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**WARNING: if you aren't into hardcore shit. Don't read. There is blood- there is violence- there is kinky shit involving all of that. Seriously, don't read if you are going to bitch about how "BAD" it is. Serious Trigger warning**
🔪🔪🔪
The urges always came.
They burned me from the inside out. Each time flaming my inside to the point where I was forced to act on them. I couldn't control myself. I couldn't stop myself.
I was pacing my room wanting the ticks in my head to stop. Kidnap. Hurt. Pain. It all scorched my brain until I was ripping my keys off of my perfectly made bed. Corners tucked. Before flipping my light-switch six times and then closing the door five times. I took strong even steps to the door and opened and closed it five times until my ticks were satisfied. I ran down the stairs taking two at a time as my tick- this tick I couldn't control swallowed me.
I ran down into my van slamming the door open and turning my key in the ignition two times before finally starting it. I took two even breaths and then started to search for my prey. I hated this tick. I hated this side but I needed it. I needed to be filled and take control.
I was searching the streets my sight black and white knowing I would see my color flash when I saw my new prey. I would see the red. I would see him. My forehead was slick with sweat, my palms sliding around the wheel, and my pants were growing tight. This tick would stay quiet for weeks sometimes months before I felt the urge. The urge to hurt and scare.
"One. Two. Three," I panted feeling my eye twitch before slamming on my breaks when my phone began to ring. I would usually ignore it due to my tick needing to be satisfied but the ringtone was my best friend. The only blue in my life. Every person was a color and usually people were green but he was blue.
"Garett," I hissed feeling my brain boil. "Garett." I repeated again not being able to stop myself. It was another one of my ticks.
Repeat twice.
"Huntington, hey!" He cheered in his usual baritone voice. "I'm fucking trashed buddy can you come pick me up?"
Tick.
Tick. Tick.
"I'm busy," I began. "I'm busy." The tick was gnawing at me but my hands were turning the wheel to where I knew the bars where. Garett was my best friend and possibly the only man I had ever had a crush on—he was the only one to understand my ticks. He didn't judge me... he would if he knew about my secret tick but I had kept that hidden well. Hurting people was something no one should know I did. I usually found a person and kept them around until the tick was gone and then would pay them off to leave. It would always come back though.
Garett was his own tick.
I had to be around Garett at least three times a week. I had to hug him twice when I saw him. No more. No less. I had to blink four times when greeting him and two when saying goodbye. Each tick was specially his. I knew I had feelings for him because of this but I couldn't risk hurting him.
