Barty had taken the knife back by the time Nathan came back to life. "You haven't done this a lot, have you? That was a pathetic show." Clearly not someone who knew where to stab for a quick death. "I gave you a proper instrument and it still took you so long. It's like that time I had someone gouge their own eyes out with a spoon, that was unexpectedly lengthy as well."
Checked out with Nathan's story about his powers being new. Why would that be happening? "Let's see how fast you learn."
He held the knife out. "Stab yourself to death again, darling."
"But I just woke up!" Nathan whined, groggy and hardly fully awake as he took the knife back with trembling hands. This time he slit his throat right away, hoping it would be faster. Instead, he was -- well, it was faster in some senses but it felt worse. He felt like he was frowning, he couldn't breathe and he writhed in pain.
When he woke up this time, he had no knife again but so much blood down him, he had to giggle. "Christ, it's like Santa had his first period..."
"It's kind of gruesome, hope they'll get it out of the tiles." Barty saw the humour in it as well. He was also holding Nathan's phone in his hand now. It was interesting, sometimes it took Nathan longer to take back than others. The sun was lower by now and, yes. He was seated in a kitchen chair, looking through Nathan's phone. "Stay on the ground and cross your arms behind your back."
He didn't even look at Nathan as he gave the order. "Wow, you send a lot of texts." And he could not spell.
"So what? I got a lot of mates. Just cause you don't know what it's like, you sad old bastard." God, he hoped Barry hung up before the guy stole his phone. He thought, idiotically assuming Barty didn't know about call logs. He put his arms behind his back and stayed here he was, watching Barty with obvious annoyance. "That's my personal, private property, you know?"
His phone was his only means to communicate with most people as they no longer wanted to see him in person. So instead, he spammed them with texts. His mom hadn't answered in a week and most of his friends had left him on read. The girls never even texted back once. "It's immortality, everyone wants me, baby. I can't help that they're always all over me, sexting me at inopportune moments."
"Are you assuming that I'm illiterate or that I don't know how to scroll up? Because, generally, it seems like you're coming on strong and not getting much back. Can't say I'm surprised." He snorted, shaking his head. "I don't think your boyfriend is that into you either. So many one word responses and always with proper punctuation. There's a lot to be read into there."
Such as the assumption that he had a boyfriend. But, hey, it was the person he'd called and it was the person that he texted the most. And so much of it was deeply and disturbingly sexual.
Barty lowered the phone and looked up, considering. "Darling, if you spell out asphyxiation for me correctly right now, I won't make you do it to yourself."
"I don't have a boyfriend. I have like four girlfriends, maybe five, but no boyfriend. How many times? I'm not down for cock." Nathan felt he had to spell out as he watched him scroll through his phone, wondering who he assumed was his boyfriend. He hoped Curtis, he was the hottest of all of his male friend and if he had to be accused of wanting a guy, he'd want a good one.
At the question, Nathan scrunched his nose up, hating the question. "I flunked out of school. I think that spelling is just a concept. You know? Who says one way is right. No one says the 'w' in 'sword. So in theory, the same applies to asphyxiation."
Now to spell it. "A-S-S-F-I-X-E-A-T-O-N." Ha. Nailed it. "See? And if it's not how you think it's spelled then that's just your version of things, not mine."
Barty hmmed, unconvinced, and slowly took off his tie. He held it out to Nathan and gestured to his throat. "Wrap that around your neck."
As he considered things, he felt he owed it to him to give him at least a little bit of an upside. "Can you spell erotic?" Barty got up, placing the chair he was sitting in right under the light fixture. "If you spell it right, there's a mind-blowing orgasm in it for you."
"Uh. Oh. Fuck me, it's the thing those wanky suicidal celebrities do where you choke yourself to orgasm." Nathan laughed, because he had to, holding the tie that he had wrapped around his neck as he considered the word and how to spell it. Fuck. He was a really bad speller. He closed his eyes and tried to think. "E-R--"
He hesitated. Erotic. Like rot. So. "O-T--" Fuck. Oh! Oh! Like Tic-Tacs! "I-C."
Nathan grinned. "E-R-O-T-I-C. Ha! Take that, fuckhead."
"Let's hear it for the education system." Barty gestured to the chair, giving his instructions. "Get on there and tie the end of the tie to the fixture. Then you can start wanking. I'm sure you don't need guidance for that, randy boy like you."
