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vdistinctive


What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.


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Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
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75 Godiva Street, Friday night
There was a fatal flaw in Eliot's plan to keep Johnny contained. Mainly that, while Eliot was certainly capable of tremendous feats of endurance, he was still technically just a normal human, and he grew steadily weaker over the 24 hours he'd spent locked to his radiator.

And thanks to Ingvar, Johnny was only getting stronger.

Eliot sat slumped against the wall next to the radiator, his knees pulled up and his head bowed. The last 24 hours were marked out across the backs of his arms in small, thin cuts, expertly made, just deep enough to hurt and bleed without becoming dangerous.

Except for the ones on his left arm, down near his wrist. The deeper ones that Eliot hadn't noticed he'd made yet. The ones that marked out a jagged 41.

See, Johnny had spent the last 24 hours getting very, very angry. Angry enough that his ultimate goal for the island had changed. It wasn't about upping his body count any more. Oh no. Now he'd settle for just destroying Eliot Spencer. The fact that using the man's body to terrorize people would be a great way to do just that was icing.

Johnny laughed silently as Eliot's head finally drooped all the way to his chest, and he gleefully thrust himself to the forefront. First thing first, he had to get rid of this handcuff. He'd gotten used to physical pain again, it no longer distracted him the way it did when he first took over. So rather than futz about trying to find the key or pick the lock, he just grabbed onto Eliot's thumb and yanked until he heard it pop.

Whatever. He wasn't going to be needing that thumb by the time Johnny was done with him, anyway.

[could be open if anyone is being up this late and has a hankering to interact with the crazy serial killer. Content note: cutting and self-inflicted injury. Eliot's fun to beat up.]

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