10-12-2013, 09:04 PM
The recent rains made the grass grow thick, and the recent cold snap made it die. So, there was a plush carpet of death in the backyard that Jared was mowing for the last time this year, thank God.
Ruby would be home soon, or maybe she's already home. Probably not, though. She was always late, sometimes two or three hours, working on cases that wouldn't go anywhere. Resentment hurt. She pushed him away with silence, the dreadfulness of her. What he once found so goddamn sexy -- lithe muscles stalking him in bed, the mystery of Ruby -- now dead as this grass. She crawls into bed after he does anymore. No more stalking. No more fights even, which is almost just as bad. There's just nothing, not even hate.
They need to have a talk. One that's taken too long. But there is this house, and this grass, and this life as well. Parts of that he doesn't want to give up. It was easier to procrastinate, to stave off the breaking for another day. To hope that something changed without words.
He'd just turned a corner when he spotted her walking toward him. He shut the mower off, letting its noise spin off to silence before greeting her with a, "Hey babe, what's wrong?" She looked shaken, hard-eyed. Maybe they found something today that she needed to unload onto him.
"Let me read you a few things," she said, voice flat. Damn she could be threatening sometimes. "Amanda, you r so cute. Smiley face. How about Thurs? I am free then. Winking face. I heart you."
They were his IMs to Amanda, spoken in her droll monotone, the light-hearted nature of the text transformed into devastation. Shit. "I... I... I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. In this space, in this time, it all fell apart. Maybe... maybe now, they can talk. Maybe he can fix this.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, trembling in her voice, that low echoing drawling voice. He dropped his head, incapable of answering. There were ashes in his mouth. He couldn't speak if he wanted to.
"You bastard. I'm going to kill..." she started to say, but the sentence slurred, her voice going down down deeper and harsher, and he looked up just as she gurgled out a nonsensical cry.
And what he saw then, he couldn't move if he wanted to. The ashes in his mouth kept him from screaming. It didn't stop her. There was pure terror in her eyes, just as they winked out, replaced by something else. She wasn't human anymore. The words "Oh my God" croaked out of his ashen throat just as she entered him with claws and teeth.
Ruby... Ruby....
--------------------------------
It didn't take him long to die, which is some very small comfort. It's strange what you think about when holding your torn fiancee in your lap, sobbing. Some tiny part of her brain still thought rational thoughts though most of it had gone off somewhere else pretending this hadn't happened. Must be survival instinct, said that rational, cold piece of her that she wished would go fuck off. Now is not the time.
He's gone. He's gone. It repeated in her mind like a mantra that she couldn't make herself believe. He dripped in her mouth, red like her name. He poured on her hands, and will be there forever. She did this, that sensible thing said to her. She did this. And then there was a new mantra.
"What... what... oh my God, that's me... Oh my God," said someone behind her, and she nearly jumped to counter the threat. She saw nothing but the dead grass, brown stained with Jared. "You did this to me," the cold air said to her, and sense finally, mercifully left.
A wild, horrible scream (the kind that wails and wavers) filled the air, and mixed with the howl of police sirens in the distance.
Ruby would be home soon, or maybe she's already home. Probably not, though. She was always late, sometimes two or three hours, working on cases that wouldn't go anywhere. Resentment hurt. She pushed him away with silence, the dreadfulness of her. What he once found so goddamn sexy -- lithe muscles stalking him in bed, the mystery of Ruby -- now dead as this grass. She crawls into bed after he does anymore. No more stalking. No more fights even, which is almost just as bad. There's just nothing, not even hate.
They need to have a talk. One that's taken too long. But there is this house, and this grass, and this life as well. Parts of that he doesn't want to give up. It was easier to procrastinate, to stave off the breaking for another day. To hope that something changed without words.
He'd just turned a corner when he spotted her walking toward him. He shut the mower off, letting its noise spin off to silence before greeting her with a, "Hey babe, what's wrong?" She looked shaken, hard-eyed. Maybe they found something today that she needed to unload onto him.
"Let me read you a few things," she said, voice flat. Damn she could be threatening sometimes. "Amanda, you r so cute. Smiley face. How about Thurs? I am free then. Winking face. I heart you."
They were his IMs to Amanda, spoken in her droll monotone, the light-hearted nature of the text transformed into devastation. Shit. "I... I... I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. In this space, in this time, it all fell apart. Maybe... maybe now, they can talk. Maybe he can fix this.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, trembling in her voice, that low echoing drawling voice. He dropped his head, incapable of answering. There were ashes in his mouth. He couldn't speak if he wanted to.
"You bastard. I'm going to kill..." she started to say, but the sentence slurred, her voice going down down deeper and harsher, and he looked up just as she gurgled out a nonsensical cry.
And what he saw then, he couldn't move if he wanted to. The ashes in his mouth kept him from screaming. It didn't stop her. There was pure terror in her eyes, just as they winked out, replaced by something else. She wasn't human anymore. The words "Oh my God" croaked out of his ashen throat just as she entered him with claws and teeth.
Ruby... Ruby....
--------------------------------
It didn't take him long to die, which is some very small comfort. It's strange what you think about when holding your torn fiancee in your lap, sobbing. Some tiny part of her brain still thought rational thoughts though most of it had gone off somewhere else pretending this hadn't happened. Must be survival instinct, said that rational, cold piece of her that she wished would go fuck off. Now is not the time.
He's gone. He's gone. It repeated in her mind like a mantra that she couldn't make herself believe. He dripped in her mouth, red like her name. He poured on her hands, and will be there forever. She did this, that sensible thing said to her. She did this. And then there was a new mantra.
"What... what... oh my God, that's me... Oh my God," said someone behind her, and she nearly jumped to counter the threat. She saw nothing but the dead grass, brown stained with Jared. "You did this to me," the cold air said to her, and sense finally, mercifully left.
A wild, horrible scream (the kind that wails and wavers) filled the air, and mixed with the howl of police sirens in the distance.