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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Good Charlotte

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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You Are Mine
By Bextra

 


The worst was over. Or so she thought. She lay in a darkened corner of the room that she had once shared with the man she loved; where that man was now, she would never know.

She huddled against the wall, trying to absorb as much warmth as she could from it. Her clothes were tattered and torn; only a few shreds remained of the dress that he had bought her. He had told her that this would be their special night. He had led her to believe that he would, of all things, propose to her tonight. Her fingers, numb with the cold, wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. No. She wouldn't let him see her show that he had broken her.

She jumped slightly and made a sound of surprise and fright as the bedroom door, which had previously been closed; flew open, and a shadowy figure entered, dragging something heavy behind them. They dropped the object on the floor in front of her, and she shuffled closer to the wall, if it was at all possible. The figure let out a wry chuckle, amused at her pathetic attempts to avoid him.

He walked over to the window and yanked the curtains open violently; allowing a glimmer of moonlight to penetrate the darkness, revealing to her what - or, more specifically, who - was lying on the ground in front of her.

She shrieked loudly, as she saw the body of her best friend; clothes blood soaked and torn, makeup smeared down his cheeks, and his piercings ripped out leaving trickles of blood running down his chin and neck.

“Billy…” she whimpered, extending her shaking hand to touch him; as if loving contact could bring back some of the colour to his deathly pale face.

The figure, who had been watching this scene with a sadistic smile on his face, not even flinching when the sound of her shriek filled the room; stepped forward into the light and let himself be known to her.

She recoiled at the sight of the man she thought had loved her; where there was once a feeling of warmth and love in her body at the sight of his face, there was now a feeling of terror. He reached out his hand, covered in dried blood from the sinful deeds he had committed that night, and caressed her cheek. She grimaced, but didn't pull away, knowing that this would antagonise him further.

He reached up and grabbed her hair, pulling on it so that he was dragging her across the room. She gasped in pain and gripped his hand in both of hers, somehow hoping that it would relieve some of the agony she was feeling. He snarled and batted her hands away with his free one; pulling her up onto the bed and ordering her to stay where she was.

He reached into the pocket of his baggy trousers, pulling out the roll of duct tape he had bought at the DIY store earlier that day. The man who had served him had been so nice; he had no idea that he wasn't going to be using the tape the same way as regular people. Oh no. The man would regret selling him this tape when he turned on the television the next morning and saw exactly what Benji had done with it.

He grinned evilly at the woman on the bed, the woman who he believed had been cheating on him with his best friend and band mate for…well, he didn't know how long. He grabbed her wrist; and used the tape to tie it to the post of their four-poster bed. He went around to the other side of the bed and did the same to the other.

She tried to struggle, to prevent him from taping her to the bed, but he just laughed, and slapped her in the face with the back of his hand. His laugh had changed. It was no longer full of happiness; it didn't light up the room. No. If anything, it made the feeling of dread inside her increase. She could tell that this was the end. She was going to be murdered to the man that she had given her heart and soul to. She bit her bleeding lip to prevent herself from crying out as he hit her once more; before he left the room once again.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged. The body lying on the floor hadn't moved once; she feared that Billy, the nicest, most innocent and friendly person that she had ever encountered in her twenty short years, was dead. She was jerked out of her morbid thoughts by a thud coming from the door. She turned her head as far as she could without causing more pain to the gash on the side of her neck where he had bitten her, to see that he had dumped a large cardboard box on the ground.

He leant down and took out some candles from the box. He placed them randomly around the room, lighting them as he went. Soon the room was partially illuminated with an eerie glow.

She tried to move away from him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked at him with wide eyes, terrified of what he might do.

He raised his hand once again, and she flinched. He ran his thumb along her broken lips, then leant down and kissed them. She whimpered as his piercings stung the cuts. He reached down into the box that he pulled over next to him.

“I have a present for you…” He whispered, pulling up a dirty box. She was unsure what it contained; but as soon as he put his hand into it, the earthy smell of dirt reached her nostrils. “Its just to say…thankyou for fucking around on me behind my back with my best fucking friend.” He snarled, his face contorting into a frightening mask. She looked at him, petrified.

Suddenly, he reached forwards and forcefully held her mouth open, shoving the handful of dirt into it, and also allowing some to block her nostrils. She gagged and coughed, but he did nothing more than take another handful and do the same. She thrashed around, desperately trying to breathe. He waited until some of the life had been drained from her and she lay still, then he brushed away some of the dirt that caked her nose, allowing her to breathe slightly.

“Don't go yet.” He whispered. “You haven't had my second gift. Open your eyes.” She did so, fearfully, and looked directly at him. He looked deeply into her bright blue eyes. “I always loved your eyes.” He mused. “A pity this will be the last time I will look into them.” He reached into his box once more, and pulled out a white bottle. He opened the top, and took a swig of the liquid inside, before pouring it onto her face. She closed her eyes, but it was no use, the liquid managed to seep through her eyelids. She tried but failed to cry out, her mouth was still full of dirt.

He lay down next to her broken and bruised body, and wrapped his arm around her waist, listening to her slowing heartbeat. Not long later, it stopped entirely. The candles were by now burning low, and a few had burnt out entirely. He sat up, and walked over to his cd player, kicking the body of his best friend aside. He pushed the power button, then skipped to number 14. The sadistic smile that was now ever present on his face lit up when he heard the faint screams and scared noises coming from the speakers. He turned the volume up full blast and went to lie down next to his dead girlfriend again. The song started.

<i>Relax... it's over, you belong to me I fill your mouth with dirt

Relax... it's over, you can never leave I take your second digit with me...

Love...

You are... my first, I can barely breathe I find you fascinating

You are... my favourite, lay you down to sleep It's all that I can do to stop...
Love...

So blue... so broken, paper doll decays I haven't left you yet

So cold... subversive, your eyes are full of bleach

Tomorrow, I will go away again...
Love...

YOU ARE MINE, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE
I CAN TEAR YOU APART
I CAN RECOMBINE YOU
ALL I WANT IS TO COVET YOU ALL
YOU BELONG TO ME
I WILL KILL YOU TO LOVE YOU.</i>

As the finishing sequence ended, he laughed along with Corey Taylor at the sounds of terror coming from the speakers. He took out the revolver from his pocket, took it off the safety, and held it to his temple.

“I loved you. I told you that you would always be mine, and now I've proved it to you.” He spat at the lifeless body, before squeezing the trigger, the shot resonating through the now completely silent apartment.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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