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16+ Language

Exes and Killers

by TOPAWG


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.

(initially supposed to be just dialogue but I got carried away)

"Don't walk away when I'm speaking to you, Christen," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides, betraying the turmoil within her.

Christen paused in his steps, his eyes flickering back to her. The warmth of affection that once filled his heart now gave way to a storm of disgust and frustration. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he struggled to contain his rising temper. "What the fuck is your problem, mom?" His words were sharp, cutting through the air with a palpable tension.

She crossed her arms, a scowl etched deep on her face. "You're my problem, and don't curse at me!" Her voice cracked with the strain of holding back tears, her brows furrowing with annoyance. "This is exactly the attitude your teachers have been warning me about. Can't you think for once, huh? You walk around as if nothing happened, Christen!"

"That's because NOTHING HAPPENED!" Christen erupted, his voice rising with each word. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "We made that fucking clear, didn't we, Mom!? We didn't spend all that money just for you to keep bringing it up!"

"We?" she scoffed incredulously, her tone laced with bitterness. "Last I checked, that money came from your father's account. It's his fault you're like this, you know, a spoiled little shitty brat who thinks the whole fucking world revolves around him."

"Oh, well yeah, whatever. Let's keep it that way. You're just peeved because Dad isn't sending you money anymore. Gucci purses are more important than your son?" Christen's words dripped with sarcasm, his eyes flashing with resentment.

With a look of disbelief, she marched over and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a stunned silence. Tears welled up in her eyes, her hands trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. "YOU KILLED SOMEONE, YOU MONSTER!"

Christen pushed her away, his cheeks flushed with anger. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his eyes blazing with defiance. "WHO CARES!? HE WAS A FUCKING LOSER, MOM!" His voice echoed off the walls, filled with bitterness and resentment.

"Not even his fucking parents care he's dead! That money shut them up, didn't it? Who'd feel sorry for someone whose family didn't even fucking like him," he retorted nonchalantly, a smug smirk playing on his lips. His words were like daggers, cutting through the tension in the room.

"I'm leaving for school now," he announced, his voice cold and detached. He adjusted his uniform tie and hair with practiced precision, his movements mechanical. "Can you keep your mouth—" he gestured to his lips, miming zipping them shut, "—and we'll all have a great day."

——

The hustle and bustle of Addaway's halls enveloped him. Christen made his way to his locker, a routine he couldn't bid himself of. Standing there, the usual things shit-face people would drop off in 'respect' was absent from the scene —no flowers, bears, or heartfelt notes adorned the metal door, not even a single photograph.

His gaze lingered ahead, seemingly lost in a trance of contemplation. In that moment, it dawned on him —he had been right all along. That guy was nothing more than a loser. If Christen was to be brutally honest with himself, he saved him from the cruel world that hated him.

For a moment he continued to stare before kicking the locker, mumbling insults as he silently walked away.

——

He smoked often, not for any particular reason, but simply because he found it hard not to. Currently, he was with some girl whose name escaped him—Cindy? Maddie? It didn't matter. It was obvious why she was hanging around him, to look cool and edgy. He scoffed and spat a log of hard spit against the pavement when smoke caught in his lungs.

Unlike him, the girl couldn't handle it and started coughing like crazy. "Woah...ahem, heh...uh, so how's your morning?" she asked between coughs, her voice strained and raspy.

Christen dragged another puff and blew out a cloud of smoke. He squinted at her, his eyes scanning her face with detached interest. "Who are you again?" he asked, his tone flat and indifferent.

The girl's face fell, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "...Sahara. Uhm, we're in chemistry together..." she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Disgusted, he shifted away, his expression one of disdain. "If you're going to die, do it somewhere else, please." His words were cold and callous, devoid of empathy or concern.

The coughing continued, and Sahara squeezed her chest, struggling to catch her breath. She waved off his comment, her face contorted in pain. Out of nowhere, another girl came rushing in—Marissa.

