Chapter Text
His screeches and cries were deafening, endlessly echoing through out the vast room, hitting you from all angles. You winced, taking a hand up and covering one of your ears, the other hand grasping onto a knife that was digging its way into his chest.
He was rather pathetic when it came to pain, though once being stabbed before – he was a disappointment in that department, really. No matter what it was, he would always be crying and begging for you to stop, pleading and bargaining you with things. But it was all too late for that. Far too late.
The things he promised were sweet, things that you undoubtedly would have accepted at an earlier date. But now. You only listened to his fake promises, keeping your head straight and mind set on the moment. You wanted him to suffer.
The knife you were holding was gliding across his pale chest, delicately slicing through layers and layers of protective skin. Too bad it wasn’t enough to protect him from you.
The layers were evenly sliced at, blood beautifully seeping out and dripping down his exposed and frail form. The lines of pure red were, in your opinion, absolutely gorgeous.
"Look at that, Karkat.” You spoke, voice a little hoarse. “See how beautiful you are?” You pointed out, trying to make him focus on the marks across his abdomen. He glanced down at it and then hissed, moving his head to the side quickly, a few thick beads of tears rolling down his red cheeks.
"Karkat.” You said, voice deeper and more aggressive. When he didn’t respond, you grabbed him by the side of his face and made him stare into your eyes. You looked deep within the bright pink spheres, their colour close to being the deep red of his precious blood.
You gave him a pitiful and almost defeated sigh, lips in a small curve. “Please, look at yourself.” You said, closing your eyes with a small sigh, letting go of his face. He then knew he couldn’t disobey and slowly looked down towards his chest.
You could see him becoming lightheaded, how he lightly swayed after getting a good look at the streams of red rolling down his porcelain body.
“Those marks, if I work at them hard enough,” You said, standing up straight, walking around to the back of your little brother. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, tracing the slashes on his skin with a finger. “They can become bigger, and turn into puffy, pink, pearlescent scars.”
He let out a cry, shutting his eyes tight and whimpering, letting the mountains of held back tears flow down his cheeks. Some rolled down his chin and dripped into his injuries below, making him loudly gasp and hiss.
"...you’ll be so, perfect, Karkat.” You cooed, gently bringing the knife in your hand up to his neck, gently pressing the blade down. You could feel him wanting to writhe out beneath you, get away from your grasp and run and run. But he wouldn’t, and he knew that you knew he wouldn’t. If he moved even an inch, the knife would cut into his throat and end it all.
But then again. Maybe it would be better that way.
"...Kankri."