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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 31 2013, 03:55 AM (110 Views) | |
| Brytain Rollins | Mar 31 2013, 03:55 AM Post #1 |
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Rising Star
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you can run on for a long time, but sooner or later god'll cut you down There a definite line in the sand. One she had never even wanted to cross. But tonight, she wasn't just going to toe the line, she was going to wipe it away and all but run over it. Sitting in the rental, her hands were clenched around the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She had to hand it to the asshole. Davie had finally found her "trigger". For over a month he'd been trying desperately to worm his way inside of her head and tonight, he finally had. Earlier that night, he'd shown up on her twitter feed... and he'd painstakingly run through a list of all those nearest and dearest to her. He'd told her that as soon as she was out of the way, he would be coming for them. Picking them off one by one. He'd threatened the family that she had built around her when the one she had been given at birth had failed her. He'd even gone so far as to make a thinly veiled threat towards her new goddaughter, Lily. Inside, she was a mess of anger and frayed nerves and a desperate need to get her hands on him. To draw blood. It had worked, momentarily, and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she was steel reeling from that. He'd convinced her that the best thing she could hope for was maybe succeeding in destroying him while she destroyed herself. Glancing to her right out of the corner of her eye, she took in her stoic companion. He hadn't really spoken to her since they'd gotten in the car and she had to admit that she was still reeling from the conversation they'd had earlier too. She'd had to look into his bright green eyes and admit that she was going to break the promise she'd made to come back to him after the match. Brytain's head had been a tangle of emotion and self-loathing and fear. Davie's threats to pick off the people she loved one by one had woken up something inside of her though. Once she'd finished working him out of her head, the anger had set in. And with the anger, the kind of retaliation that she never thought she'd be capable of. Glancing at her own blue eyes in the rear view mirror, she wondered briefly who she was becoming. As though he could sense her nervousness, he reached over and pried one of her hands from the steering wheel. Lacing his fingers with hers, he absentmindedly rubbed circles over her knuckles with his thumb. It gave her some measure of peace, but not enough. Her stomach was still in knots, her heart still beating too fast. The silent drive lasted for almost half an hour when she finally saw the familiar looking house. Davie had threatened her makeshift family. He'd fought his way into her head, hitting every button she had on the way in. Now, it was her turn to show him what she was capable of. There was only one person in the world that she could ever remember Davie caring about, being willing to do anything for. Only one person that Davie was absolutely enamored with. His mother. Davie's mother, she had remembered, lived on the outskirts of Raleigh. She remembered offering suggestions when she and Davie had first started dating almost three years ago. She was gratified to see that the familiar looking house at the end of the dead end street said "Bennington" on the mail box. Even more grateful that his mother had never remarried. She was the one person that Davie respected. Made sense, considering that as far as Brytain could tell, Davie and his mother were cut from the same cloth. "We're here," she said, cutting the lights before she carefully guided the car into the driveway. She cut the engine about halfway up, let the car coast to a stop closer to the house and just inside of a copse of pine trees. She pulled the black hood on her sweatshirt over her most identifying feature, her pink hair. Although the neighbors down this way were few and far in between, she didn't want to chance it. Kneeling at the front door, Brytain quietly tried the knob. Sometimes, people this far out in the country didn't bother to lock their doors. Unfortunately for her, Anne Bennington was not one of those people. Cursing quietly under her breath, Brytain pulled her credit card out of her pocket and struggled to the pick the lock. She hadn't exactly grown up on the streets of Southie and this kind of thing wasn't second nature to her. Finally, after fifteen frustrating minutes, she was finally rewarded with the sound of the bolts grinding together and the door popped open easily for her. "Here," Brytain said, handing Syn her iPhone and pushing the record button. "Make sure you get all of this." xxx "Davieeeeeeeeeee," Brytain sing songed. "Come out and play." She smiled maliciously at the camera, and nodded her head to her left so that Syn would pan down to Anne Bennington's face. Brytain had sat her in one of the kitchen chairs, not bothering to tie her down because she had a feeling that the bowie knife she'd borrowed from her boyfriend would probably keep her very still. She had, however, used an old dish towel to gag the woman because she'd spent several minutes trying to scream for help and calling Brytain every name under the sun. "After all this time," she said, slowly, "You finally found my breaking point, I guess." She absently twirled the knife between her fingers. "You've spent over two months trying to find ways to push me, to break me. But it hasn't worked. And tonight, you finally did. You threatened the people that I love and that? That got to me. Just not in the way you were hoping, I don't think. See, I've decided that I should show you just how easy it would be to swoop down on the only person in this world that you care about. See, if you go after the people I love, Davie.. I will go after the people YOU love." Brytain shifted uncomfortable, still eying the camera and holding the knife awkwardly in front of her. That... was about as far ahead as she'd planned this. Standing around menacingly with the knife, videotaping herself inside of Davie's mother's home. Riling him up a little bit. