeling of her skin; the feeling of her body reacting underneath his fingertips; the tantalizing aroma of her natural scent. He needed to find a replacement and he already sought her out: blonde hair, petite frame, innocence. His pupils magnetised towards the frame of his next victim. Alone, she was standing on the edge of the bridge, her gaze staring hauntingly along the horizon, arms crossed tautly around her waist. Feeling the intensity of his gaze, her head turned, their pupils meeting for but a moment, before her eyes dropped to the pavement. He smirked.
Watching the interaction, Tess stepped forward, her form imposing on his lustful thoughts.
"Leave her alone, Campbell,"
Once again, she was enveloped in his scent, as he stepped towards her, his head dropped purposefully to fill the space above her collarbone. His breath chilling the skin, causing an eruption of small bumps to litter her skin. His hand rose upward so he could lift a lock of her hair between his fingers, watching the strand snake through the empty spaces entranced.
"Life will break you," he began, his voice airily light, hiding the malicious intent, "nobody can protect you from that. I could," he looked at her, his eyes latched onto every feature of her face, nodding once, before his eyes once again latched fixatedly onto the strand of hair, which he was rubbing through his fingers, fraying the delicate hairs.
"I could have," he nodded again, convincing himself, "solitude will break you. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth; you need to be loved by someone to feel worth. You are here to risk your heart," his frame moulded closer to her body. His head dipped towards the bottom of her neck, where he inhaled deeply, his body stilling for a couple of seconds, before he sniffed and stepped away. The lone strand dropping lifelessly onto her shoulder. "You are her to be swallowed up. And when it happens, when you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, you will come back to me."
