The Bad Ones

by Stylo Fantome

Something bad was going to happen that night.

“Oh my god! So like, it was a thing! Oh my god, he got in trouble that night, didn't he? Oh my god, what if he hadn't? What if you two had gone out? What if you were like meant to be together and have a hundred babies and that night ruined it?

“Oh my god he's totally in love with you you should go have all the babies with him.”

This night just gets better and better. Why did I come here again? Oh yeah, cause Constantine fucking Masters dared me to.

“I love it. Because I didn't want to fuck some guy up against a tree in the woods, I'm the weirdo. I'm the loser. Good luck with your hopes and dreams, Frannie. I hope they're easy to accomplish while you're laying on your back.” Jared's jaw dropped open. Frannie started hissing and yelling.

And Constantine, well. He just kept on smiling. Just kept pouring salt in the wound.

Wishing for a boy to like you. Wishing to run away. Wishing for magic. You are so tragically young, it's not even funny.

What's wrong with me? What do I want? Why can't I push past this … this curtain in my head. Like a black curtain, just blocking everything until I pick up a pencil. I need my sketchbook to see anything. I need something, I need -

“Please, baby ...” “I am not your baby,” she growled through clenched teeth, then she reached out, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling. “I should fucking kill you. Fucking touching me. For even thinking you could touch me. Disgusting. Don't even look at me when I walk away.”

“He fucking touched you,” Con was gasping for air as he finally stepped back from the damage. “No one is allowed to touch you. I can't believe he fucking touched you.”

“Did he touch you?” Dulcie knew he wasn't asking about the homeless man. “Not in any way that counts,” she replied, turning to look at him. His hands had moved to grip the steering wheel. “So he has touched you.” “Jared was just an experiment, I wanted to see if -” “You let him fucking touch you.” “You fucking left me!”

And there's all these people, and talking, and feeling this way, and all the blackness, and I don't even know what's wrong with me, and nothing. You come back, and it's like nothing to you. Oh hey, Dulcie. Where's your sketchbook, Dulcie. Come to a party, Dulcie. Let me just fuck this chick in the woods, Dulcie. So you know what? Yeah, he fucking touched me. I let him fucking touch me. And I hated every minute of it, and I would pretend it was you, and I would hate you, and I would hate myself, and I just let it happen.”

“Stupid little Dulcie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her lips. She held onto his wrists and glared at him, but didn't try to pull away. His fingers got tighter. “So scared of the big bad wolf.” “I'm not … scared of you,” she managed to gasp out, but then his grip grew so tight he completely cut off her oxygen. “Of course you aren't scared of me. I'm not the wolf. You are.”

So that's what was hiding behind the curtain. I wish you'd told me sooner, Con. We could've reveled in our darkness together.

Con was the darkness, and she was simply drawn to it. Basking in his wake. But that was a lie – she was every bit as dark as him. They were the same animal. She'd just been better at deceiving herself. And now they'd evolved into something else, into a new, higher being.

“It's not nothing,” he breathed, his tongue tracing along the lace of her bra. “You weren't nothing.”

“You didn't sleep with Frannie up there,”

“No. She followed me. I was watching you,” he replied, reaching around to unhook her bra. It joined his shirts.

“You should do less watching, more talking.”

“Was he ever inside you? Did you let him fuck you?” “No.”

“I thought about this,” he was breathing in her ear as his hips picked up speed. “In high school. While I was away. When I was looking at your pictures.”

“All the time. I think about this all the time,” she whispered back.

“Look at me,” he growled, and his hand painfully gripped her jaw, forcing her head up to face him. “God, you look amazing when you cry.”

“Oh my god, Constantine,” she whispered. More like prayed. All the coldness was gone from her body, finally, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he ripped her apart. Just like she'd always wanted.

“Such a good girl, Dulcie. You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?” he sighed, leaning close to kiss along the side of her neck. She was whimpering and moaning, and when another tremor shook her, she heard him groan, as well. “Yes.” “Any time I asked, too.” “Yes.”

“I like that. Right now, though,” his voice was getting breathless. The hand in her hair pulled tighter and his hips thrust harder. The pain was dull now, but the pleasure, good god. That was sure to kill her. “Anything,” she cried out. “Anything you want.” “I think it's time for you to come.”