"Oh my god, Sahara! Are you alright? Oh, Christen..." Her tone dripped with disdain when she spots him, her eyes narrowing with disapproval. "Seriously, Sahara!? Cigarettes! You know you have asthma!" she scolded; her voice tinged with frustration.

Furious, Sahara shouted, "Why do you have to embarrass me all the time!?" before running away, her footsteps crushing beneath thick white snow.

"Sahara—!" Marissa called out, her voice filled with concern, but it was too late.

Marissa's attention turned to Christen, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You could have killed her," she accused, her voice trembling with anger.

Instead of apologizing, Christen laughed, his voice filled with mockery. "Me?" he exclaimed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "That's the cigarettes. You should teach her how to read the boxes." His words were like a slap in the face, his laughter turned into a sickly cough, and he tossed a cigarette butt in her direction with a careless flick of his wrist.

"Fuck you, Bales! I tell you she could've died, and that's all you've got to say!? You're messed up!" Marissa spat out the words, flipping him off before storming away in frustration.

He brushed her off and pulled out another cigarette, "Hm... maybe I do have a problem," he muttered realizing the box was already finished. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a shroud of darkness. Restlessly tapping his feet, Christen gnawed on the cigarette, scanning the bustling crowd of students, his gaze halted abruptly, ensnared by the familiarity of a face etched with memories both cherished and haunting. A sudden wave of nausea swept over him, twisting his insides into knots of dread. 

With a gulp, Christen sped off, every movement fueled by a primal surge of panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he darted inside, a blur amidst the sea of startled students. He careened past them, his breath ragged and uneven, as he raced towards the sanctuary of the library. Each step felt like an eternity, the weight of his apprehension bearing down on him like a leaden cloak, yet he pressed on, driven by an urgent need to escape.

He must have looked like a lunatic, he was aware, but he entered the quiet zone looking disheveled and out of breath. He spotted his group of friends and ran over to them, announcing loudly, "HE'S ALIVE!"

Everyone—Lucas, Riya, Daniel, Berry, and Michael—turned towards him, confusion written on their faces.

He shouted again, "HE'S ALIVE...HE'S HERE! OUTSIDE, GUYS, HE FUCKING WALKED IN—"

Michael was at his side quickly, aiding him, rubbing Christen's back and holding onto his shoulder like a lifeline. He brought him over, sitting him down, but Christen jumped right back up. "He isn't dead!"

"What the fuck are you yapping about, man?" Lucas sneered, glaring at him.

"Who isn't dead...?" Berry's soft voice mirrored, the group exchanging knowing glances. She freaked out, "...is this a joke? That's fucking sick, Christen!" She slammed her hand down and stood up. "Don't joke!"

"Yeah...bro, what the hell..." Riya muttered.

Christen wasn't crazy; he saw him—the face, the body, the hair, his permanent frown. Everything was him; everything was Adrian. "Do you think I'd joke about something like this!?"

"Of course I do, because you're fucked in the head!" Berry shouted.

"I paid millions of fucking dollars to get rid of this!"

"BECAUSE YOU KILLED HIM!"

Christen moved to attack her, but Berry yelped and sheltered behind Lucas, who punched him. He fell backward onto Riya, who managed to keep her balance. "FUCK YOU, LUCAS! I AM NOT CRAZY!"

"Well, you sound crazy," Riya remarked. "Adrian is dead, Chris. He's been dead for two damn weeks. Quit the nicotine."

She always made sly comments about his smoking, that shit-eating grin he wanted to wipe off her damn face. About to approach her, he was stopped by Michael. They were locked in a quiet daze, and he could tell Michael was concerned about his mental state. But he was fine; it was the fact that no one was listening to him that was bothering him.

"Christen, are you...sure you saw him?" Michael asked.

