blacksapphiredragon

Johnny paced, unbothered by taunting voice inside his head, over his dust laden, threadbare carpet. The voices in his head had long ago ceased to tell him to kill, tell him to murder, and to drive him closer and closer to insanity. Now, his head was clear, and all that he could think about was those jade eyes. Of that beautiful hair...that clear voice. Of what so very nearly was. His gaze traveled to the knives he had emptied out of his coat. God, there were so many of them...So many awful memories and horrid nightmares. Oh so many empty eyes... He shrugged off his trench coat and walked to the discarded knives, his mind still on Devi. Afte