Mama's Gun

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The slowed down tune heaved its bass through Luke's headphones as he listened to the looped song play from his phone. Sitting at his desk in his bedroom, his mind was in another world; drifting along the melody playing in his ears as he flicked a makeup brush through a puddle of pitch black glitter, the colour of a night sky, on a thin piece of wood to the right of his artwork he was putting together.

A pool of red seeped into the edge of the glitter's pile, scattered sparkles of all different colours glittering across his desk facing the wall of his bedroom—his back to all he owned—and as he swayed his body to the sound of 'Bust Your Kneecaps' the house beyond his closed door flooded with chaos. Screaming and crying merged into smashing furniture bashing against walls and the shattering of glass and porcelain.

A door slammed, followed by a particularly loud harrowing scream, and Luke paused his painting for a moment to pull his right ear's headphone from its place and listen. A once faint sound of whirring gears became significantly louder once he did so, and it took barely seconds to recognise the noise of a violent chainsaw. A woman's gurgled scream ripped through the house, only to be followed by the loud howling of insanity from a younger male.

Luke pulled a face, eyes widening slightly and lips pursed tightly—like that of a teen who had been told a shocking piece of gossip about a dead girl—as he let his headphones sit back in place. His head swayed back to the tune of his music, makeup brush dipped into the pool of red; staining already tainted bristles in blood and gliding it over his makeshift canvas.

A loud shatter tore his senseless art from its serenity, sending black shoes stomping against a dirty white carpet as Luke stood up quickly from his seat and staggered back a few steps; hands pushing black headphones to sit around his neck as blue eyes darted to his now smashed inward window. He waited for a moment, hearing nothing beyond his own family downstairs.

Cautious, Luke approached closer. Careful steps taking him deeper toward the darkness spilling into his room—with ear-piercing screams and maniacal laughter echoing through his home he couldn't help but wonder what kind of freak would decide to break in so late at night. Especially into a home he was certain the police would soon be sending an entire squad to bust into.

He gasped, an instinctive reaction to a dirtied hand that grabbed the edge of his window, soft skin bleeding through the shards of glass it slammed itself down upon; and as the second hand rose to grasp the sill Luke couldn't help but stand frozen with curiosity, watching the stranger's veins twist and turn around the tendons in their hands as they pulled themselves up to the second floor.

"Luci!" A familiar face popped up with a cheeky grin, hazel eyes bursting with life against the horrors of the outside world as he peeked into the home. "Guess who?"

"Ashton." Luke smiled softly, moving toward the climbing twenty year old and helping lift him in through the jagged glass. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't take it no more." Ashton hauled himself up over the window sill and collapsed onto the floor; peering up at Luke.

"Couldn't take what?" Luke helped the smaller male to his feet and Ashton stumbled slightly as he found his balance on Luke's carpet, disregarding the damage it took to get himself inside.
His attention had focused completely upon his crush, eyes sparkling with an obsessive adoration as they locked gazes with the tall nineteen year old.

"I tried to sleep so I couldn't think 'bout you but ma wasn't havin' it." Ashton stated, holding Luke's hands in his own. Blood and dirt smeared over clean pale skin, but Luke didn't mind, he was used to it by now.

"So I killed her and came straight here." Ashton dropped to his knees, hands clutching tighter to his lifeline as his pleading eyes stared up at Luke almost mournfully. "Please don't ever make me leave again, Luci. I ain't ever wanna go through hell without you. Not like that, Luci."

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