"Are you serious, man? You actually believe this shit?" Daniel stood up, exasperation evident in his voice. "This is fucked. Look, I'm going to class, alright? I'm not going to get caught up in Christens' bullshit again." He grabbed his books and bag, slinging it over his shoulder before leaving, even though class hadn't started yet.

Everyone fell quiet, expressions of deep concern and confusion lingering on their faces.

Michael sighed, coaxing Christen's hand into his. They looked at each other, and Christen cast his eyes elsewhere, a flush creeping up his face.

"Let's just check it out..."

——

The group of six stood outside, snow pelting their exposed skin as they watched from afar. A mess of ashy blond hair, complimenting ice-pale flesh and dark brown eyes, stood before a group of students who seemed to blur into the background.

"Oh...my god," Berry was the first to speak, her voice quivering with disbelief. She wrenched and grasped at her stomach. "Oh god..." and with that, she ran away, with Lucas following closely behind.

Riya wiped her face, pulling her hair back as a long, agonizing sound escaped her lips. "I... can't..." she murmured, waving off the others before swiftly leaving.

Now, it was just Christen and Michael. They stood side by side, watching as this...fake Adrian stared back at them.

"It's him..." Christen muttered, swallowing hard as he fought back the mucus in his throat. "It is..."

"No, Chris—"

"It is him! Look at how he's just...fucking standing there! Looking at me! You think I don't know what my boyfriend looks like!?" His voice cracked with emotion, his hands trembling with fear and uncertainty.


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Wed Jun 19, 2024 5:37 pm
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Coffeewriter wrote a review...



Hi there it’s Coffee to drop a roasting review! First of all, wow. This is really messed up. It’s an amazing story and I’m already very hooked but I also feel incredibly concerned for Christen. It's an interesting start and certainly is very…vocal. Christen seems like he’s beyond repair at the start and that he is certainly a person with a very happening background but at the end…he just seems like a person who needs someone in his life beside him. He needs someone. Desperately. You haven’t revealed much, which is a very good tactic to keep us engaged(certainly working) and the cliffhanger at the end really makes me excited to read another chapter!

“ Disgusted, he shifted away, his expression one of disdain. "If you're going to die, do it somewhere else, please." His words were cold and callous, devoid of empathy or concern. “

He seems hopeless, like he’s beyond repair and he’s too broken from stress and pain. Whatever happened in his past, seems very serious and highly messed up. Resulting in him becoming the same. You can’t really blame a kid if he never gets the support he truly needs, can you? But then he acts like that…
“ With a gulp, Christen sped off, every movement fueled by a primal surge of panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he darted inside, a blur amidst the sea of startled students. He careened past them, his breath ragged and uneven, as he raced towards the sanctuary of the library. Each step felt like an eternity, the weight of his apprehension bearing down on him like a leaden cloak, yet he pressed on, driven by an urgent need to escape. “


Then, he just seems like a scared and confused kid who’s been abused. Mentally or physically. We don’t really know what happened and I think this might be a key example of don’t judge a book by its cover .

Thank you for reading, sharing and have a good day/night!<3




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Wed Jun 05, 2024 1:29 am
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KateHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: Well this was quite the little tale here, very intriguing, I mean I love how mysterious the actual main driver of the plot is kept there and then all the little side details thrown in there too.

Anyway let's get right to it,

"Don't walk away when I'm speaking to you, Christen," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides, betraying the turmoil within her.

Christen paused in his steps, his eyes flickering back to her. The warmth of affection that once filled his heart now gave way to a storm of disgust and frustration. His jaw clenched, muscles tensing as he struggled to contain his rising temper. "What the fuck is your problem, mom?" His words were sharp, cutting through the air with a palpable tension.

She crossed her arms, a scowl etched deep on her face. "You're my problem, and don't curse at me!" Her voice cracked with the strain of holding back tears, her brows furrowing with annoyance. "This is exactly the attitude your teachers have been warning me about. Can't you think for once, huh? You walk around as if nothing happened, Christen!"


