Raped and Bleeding: Figments

Chapter 1

"I'll always be with you, John. Always."

John squeezed his eyes shut, pulled the trigger, and fired. The nightmare was finally over.

So he thought.
-.- Two Years Later -.-
"Really now, John, is this truly necessary?"

"Sure, why not? After all, you are in my head and those psyche doctors and all their funny pills didn't work. Why not an exorcism?" John reasoned to the "ghost" sitting on the counter. He dried a dish and put it in the shelf before dropping the towel onto the edge of the sink.

The boy, a kid in his late teens, crossed his arms and leveled a light glare on his Scelto. "Dude, I am not a ghost, I'm but a figment of your imagination. I can't just be exorcised."

"Then how the hell am I supposed to get rid of you?! Bloody magic?"

The figment laughed, "But, John, you can't get rid of me. I said that I'd always be with you and I'm keeping that promise."

John snorted, "Yeah, right, Nero. When have you ever kept a promise you've made to me? Other then this one!"

Nero was silent and watched John leave the kitchen. He disappeared and reappeared sitting on the staircase. "What about the one about going to the theme park? I promised that I'd take you and I did!"

"Moron, you screwed me over on that trip!" John growled. "I had to pay for everything!"

"So? I never said I would pay for it all."

"YES, YOU DID, YOU IDIOT!" John yelled at the figment.

"Huh, now that I think of it, I did say I would pay for it, didn't I?" the boy shrugged. "Well, now, I did pay for it in the end, didn't I? You did shoot me, after all."

John glared at him and walked past him up the stairs.

"Tell me something, John," the figment said as he appeared leaning in a doorway. "Why did you shoot me in the first place?"

"Because you were a very, very, bad person, Nero."

"But you have to admit that that was what attracted you to me in the first place."

"Funny, I don't call being practically kidnapped in the grocery store Attraction."

"I didn't say it was a romantic attraction."

"Nero, shut up."

"Fine," Nero said lightly, a soft British accent colouring his words, "have it your way, but you know I'm not going to be gone for long."

And the figment disappeared, settling back in his Scelto's mind. John cursed and pulled a sweater on before walking out of his house.

His neighbor, an old widow, gave him a suspicious look before shuffling back into her house. John's hearing picked up the click of the bolt being locked into place. He supposed that she had heard him yell at Nero again.

Living next door to a supposed psychopath, he almost didn't blame her for her actions.

Almost.
TBC...

NOTES:
Scelto is Italian for "Chosen", in case you felt the need to know.
I'll write more, just as soon as you, my Lettori Cari (English: Beloved Readers), tell me what YOU think should happen.