Mr Sykes
autumnheat_
- Reads 1,257
- Votes 67
- Parts 38
His face mottled crimson, his eyes popped, his tree trunk neck strained. His words were spat out with the ferocity and rapidity of machine gun fire towards Mr Sykes. Without wiping the spit from his ashen face he leant closer, perfectly composed and uttered just three words, "I don't care."
His fuse simmered and fizzed like a firework in a chill autumn breeze, then he exploded with unrestrained fury. He remained as still as a cadaver and just as pallid, unblinking against his onslaught. Then with a barely concealed smirk he turned on her heels and walked away as if strolling in the park on a fine day.
"Is he always like this?" I asked.
" He plunged out the knife they struck behind his back and pierced it deep into their hearts, ripping it out in the process. So yes, he's always like this. " Dwayne replied.
The guy was perfection in coffee hues; his hair were the colour of dark roasted beans,which was thick and lustrous.but his skin was all latte.His eyes were mesmerising deep black forest green, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout.
Beneath all that charm and personality, he holds affliction. An affliction couldn't help but imagine himself just like those clouds, his insides were in a chaos. A mess. Everything was bothering him. Everything was hurting him. Everything ached inside him. Everything felt so wrong, so invalid. He tried to pinpoint the cause for this unexplained pain but failed. He tried to reason this unbearable burning but didn't find any. Everything felt so confused, just like a jumbled set of a puzzle.
A puzzle that was yet to be figured out.