Well looks like we're starting off with a classic argument here, and a pretty intense one at that especially between mother and son, those are the ones that really can reach some intense proportions. Great place to start I'd say here.

"That's because NOTHING HAPPENED!" Christen erupted, his voice rising with each word. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "We made that fucking clear, didn't we, Mom!? We didn't spend all that money just for you to keep bringing it up!"

"We?" she scoffed incredulously, her tone laced with bitterness. "Last I checked, that money came from your father's account. It's his fault you're like this, you know, a spoiled little shitty brat who thinks the whole fucking world revolves around him."

"Oh, well yeah, whatever. Let's keep it that way. You're just peeved because Dad isn't sending you money anymore. Gucci purses are more important than your son?" Christen's words dripped with sarcasm, his eyes flashing with resentment.


Okay this one's going real deep here, honestly impossible to be actually picking a side at this point, given they're both shouting enough horrible things back and forth its hard to tell who's telling the truth and who's just trying to make the other person look bad.

With a look of disbelief, she marched over and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a stunned silence. Tears welled up in her eyes, her hands trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. "YOU KILLED SOMEONE, YOU MONSTER!"

Christen pushed her away, his cheeks flushed with anger. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, his eyes blazing with defiance. "WHO CARES!? HE WAS A FUCKING LOSER, MOM!" His voice echoed off the walls, filled with bitterness and resentment.

"Not even his fucking parents care he's dead! That money shut them up, didn't it? Who'd feel sorry for someone whose family didn't even fucking like him," he retorted nonchalantly, a smug smirk playing on his lips. His words were like daggers, cutting through the tension in the room.

"I'm leaving for school now," he announced, his voice cold and detached. He adjusted his uniform tie and hair with practiced precision, his movements mechanical. "Can you keep your mouth—" he gestured to his lips, miming zipping them shut, "—and we'll all have a great day."


Oh just as I was about to be like wow they equally bad for each other, we get that. I think someone who murdered someone and then clearly appears to be absolutely fine with it and almost gloaty about it is definitely the worse person there. Which now makes me wonder what this world is like if this is such a casual thing.

The hustle and bustle of Addaway's halls enveloped him. Christen made his way to his locker, a routine he couldn't bid himself of. Standing there, the usual things shit-face people would drop off in 'respect' was absent from the scene —no flowers, bears, or heartfelt notes adorned the metal door, not even a single photograph.

His gaze lingered ahead, seemingly lost in a trance of contemplation. In that moment, it dawned on him —he had been right all along. That guy was nothing more than a loser. If Christen was to be brutally honest with himself, he saved him from the cruel world that hated him.

For a moment he continued to stare before kicking the locker, mumbling insults as he silently walked away.


Hmmm okay an interesting little thought process there, going a little deeper into the mind of our killer here, definitely something to think about there especially in respect to what we've seen up to now.

He smoked often, not for any particular reason, but simply because he found it hard not to. Currently, he was with some girl whose name escaped him—Cindy? Maddie? It didn't matter. It was obvious why she was hanging around him, to look cool and edgy. He scoffed and spat a log of hard spit against the pavement when smoke caught in his lungs.

Unlike him, the girl couldn't handle it and started coughing like crazy. "Woah...ahem, heh...uh, so how's your morning?" she asked between coughs, her voice strained and raspy.

Christen dragged another puff and blew out a cloud of smoke. He squinted at her, his eyes scanning her face with detached interest. "Who are you again?" he asked, his tone flat and indifferent.

The girl's face fell, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "...Sahara. Uhm, we're in chemistry together..." she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper.


Well this is definitely not the kind of main character you end up liking and rooting for, that much is evident, this is just straight up a complete and utter jerk who is probably aware and doesn't even care. Its an interesting change honestly.

Disgusted, he shifted away, his expression one of disdain. "If you're going to die, do it somewhere else, please." His words were cold and callous, devoid of empathy or concern.