Really quite alarmingly horny. Although Barty found it amusing. Perhaps he also found it a little bit more, given that Nathan really was quite the pretty boy whenever he shut up for a moment.
"Barry's asking where you are, by the way." He said it as soon as Nathan started jerking off.
Nathan started to jack off, not as happy as he wanted to be because there was a horrible energy hovering over it. Something bad was going to happen and he really just hoped the orgasm was fast. He jerked his hand up and down, desperate and fast, really going for it. It wasn't super nice without lube but he could work with it.
"Eh?" He looked at Barty, slightly alarmed, and pulled a face. "Don't bring up him while I'm jacking it! Christ, I'll lose my wood."
Well, he didn't. If anything, he was starting to get close. "Tell him I'm being sexually harassed by a known panty sniffer with mind control powers."
"I think he has an idea. Who'd have thought, you actually do have someone who gives a shit about you." Barty looked at Nathan, trying to decide when he was close enough. When it seemed as if he was, he kicked the chair out from under him and started filming. If he was being accused of being a pervert, he might as well deliver.
Once Nathan stopped twitching, Barty closed the phone. He got the chair back under Nathan's feet and waited, then smiled once he was back alive. "Seems as if that was good for you."
"I mean, as far as torture goes, I'll take the orgasm root."
Nathan didn't know how he was feeling, it was nice to get off but he was sick of dying. It hurt. His throat was sore, he felt all weird and off and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He raised his hand to rub his face, not sure how long they were going to do this for. Maybe Simon was assembling the group and getting some superhero action going on.
Looking at Barty, he tilted his head back and sighed. "When are we done here? Cause I did have plans tonight. With my mates. Going to a rave. I'd invite you but you're a complete prick and I hate you."
"Yeah, no. I don't think so." Barty just looked at him, amused more than anything. "You are fun to play with. I'm going to keep doing it. Usually my pets don't last all that long, but with you that's not a worry."
Kind of a sweet deal, especially as Nathan was also easy on the eyes and entertaining. Sure, he might get annoying every now and then, but he was sure killing him or having him kill himself could alleviate that. "Tell you what. I'm giving you a choice for your next few hours. Do you want psychological torture or physical?"
"How about some beers and a nice chat. You can tell me all about yourself. I'm sure you're ... fascinating." Whatever got him out of the option of two kinds of torture. Barty didn't look like he was going for it so Nathan shrugged, his lip raising as he thought of his two options with disgust and dislike. Fuck.
"I mean, psychological hurts less, right?" Given that physical torture would be more deaths and maybe more hitting so he didn't like his odds. "I'd rather you messed with my head than my beautiful, innocent body."
"Come down from there." He waited for Nathan to do so and then gestured to the far corner of the room. "Sit down there. We'll talk."
He crouched down and faced him. "Look at me. You have quite the mind, don't you? Such an ugly, messed up thing." Really was quite the juxtaposition to his pretty face. "So desperate for attention and scared of rejection that you'll come up with anything just to not face reality."
Barty tilted his head, just a bit. "You will think now, Nathan. You will think about how people really feel about you. You will feel how much they dislike you. And you are going to use those twisted thoughts of self-hatred to ponder all the things that I could do to you, to make you suffer. Nathan? Be scared. And stay right here in the corner. Keep quite. Whimpering is enough. I'll allow some sobs."
"People like me. I got loads of mates." He didn't want to think about that sort of thing, it was boring. It didn't bother him anyway, he didn't really need mates. He never did. He never had them, not at school and certainly not now. Though he had some people that liked him. Tolerated him. Barry asked where he was so he wasn't entirely hated, right? Even if Barry never really answered his texts properly or went out with him. Not that any of them did.
Oh God, he hated this. He wanted to talk. He wanted to get up, to make a joke, to do something. He tried desperately to fight against the others but all it did was make his body convulse unpleasantly. He couldn't escape the feeling. The fear. The hate. He horrible uncertainty.
Even his own mom and dad fucking hated him.
He didn't cry. If anyone asked, he didn't cry. Nope. It was just seasonal allergies, that was all. Everyone cried sometimes but not over these things. Real shit wasn't worth these sort of feelings.
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no subject
Checked out with Nathan's story about his powers being new. Why would that be happening? "Let's see how fast you learn."
He held the knife out. "Stab yourself to death again, darling."
