Devil On Both Shoulders [Calum Hood]

Chapter 15

"How are you getting home?" I had the curiosity to ask.

"I'm gonna nick one of these police cars. They should be useful, and I'm going to get one of the uniforms."

Although it should have, Calum's plans didn't suprise me, but moreover, I wasn't even against the idea of him stealing the attire of deceased police officers.

As he strode out of the room with legs like scaffolding poles, I gazed around the room, trying to keep the lunch I'd digested earlier from rising from the dead. People; innocent people, lay on the floor, caked in their own blood, and their limbs stuck out like they were on a fairground ride. Although the only person this was fun for was Calum - and sadly that was the way it had always been, or at least for as long as I had known him.

Later on, I had stumbled into Luke's house, flustered and the mental trauma beating my brain like a piñata. I doubt many people have seen such a disgusting act of murder like I did that day, and I can tell you now, it was awful. It made my stomach shrivel, my insides slowly tickled, it wasn't the playful tickling either, it was the feeling when someone's been tickling you for a long time and you're beginning to get tired. I was tired.

"Where were you?" Luke asked the split second I had made myself present in his property. His tall figure stood by his worn couch, which was starting to act like a mirror for me.

His arms folded, he gave me a prodding look.

"I was out," I answered vaguely. At that moment, I severely lacked the capacity and the energy to tell Luke what'd happened - and I honestly didn't think I ever would.

"Is she back?" A concerned voice questioned as Michael jogged into the room.

"You called Michael?" I returned boredly, by now I was already slumped into the couch, it's deflated leather cuddling my body uncomfortably. I eyed my dirty trainers as I spoke, eye contact required the capacity and energy too.

"Of course I called him, you went missing." He snapped. Why was he so tempered? I came back alive, isn't that good enough?

I let out a small chuckle, not tearing my vision from my shoes. "Well that's funny, is it not? Because I don't know if you knew, but I'm already missing." I smiled.

"Why are you so difficult?!" He yelled.

"Why are you so easy?" I returned, the arrogant grin still playing at my lips.

Luke sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "You talk to her," he instructed Michael, much to my annoyance. "I've had enough."

Luke left the room, and Michael took a seat next to me. He studied my face again, and I sussed that it was something he quite liked to do. But one thing I refused to was meet his gaze.

"What happened?" He asked softly, his voice hovering over a whisper.

"Luke turned into a bitch - that's what fucking happened." I growled.

"He just does that because he cares," Michael said.

"Don't care." I scowled.

"If I get you ice cream, will you tell me?"

"Oh, ice cream would sound pretty tempting if I was five years old." I scoffed.

"Please," He whispered.

I was sick to the bone of questioning, and another thing that appeared to be reaching my bones were the walls. They were being sucked in again, and I didn't like it. I didn't like it all.

I rejected Michael's concern and let the morning light smack me in the face as I opened the battered door to Luke's house and made myself scarce.

On my way to wherever, I bumped into Ashton, through his ripped shirt I could see the strips of bandage he had slung across his broad left shoulder.