Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Soliloquies ❯ A story fitting of Edgar Allan Poe ( Chapter 5 )

A story fitting of Edgar Allan Poe

He had been in my room. I just fucking know it. Shit. What the fuck is up with that blonde moron?!

I know this for a fact because my copy of Gabriel Garcia Marquez' "Of Love and Other Demons" (placed between my copies of his "Leaf Storm and other stories" and "100 Years of Solitude") keep getting misplaced. I haven't read that book since last year, and nobody ever dares to enter my room, so how the fuck would that book get on my bed, or on the dresser, or the study table? By walking?

Not only that, but someone's been through my drawers too. Not only am I obsessed with cleanliness, but being anally neat goes hand in hand with that peculiar trait. I keep my socks by color, and my boxers the same way. One day my silk boxer just ended up on top of the plain black ones, when I perfectly know I keep it at the back with the colored ones. Also I can tell by the way the inlaid drawers under my bed aren't fully closed (there's a gap, unnoticeable to some, but not to me) that somebody's been through them too.

All these happen the exact same time I noticed Kudou watching me more and more.

And why not Kudou? Ken, for a clumsy foot-in-mouth guy, does not poke his nose into other's business. And Omi is too smart to not put the things back the way they were if he went snooping inside my room. Besides, they both don't have the balls to go inside it anyway. Kudou, on the other hand, pokes his nose, head and the rest of his body into everybody's business and is not smart enough to make the scene of the crime inconspicuous. And, though I am reluctant to admit, he has the balls to go creeping into my room. Sometimes his guts are admirable, most times it's just plain annoying.

This is fast turning into one of those Edgar Allan Poe short stories. I'll just wake up one day with Yohji grinning menacingly at me before he tugs at his wire and slice my head off. Poof. Just like that. That's why he's been staring at me so much; he's fuckin' studying me to know my patterns so it'd be easier for him to devise a plan to kill me. Call me paranoid, but the man's been acting psycho! Try reading Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" and you'll know where I'm coming from. A seemingly perfectly sane man killing another in cold blood after a week of studying him- just because he was pissed with the other guy's `vulture eye'- could happen not just in fiction, trust me.

I must have pissed him off one way or the other. Otherwise, what's the point in killing me right? Unless… he's doing it for the kicks….

Kudou has been unstable for the past month.

Shit.

Now normally I don't mind dying, it's an everyday occupational hazard for the most of us assassins, but it's been a personal rule to fight to live whenever I can, because, well… my sister needs my monetary support. Can't die just yet. Maybe a year after she graduates, then I can die. Also, where's the pride in dying in your sleep by the wires of a teetering-on-the-edge-of-insanity co-assassin? I mean, at least give me a fight wherein I die because he's just too damn good for me, even a dramatic betrayal by a gun, NOT because I failed to notice one of us going psycho on me. No way. No fucking way.

I really should stop reading those suspense/thriller/detective books.