The coughing continued, and Sahara squeezed her chest, struggling to catch her breath. She waved off his comment, her face contorted in pain. Out of nowhere, another girl came rushing in—Marissa.

"Oh my god, Sahara! Are you alright? Oh, Christen..." Her tone dripped with disdain when she spots him, her eyes narrowing with disapproval. "Seriously, Sahara!? Cigarettes! You know you have asthma!" she scolded; her voice tinged with frustration.


Oh well that's nice to see, it looks like Sahara has a friend who does actually care about her, although I'm willing to bet Sahara is going to shake her off here, there's no way she's this close to someone like our protagonist and still acknowledging a friend actually trying to be helpful.

Furious, Sahara shouted, "Why do you have to embarrass me all the time!?" before running away, her footsteps crushing beneath thick white snow.

"Sahara—!" Marissa called out, her voice filled with concern, but it was too late.

Marissa's attention turned to Christen, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You could have killed her," she accused, her voice trembling with anger.

Instead of apologizing, Christen laughed, his voice filled with mockery. "Me?" he exclaimed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "That's the cigarettes. You should teach her how to read the boxes." His words were like a slap in the face, his laughter turned into a sickly cough, and he tossed a cigarette butt in her direction with a careless flick of his wrist.


Ooh dear well Christen continues to amuse us with his incredible personality there and that prediction turned out true there. Well at least it seems not everyone is enamored with this fellow so that's a win for this society.

"Fuck you, Bales! I tell you she could've died, and that's all you've got to say!? You're messed up!" Marissa spat out the words, flipping him off before storming away in frustration.

He brushed her off and pulled out another cigarette, "Hm... maybe I do have a problem," he muttered realizing the box was already finished. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a shroud of darkness. Restlessly tapping his feet, Christen gnawed on the cigarette, scanning the bustling crowd of students, his gaze halted abruptly, ensnared by the familiarity of a face etched with memories both cherished and haunting. A sudden wave of nausea swept over him, twisting his insides into knots of dread.

With a gulp, Christen sped off, every movement fueled by a primal surge of panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he darted inside, a blur amidst the sea of startled students. He careened past them, his breath ragged and uneven, as he raced towards the sanctuary of the library. Each step felt like an eternity, the weight of his apprehension bearing down on him like a leaden cloak, yet he pressed on, driven by an urgent need to escape.


Well Christen most definitely has a problem, several problems to be completely honest although for a change it looks like he's a little bit on the backfoot in this moment which appears to be fairly rare for him.

He must have looked like a lunatic, he was aware, but he entered the quiet zone looking disheveled and out of breath. He spotted his group of friends and ran over to them, announcing loudly, "HE'S ALIVE!"

Everyone—Lucas, Riya, Daniel, Berry, and Michael—turned towards him, confusion written on their faces.

He shouted again, "HE'S ALIVE...HE'S HERE! OUTSIDE, GUYS, HE FUCKING WALKED IN—"

Michael was at his side quickly, aiding him, rubbing Christen's back and holding onto his shoulder like a lifeline. He brought him over, sitting him down, but Christen jumped right back up. "He isn't dead!"

"What the fuck are you yapping about, man?" Lucas sneered, glaring at him.


Well not surprised to find an entire gang of goons there and it looks like they don't exactly immediately believe that claim because wow that is definitely something pretty insane especially for the actual killer to see.

"Who isn't dead...?" Berry's soft voice mirrored, the group exchanging knowing glances. She freaked out, "...is this a joke? That's fucking sick, Christen!" She slammed her hand down and stood up. "Don't joke!"

"Yeah...bro, what the hell..." Riya muttered.

Christen wasn't crazy; he saw him—the face, the body, the hair, his permanent frown. Everything was him; everything was Adrian. "Do you think I'd joke about something like this!?"

"Of course I do, because you're fucked in the head!" Berry shouted.

"I paid millions of fucking dollars to get rid of this!"


