Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ White Noise ❯ Mental Playground ( Chapter 4 )

Insane. I'm going insane. I shoulda seen the signs. First, my brain won't shut up, it's like a German tank just keeps rolling around my brain making everything kinda hard to distinguish. Next, I'm starting to hear voices. How could I have missed these things? A cat. A cat?! Cats do not walk up to you and say, "Excuse me sir, but do you happen to have the time?" That was not a cat I heard. Hell, the day a cat does walk up to me and talk to me will be the day I chop off my hair and settle down.

Just the thought of cutting my hair makes my gut clench. I love my hair. Nope, not getting it cut.

But, what was it that I heard? Well, okay, I didn't so much hear hear it. It was more like…I dunno what it was like, but it was not pleasant. In fact, it was very discombobulating. Man, I need this brandy to start its magic. Oh wait, it already has. Oops, it's kinda bad when I don't see the effects of a whole bottle of brandy cause I'm too deep in thought about my impending insanity.

Now, just gotta manage the stairs. Huh, kinda tilty. I can manage this. The wonder of crawling on all fours. Not very dignified, but it's A better than breaking my neck and B wait…was there a B? Aw hell, doesn't matter. Onto all fours I go.

//Mmm, I agree, all fours is best.//

I stop. I freeze and I feel like some kind of bunny caught in a corner. I feel not too steady and extremely vulnerable. But, I am kinda relieved. I mean, now I have complete proof that I'm cracking up. Wonder if Kritiker's got a health plan for the certifiable.

I decide that freezing on the middle of my way up the wobbly stairs and contemplating my descent into insanity is probably not the best way to go about this whole thing. I should probably get up, and get into my room, then contemplate. If I don't pass out first. Hmm, passing out sounds like a really good option. So tired. Okay, just like uhh… some amount of steps left. No voices at the moment. I'd say, all in all, I'm doing good.

I finally see my doorway come into view. It looks like an oasis to me at the moment. How pathetic is that? When a doorway looks like some kind of salvation. Woo, yeah, I'm on the brink.

Getting into my room, I shut the door with my foot, after having crawled through the hallway. Yup, crawling is a good thing. Especially since my room's decided to take a rather vicious swerve to the left making me fall onto my face. At least it wasn't too big a fall, with my face already being halfway to the carpet anyway. One hand in front of the other. Damn, I think I may have a bruise on my lip tomorrow. Stupid floor, having to be so hard and uhh hard and floor like!

"Oh yeah, you tell that floor Yohji." I slur out to myself. "Stupid voices. Stupid floor. Stupid Ken for, well, Ken didn't really do anything, but he's still stupid. And stupid me for not having a nice date that could get me laid."

I know I continue this litany all the way till my bed, and all the way under the covers. But for the life of me, I have no idea what I'm saying. Oh well. Mmm bed, comfy comfy bed.

++++

How many people can say that the job they have is both something they're good at and something they love? My job happens to be such a job. More of a career really, as I've been fucking with people's heads all my life. Which could be why I'm so adept at it. Either way, I've got a job that lets me have fun and pays a shitload for it. So, who could blame me if I play a bit out of bounds of my job? Crawford for one. But s'long as I don't do anything too drastic to his ever growing plan to do whatever it is he's bent on doing he won't mind. Yeah, right, Stick-Up-My-Ass Crawford not minding something. That'll be the day.

Ah, but playing with the kittens is one of my favorite things to do in my free time. What little of it I have. Luckily, lack of free time doesn't bother me much, considering that fucking with Weiss's collective head is a part of my job description. The best kitten to screw with is the little Balinese kitten. His mind's like crystalline sex. His body's not too shabby either. Guess killing people does have a tendency to keep a guy in shape. And you gotta love any guy who wears a second skin tank top to kill people.

Takin' him'll be a joy. Unfortunately, I'm not the only one who's seen Balinese's "better points." I think I'll just have to pay Siberian a visit. After, of course, the one I'll be paying to Kudoh's dreams tonight. A drunk mind is so heartbreakingly simple to warp. Especially if it's already been slowly warped over the past few weeks. I can have patience when I want. Good thing Crawford doesn't know that. Oh well, just one more thing I have over him, though the whole "I know your future, Schuldig" thing really does cramp my style. Eh, what's a guy to do?

Oh, I know, go into someone else's dream and fuck `em till they can't see straight. Sounds like a plan.

I reach out with my mind, making sure I'm as alone as I think I am. In a house with three other whack-jobs, I'm definitely not as alone as I sometimes fake myself into believing. But, I don't pick up anything beyond the normal swirl of Naoe's and Farf's sleeping thoughts and the cold spot of Crawford's walls. One day I'll break through those, but I've more important business at hand. Wait up for me Kudoh, I'll be there in a few.

Then again, being as drunk as I've helped him get, he won't be able to wake up even if he wants to. Love that brandy, almost as much as he does. Hmm, what shall I do to him tonight. Do I feel like this being a mutual consensual experience? Possibly. Might be even more fun that way. He'll hate himself even more for it, if I choose that particular route.

I climb into my bed, clothes off, fluff up my pillows for maximum comfort, and make sure that the people I think are asleep still are. Paranoid? Never.

I think I just wanna play with him for as long as I can, then make `im forget in the morning. Yeah, I wanna drag this out as long as possible. And I want to make sure he can't push my "visits" off as another proof of insanity, or drinking. Though it's fun to make him doubt his sanity, it'd be much more fun to watch him tear himself apart about wanting me, even though he's Weiss and supposedly straight as a ruler.

Gotta remember to make sure I have enough time to leave a little something in Siberian's head. He will not ruin this for me. I'll make sure of that.

I turn off my light, having decided that this encounter definitely needs to be all about domination. Maybe I'll help him remember it some other time. But for now it'll just be a niggling thought a the back of his head in the morning. Part of the hangover. I love my job.