“I can't believe we just did that.” “What, killed a man?” “No. I can't believe we just fucked in your truck.” Con laughed.

“We really did this. This actually happened,” he informed her. She stopped smiling. “I know, Con. I know it did.” “And I don't care. I don't care that we killed him. Not even a little bit.” “I know.” “That doesn't bother you? That I'm fucking crazy?” he checked. She shook her head. “No.” “Why? Why has that never bothered you? You've always known it, right?” he kept going.

Dulcie stared up at him. This boy, this man, that she barely knew, but somehow knew all too well. “It doesn't bother me,” she said in a soft voice, “because I'm pretty sure I'm just as crazy. Maybe crazier. At least you knew what was going on inside your head. I didn't … I didn't know I could do something like this.”

“I knew I was fucked up, and I knew … I knew something was going on with you. With us. And I thought I'd just fuck you up, too. I didn't want that, so I went away. I come back, and look what happens. I don't want to be responsible for you, Dulcie. I don't want to be the thing that wrecks you,” he tried to explain. She finally laughed again.

“Stupid boy, I was wrecked long before you showed up.”

“You're goddamn amazing, you know that, right?” he breathed. “Tell me why.” “Because you helped me kill a man.” “That's it?” “And you're the more beautiful thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.” “Hmmm, good, but still not amazing.” “Because you were made for me,” he whispered, his forehead against hers. “And you didn't even know it. I had to show it to you. That's the most amazing part, right there.” “Now you're catching on.”

She was still sore and he was still too big, but she loved the pain. Loved that he was the cause of it. This time when she came, she left welts on his back.

Con explained how he'd always felt the need to do something like what they'd done; that things just didn't matter to him. He'd rather remove something than deal with it, and people most definitely fell under the category of “things”. Dulcie explained how she'd never much cared for people anyway, and cared even less about how they felt or what they thought. She saw them more like cattle.

While she'd never particularly wanted to kill anybody, she also didn't care that she'd done it. That, Con told her, was one of the things he found particularly attractive about her.

Though really, the first time we come together, and we kill somebody. God knows what would've happened if we'd had a year to operate together.

“He wants you.” “I know.” “Has he ever touched you?” “No.” “If he ever does, I'll kill him.”

“I know,” she whispered, then she leaned forward and placed a quick kiss to his lips. “I'd kill anyone who hurt you.” “And that's one of the things I find particularly attractive about you,”

“You can't tell anyone about what happened.” “Of course not. I don't want to go to jail.” “If anyone comes asking about it, you don't know anything.” “I don't even know what you're talking about.” He laughed again, but only for a moment. “A secret. Between us. Promise me. This is just between us.”

“Only us,” she whispered, then dug her nails in and dragged them down his back. He hissed as she reopened the wounds. “It's only ever us, Dulcie. Now, yesterday, tomorrow. Whenever. You get that, right? You believe that?” “Of course I do, Constantine. Of course I do.”

Constantine would hate this place. But his opinion didn't matter. Because she hadn't seen or spoken to him in almost three years.

They had killed a man. Then he'd taken her virginity in the front seat of his truck. Afterwards, they'd buried the body, then they'd gone back to his place and talked all night.

Silly girl, it didn't mean anything. Just because you shared a moment of darkness di...

Dulcie could endure all of it, though, because in her mind, Con would come back to save her.

But he didn't come back. Fall came and went. By the time Christmas showed up, Dulcie was losing her mind. She dreamed about blood, all the time. Blood and darkness.

She was a badass. She was goddamn invincible. She wouldn't cry over Constantine Masters. She would forge her own path. Her curtain had been ripped away – it was time to find out who she really was, with or without him.

And sometime, late at night, when there was a full moon, she would walk along the train tracks and pray for something to come out of the shadows.

“The Ice Queen dated someone, oh my god!” he joked, pressing a hand over his heart. “I did. Worst five minutes of my life. Now hurry up with those, don't give her anymore ammunition.”

Jesus, Con, took you long enough to come back, you idiot. Now hurry up and find me again.

He'd told her it was only them, regardless of the time and distance apart, and he'd meant it. So if it took him three years to find his way back to her, then that's simply how long it took.