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When he woke up this time, he had no knife again but so much blood down him, he had to giggle. "Christ, it's like Santa had his first period..."
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He didn't even look at Nathan as he gave the order. "Wow, you send a lot of texts." And he could not spell.
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His phone was his only means to communicate with most people as they no longer wanted to see him in person. So instead, he spammed them with texts. His mom hadn't answered in a week and most of his friends had left him on read. The girls never even texted back once. "It's immortality, everyone wants me, baby. I can't help that they're always all over me, sexting me at inopportune moments."
no subject
Such as the assumption that he had a boyfriend. But, hey, it was the person he'd called and it was the person that he texted the most. And so much of it was deeply and disturbingly sexual.
Barty lowered the phone and looked up, considering. "Darling, if you spell out asphyxiation for me correctly right now, I won't make you do it to yourself."
no subject
At the question, Nathan scrunched his nose up, hating the question. "I flunked out of school. I think that spelling is just a concept. You know? Who says one way is right. No one says the 'w' in 'sword. So in theory, the same applies to asphyxiation."
Now to spell it. "A-S-S-F-I-X-E-A-T-O-N." Ha. Nailed it. "See? And if it's not how you think it's spelled then that's just your version of things, not mine."
no subject
As he considered things, he felt he owed it to him to give him at least a little bit of an upside. "Can you spell erotic?" Barty got up, placing the chair he was sitting in right under the light fixture. "If you spell it right, there's a mind-blowing orgasm in it for you."
no subject
He hesitated. Erotic. Like rot. So. "O-T--" Fuck. Oh! Oh! Like Tic-Tacs! "I-C."
Nathan grinned. "E-R-O-T-I-C. Ha! Take that, fuckhead."
no subject
Really quite alarmingly horny. Although Barty found it amusing. Perhaps he also found it a little bit more, given that Nathan really was quite the pretty boy whenever he shut up for a moment.
"Barry's asking where you are, by the way." He said it as soon as Nathan started jerking off.
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"Eh?" He looked at Barty, slightly alarmed, and pulled a face. "Don't bring up him while I'm jacking it! Christ, I'll lose my wood."
Well, he didn't. If anything, he was starting to get close. "Tell him I'm being sexually harassed by a known panty sniffer with mind control powers."
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Once Nathan stopped twitching, Barty closed the phone. He got the chair back under Nathan's feet and waited, then smiled once he was back alive. "Seems as if that was good for you."
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Nathan didn't know how he was feeling, it was nice to get off but he was sick of dying. It hurt. His throat was sore, he felt all weird and off and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He raised his hand to rub his face, not sure how long they were going to do this for. Maybe Simon was assembling the group and getting some superhero action going on.
Looking at Barty, he tilted his head back and sighed. "When are we done here? Cause I did have plans tonight. With my mates. Going to a rave. I'd invite you but you're a complete prick and I hate you."
no subject
Kind of a sweet deal, especially as Nathan was also easy on the eyes and entertaining. Sure, he might get annoying every now and then, but he was sure killing him or having him kill himself could alleviate that. "Tell you what. I'm giving you a choice for your next few hours. Do you want psychological torture or physical?"
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"I mean, psychological hurts less, right?" Given that physical torture would be more deaths and maybe more hitting so he didn't like his odds. "I'd rather you messed with my head than my beautiful, innocent body."
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He crouched down and faced him. "Look at me. You have quite the mind, don't you? Such an ugly, messed up thing." Really was quite the juxtaposition to his pretty face. "So desperate for attention and scared of rejection that you'll come up with anything just to not face reality."
Barty tilted his head, just a bit. "You will think now, Nathan. You will think about how people really feel about you. You will feel how much they dislike you. And you are going to use those twisted thoughts of self-hatred to ponder all the things that I could do to you, to make you suffer. Nathan? Be scared. And stay right here in the corner. Keep quite. Whimpering is enough. I'll allow some sobs."
no subject
Oh God, he hated this. He wanted to talk. He wanted to get up, to make a joke, to do something. He tried desperately to fight against the others but all it did was make his body convulse unpleasantly. He couldn't escape the feeling. The fear. The hate. He horrible uncertainty.
Even his own mom and dad fucking hated him.
He didn't cry. If anyone asked, he didn't cry. Nope. It was just seasonal allergies, that was all. Everyone cried sometimes but not over these things. Real shit wasn't worth these sort of feelings.
He wanted to get up now.