~' GuestTerror '~

'Fangss without venom'

"YOu EVer WOnDer hOW I gOt thESe, SSSL1TheR?"

He shifts uncomfortably, staring at the same cuts from earlier as he's led back to his seat. "sO, I WaS THinkING.. we COUlD mATcH." Selver slides a wooden box towards him, said box being engraved with dark blood splatters. "iT's jUSt sOMEtHing SMalL, BuT I thOUgHT it cOUld bRINg us CLOSer."

I don't like where thiss iss going.

"JuST OPEn thE bOX." It pushes the box closer to him, clicking open the lock to make it easier to open. "JusT PUlL iT opEn, SNakEY." Selver taps on the box expectantly. His hand hovers over the lid, rattler scraping against the floor and shooting into it like a bullet.

Selver stares through him, tapping his claws on the table. "CoME oN snAkEY, sCAReD? AfrAID of A LIttlE BOx? Do YOu THinK THAt somETHing'S gONnA jUmP at YoU?" It giggles out, tracing out circles on the box's lid. "ThERE's noThinG THat'S alIVe iN thEre, SNAke." Selver reaches out and grabs his arm, its skin cold against his, and gently places his hand on the box.

He gulps hard, the box feels damp under his palm. "I- I don't know if I w-wanna do thiss-"

"OpEN It!" It shrieks. "OpEN. THe. BOX." The table rattles as it slams a hand down beside the box.

He jolts up, fingers fumbling with the rusted lock. He sighs, breath coming out in shaky gasps. The lock is already undone, but it takes him time to even get a grip on it. The lid creaks as he pushes it open, like slicing through something hard and peeling it away.

Inside-
A razor blade. Small, slightly rusted, and stained with old blood. "Why did you have me open thiss. You could've done it yoursself." Selvers face splits into a grin, not a good kind. Never a good kind when it comess to them.

It leans forward, slowly grabbing the razor. "NoTHinG brInGS twO brOThERs closER tHAn shARiNg ThE SAMe scARs, DOeS iT? wE CoULd maTCH. PerFEcT twINs." It's voice cracks into giggles, waving the blade in his face.

"..Th-Thiss iss fucked up, dude. I- YOU'RE fucked up." He winces, flinching back when the blade gets too close to him for comfort. His eyes fix on the blade. It's nothing special. Old stains glisten in the flickering light, dried blood crusting the edges of the razor. There's no need to ask whose blood it is.

"YOu sAy tHat, yET, YOu stAY To sEE whAT hApPENs neXt." He huffs, taking great offense to what was said earlier. "YoU HaVen'T goTTEn uP to LEAve YeT." It jabs a claw at his chest. "OnLY saY sOMethiNG WHeN yOu MEan iT." Selver lays the blade down in front of him, taping its fingers on the table.

"i'M WaiTiNG."

He gulps, grabbing the razor blade and pressing the cold metal up against his arm. The cold bites into his skin without piercing into it. The room is filled with the loud ring of his rattle and heavy breathing. "Sselver- I don't- I don't want to do thiss-"

Selvers face leans into a pout. "CoME on bUDdY, Do YOu eVEn liKe ME?" It gets up, walking around the table and kneeling behind him. "I thOUgHt yOU wAntED tO dO tHiS."
He shivers, pressing the razor harder into his skin. A red bead seeps out from under it, stinging his arm.

"THAts iT. KEeP goING, I'll wATcH." It scoots and sits right beside him, watching the blood leak out of his arm he drags the razor over. "ATtAbOy" Selver would holler out, patting his back. "HaCK at iT A fEW mOrE TIMEs, I'lL hoLd My ARm oUT"
Selver holds its arm out,  Listening to the sound of his sobs and winces.