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to go next. She glanced back at the camera, only to meet Syn's bright green eyes. He stared at her for a moment and then softly whispered, "Rough up the missus, but not too much." She gave a small nod and then focused her attention back on the camera. The show was for Davie, after all. She let her face slide into a malicious smile before she turned back to Anne. "Let me tell you about your son, Anne," she said, "It's his fault that I'm here... see, if he hadn't threatened my family... I wouldn't have had to threaten his. You can thank him next time you see him." Her hand balled into a fist but she remembered the "not too much" and with some effort, unclenched her fist and backhanded the woman instead. Anne reeled back in the chair and Brytain cast a grin over her shoulder at the camera. She had to admit, there was a thrill in this that she didn't think would be present. She was positive that she would be filled with self-loathing as soon as the anger and adrenaline wore off... but for now she couldn't deny that she didn't hate what she was doing. "Poor Anne. You were stuck with Davie when Derek died weren't you. You never loved him like you did Derek, did you. Admit it." She was a little startled by the words coming out of her mouth but then, she was feeding into all of the anger that bottled up for the last year. She ripped the tea cloth out of Anne's mouth and pointed her head at the camera in a vice grip. "Tell your son that you never loved him. Not as much as you loved you loved his brother," she commanded. When the woman refused, Brytain struck her again. "Say it," she hissed between clenched teeth. She knew there would be nothing else that would get into Davie's head the way he had been psychologically battering her for the last two months. Nothing would wreck his already fragile psyche like hearing his mother tell him that Derek was the son she wished was still alive. Brytain pulled her hand back again when she heard a soft sound behind her. "Britain, I think you've proved your point... although the violence is respectable." Letting her hand drop, Brytain turned to cast him a look over her shoulder. He was wearing a grim smile on his face and she mimicked it back to him before she turned back to Anne. Leaning in close to Anne, she growled, "I said, say it." Anne glared up at Brytain and spat at her. "I thought you were a nasty little whore when you were dating my son and now I know you are. He was always too good for you." Brytain was seething when her hand shot out, snatching Syn's bowie knife from where she'd placed it on the table. Shifting it to her dominant hand, she grabbed Anne by the hair and jerked her head back. And then she froze. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to go from there. She wasn't sure she even wanted to go any further. Davie had pushed her to the point of desperation and here she was, with a knife in her hand. "Place the knife at a slight angle underneath her throat, and make sure the blade is pressed directly against the carotid artery enough to draw blood... but not deep enough to kill," she heard Syn's soft voice instruct from behind her. She did as he'd instructed and was rewarded with a thin trickle of blood that snaked down the woman's throat. Leaning in close to her ear, Brytain whispered, "I'm very new at this... if you couldn't tell. I've never held a knife to someone's throat before. I have no idea how much pressure to use and there is a very good chance that I may slip or get a little heavy handed and... well... I'm almost positive that my boyfriend could make sure no one ever finds my... little mistake. So you'd better just say what I told you to fucking say so that I can give the knife back to the expert." Anne's eyes were wide with panic when Brytain pulled back and with a rushed exhale, she looked into the blinking red light of the iphone's camera. "I wish..." she choked out, "...that Derek were still alive. And not you, David. You've been a worthless son to me. You're pathetic." Brytain smiled and nodded her head slightly to Syn, who shut off the camera and slid her phone into his pocket for safe keeping. With shaking hands, Brytain pulled the knife away from the woman's throat and calmly walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a paper towel and wipe the blade clean. She was almost positive that the calm she was feeling now was an unnatural one and that at some point, she would have to hash through her feelings on the things she had done that night. "I wasn't here," she said, in an almost conversational tone. "Better come up with a good story about that nasty cut on your neck, Anne. I don't want to have to come back." Taking a deep breath, and schooling her features into a calm mask, she turned back around and handed Syn the knife before she practically made a beeline for the door. She was torn between throwing up and feeling giddy. Her emotions were all over the place. All she knew was that it was done and as soon as that video made it to Davie's phone she would be evening the playing field. Edited by Brytain Rollins, Mar 31 2013, 04:07 AM.
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10:48 AM Jul 11