Well that's revealing quite a lot there about how he's gotten to be this insane and have this much power in the place, if he can pay millions of dollars like it isn't that big of a deal. Also you can see why he's so startled in this particular moment.

"BECAUSE YOU KILLED HIM!"

Christen moved to attack her, but Berry yelped and sheltered behind Lucas, who punched him. He fell backward onto Riya, who managed to keep her balance. "FUCK YOU, LUCAS! I AM NOT CRAZY!"

"Well, you sound crazy," Riya remarked. "Adrian is dead, Chris. He's been dead for two damn weeks. Quit the nicotine."

She always made sly comments about his smoking, that shit-eating grin he wanted to wipe off her damn face. About to approach her, he was stopped by Michael. They were locked in a quiet daze, and he could tell Michael was concerned about his mental state. But he was fine; it was the fact that no one was listening to him that was bothering him.


Well in classic goon squad fashion they aren't believing him and are instead fighting each other a little bit. We'll see how they manage to handle it if at all they actually do.

"Christen, are you...sure you saw him?" Michael asked.

"Are you serious, man? You actually believe this shit?" Daniel stood up, exasperation evident in his voice. "This is fucked. Look, I'm going to class, alright? I'm not going to get caught up in Christens' bullshit again." He grabbed his books and bag, slinging it over his shoulder before leaving, even though class hadn't started yet.

Everyone fell quiet, expressions of deep concern and confusion lingering on their faces.

Michael sighed, coaxing Christen's hand into his. They looked at each other, and Christen cast his eyes elsewhere, a flush creeping up his face.

"Let's just check it out..."


Well that's another rather typical move from a squad like but it seems in the end they're going to at least somewhat entertain the idea and at the very least check out what Christen is talking about.

The group of six stood outside, snow pelting their exposed skin as they watched from afar. A mess of ashy blond hair, complimenting ice-pale flesh and dark brown eyes, stood before a group of students who seemed to blur into the background.

"Oh...my god," Berry was the first to speak, her voice quivering with disbelief. She wrenched and grasped at her stomach. "Oh god..." and with that, she ran away, with Lucas following closely behind.

Riya wiped her face, pulling her hair back as a long, agonizing sound escaped her lips. "I... can't..." she murmured, waving off the others before swiftly leaving.


Well it looks like the gang believe him now although there's various amounts of support coming in from the looks of things, and its about to be a bit of a side picking festival from the looks of things.

Now, it was just Christen and Michael. They stood side by side, watching as this...fake Adrian stared back at them.

"It's him..." Christen muttered, swallowing hard as he fought back the mucus in his throat. "It is..."

"No, Chris—"

"It is him! Look at how he's just...fucking standing there! Looking at me! You think I don't know what my boyfriend looks like!?" His voice cracked with emotion, his hands trembling with fear and uncertainty.


Well that's gone down very interestingly there, at least everyone is somewhat cooperative and believing although I honestly don't know if I want to actually root for them in this moment.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall I think you've done a great job constructing a pretty detailed world here and an interesting little problem, I think I'll take a look at that second part too as soon as I can.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Kate

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TOPAWG says...


Ah thank you so much for reviewing! <3 And honestly you really should not be rooting for any of these characters! XD They're terrible I say, but am hoping once I get my inspiration back to continue I hope to develop them more.



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Sun May 12, 2024 4:54 am
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monkeyladder2 says...



First off, the characters are well-developed and have distinct personalities. The way you portrayed their reactions and emotions, specifically during the dramatic revelation of the main character seeing someone who looks exactly like his dead boyfriend, was believable and impactful. The dialogue felt natural and helped to move the plot forward while also revealing each character's unique voice. The pacing was well done, and the narrative had a strong emotional drive. The revelation was a compelling twist that added intensity to the story. Overall, it's an intriguing start to a story.




TOPAWG says...


kudos for commenting <3 ur feedback means a lot!




a little humanity makes all the difference
— Rosendorn