Gabriel POV, he's about 16 in this. The way the timeline goes, Gabriel was attacked in june (he was 14), spent two months in the hospital for his injuries, spent about eight months in the mental ward (he turned 15 while there), and then spent about three more months in near-isolation at home before going back to being slightly normal. (For Gabriel standards, anyway.) This is sometime after that, not much after turning 16. On with the story!

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I simply stood there, leaning over the form that lay motionless on the cold metal table of my windowless room. The clock on the wall claiming it to be somewhere around three am, when I knew for sure it had only been about four in the afternoon the last I had checked.

It was very interesting to see Kaelec like this. His usually tightly drawn, frowning lips were slack and tinged blue. His once dark blue eyes were staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Dried tears ran down the ends of his cold, paper-white face. Pain etched into his features, forever frozen into place.

It’s odd, but I couldn’t feel any remorse or fear or…anything, staring at his mutilated form. I looked the cooling form up and down, idling myself with the ferocity of the disturbing image.

His mouth had large gorges that started from the cress of the lips and lead to his earlobes. It was obvious that this hadn’t been what had killed the teen by the way the unconnected skin was melted, as if to make sure he wouldn’t bleed to death. Yet.

My gaze traveled down to this neck and chest area. His chest was cut open from the dip of his collar bone to the dip of his belly-button, held open with piano wires sewn into the bones of the rib cage that eventually tied to the edges of the table. The boy had been pulled open like a piglet in a 12th grade science class, his organs clear and on display. The same melting process seemed to be repeated several times on his chest.

Beside the red-headed boy were several of his organs, like his stomach, intestines, spleen, and some others. The way their edges were jagged hinted their removal being a painful and long process. I looked down the teen some more to see that his sexual organ had been completely removed, and by my guess it was probably in the trash can.

My eyes wandered back up to his chest for closer inspection. That’s when I noticed that not only was the insides of his chest on display, but the inside of his heart was as well. A long scalpel stood out of the still organ, blood that had ceased to flow slowly being to thicken around it.

Now that I thought about it, he was nearly covered in blood. So was the table, and the plastic covered floor and walls of my room. Everything had at least some blood on it. I was glad there was plastic covering it.

I looked down at my hands to notice that I was covered in his blood as well. My hair was tightly matted to my face and head, having been loosely tied back into a messy ponytail. My shirt was stiff from the dried blood that caked it, my pants in no better shape.

I guess that solves what happened while I blacked out for the last 11 hours…

Strangely enough, it didn’t bother me at all. I was surprised that I wasn’t going into another attack.

I hear the door behind me open and someone gasp. I turn my head slightly to see that the visitor was none other than Artimes. I wasn’t surprised at him being here, seeing how he’s always coming over at random times because of his insomnia.

I could see his eyes darting around the room rapidly, his mind trying fruitlessly to comprehend what had happened in here. I turn back to look at Kaelec again. I could hear him attempting to say something, but every time he would get a couple words out, he would stop himself. He was unsure, maybe even afraid to know.

“I didn’t do it, Artie…” I tell him, in a flat tone. I didn’t even look at him when saying it. I could tell something snapped because he let out a low growl.

“You didn’t do it?! What the hell, Gabe; the blood is all over you! How can you seriously tell me that and expect me to believe it!” He said, nearly screaming at me. I hope he doesn’t wake my parents up.

“Calm down, Artie.” I tell him, looking over my shoulder to him. Seeing the blood on me must’ve made him freak out, because the next thing I knew he came running at me. He grabbed my shoulder in a vice grip and pulled me so I was facing him.

“Calm down?! Gabriel, there’s a DEAD PERSON lying on your table!” He nearly screamed again. I could see in his eyes that he was afraid. Afraid of what I’ve, no; of what Darker’s done, afraid of what could happen to us now.

I put my hands on his, which had yet to leave my shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Artimes,” I sigh and look down. “Don’t you remember who this is? What this person has done?” I nearly whisper, keeping my eyes low while refusing to meet his out of shame.

I could tell you looked behind me to his lifeless form because of the wave of disgust that rolls over me. Then I feel your hands loosen, so quickly that I’m not even sure it even happened, and then they tighten even more than they were before. You’ve finally noticed just who was laying there dead.

“It’s… him.” You simply say, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“It was Darker” your hands tighten a fraction more, “who did it, but I feel no regret over my stained hands. There’s nothing to fret; Darker thought ahead with the plastic. I can dispose of it…” I finish off, my voice having made itself to a whisper by the end. I lightly grasp his hands and pull them off my shoulders.

I hold your hands in front of us for a minute or so, and then let them drop hesitantly. I turn and look at the mess that Darker had left for me and started cleaning things up.

You stood there like a gargoyle. Silent, watchful, and never moving from your place for the whole five hours it took me.