Zack Foster Fanfiction- The Color Red // Angels of Death Anime

c r a s h

Three fucking weeks without sunlight.

Three fucking weeks without fresh air or..

Red.

It's been exactly three weeks without her, or so I heard that's how long I've been in this shit hole.

I don't fucking know what I want anymore. The dreams are all the same- I can feel her and shit but I cannot taste her. She is soft but not warm.. her fucking hair isn't as annoying either...and she,

never touches my face.

She pulls my hair to bring me close, she moans and tells me she loves me and lets me fuck her over and over again but it isn't real. Fuck, it feels so good but it is nothing like the two times I did have her. So many things I could have done then.

I was learning what to do with her and make her feel good and for what? To just dream again and only wake up to the memory of that stubborn bitch?

Only fucking memories.

"I don't have shit." Is what I tell the guard who just asked me if I have my shit packed. The fuck did bringing anything with me matter anyway? I was going to die either way.

"Wrists out." He barks out the order and I grit my teeth. Fucking bastards. Always bossing you around and grabbing you to toss and shove you wherever they want. Fucking-

"Foster, wrists o-"

"I fucking heard you." I growl and drop my goddamn hands through the same space between two bars. There's two clicks, but the fucker tightens the metal clasps really damn close that it's uncomfortable. I pretend I don't give a shit though.

"Glad I won't ever have to see your sorry ass again." He tells me, causing me to side eye him. Feelings fucking mutual.

When I feel him still staring at my face through the bars- I want to stomp on his jaw. So damn hard that his skull breaks and flattens against the ground.

"Fuck are you staring at?!" I snap.

"Your scars are gnarly. Were you dropped in boiling water as a kid?"

My jaw tightens up. I still have not gotten used to people seeing me fucking bare. It's been three weeks having to deal with stares and have them grabbing at my bare arms. It feels wrong having skin touching me.

Red never touched me..

I forget about the asshole in front of me, who is watching me like a dumbass waiting for me to tell him why i'm like this. I wonder what Red would have thought of my scars. Fuck, would she be grossed out? I would because I can't stand them myself. Showering is a bitch because I have to feel all the fucking lumps and scars- and it's my own fucking skin. Red would have hated them, probably found me so goddamn ugly she'd never fuck me again.

I almost laugh at that.

"You actually landed a girl looking like that?"

Now he was just pissing me off.

"Contact his wife. She should know that her husband will not be arriving home."

I try to keep my eyes close, resting my head against the cold wall of this holding cell. The front of the stupid jumpsuit i'm wearing is soaked with blood. Blue mixing with red and shit.

"This asshole again?! Who was it? Who's married here...Gibbs?"

"No, it was Lawson."

"What?! Didn't he just get married?"

I wanted to drill screws into my fucking ears because they would not stop fucking talking about the fucking guy. A loud bang goes off, like the guard was ramming his fist against the cell bars.