The Receiving End

Few things are able to make Angel smile, though it's no surprise that collapsing after a rough game and relishing in the high of a match won is one of them. Not even he, stoic as he is, is able to resist the infectious excitement that buzzes around the team. After taking a hockey stick to the mouth, Angel pushed a strong attack on the power play, giving the Seraphim just the edge they needed to score the winning goal. Angel's subsequent victory lap results in a quick series of stitches on the locker room floor.

As his fellow wingman, Niku, hovered over him, the two made an unspoken friendship. As a sign of respect, Niku bought Angel's dinner, and the two have been inseperable pals ever since. It's largely thanks to Niku that Angel doesn't have to suffer the curse of intermission interviews nor sit in between any of the chatty players during team dinners.

How to Confront Fear

Angel's uncomfortable relationship with fire stems from terrible childhood memories, but that doesn't stop him from attempting to overcome that fear. Every now and then, the urge to push past the anxiety consumes him, and Angel can think of nothing else until he snaps the stove to life and gazes at the flames. He has yet to overcome any of his anxieties, however.

Though his attempts have spiraled into a sickening fascination with flame, he's unsure of whether or not he is truly afraid anymore. He chases the stovetop flames with his fingertips, too nervous to get close. If he's ever alone during a smoke break, he fidgets endlessly with the lighter. Though he has yet to injure his hands atop the stove, he hides numerous self inflicted cigarette burns under his long sleeves. His teammates have seen these wounds, old and new, self-inflicted and from prior tragedies, but they don't probe him for any details.

As long as Angel is healthy enough to play, nobody sees any reason to pry into Angel's personal hobbies.

Ending Nightmare

Even as he crashes ever forward towards some semblance of the relationship he desires, Angel knows how painfully everything must end, and his dreams are plagued with fresh fears. The images that flash through his mind are replaced with new ghosts. He struggles to keep himself sane. Not even hockey can distract his tangled thoughts.

Though Angel is no stranger to fear, he never thought he would find a time in his life where he'd be just as afraid of losing someone as of fire. After spending much of his life denying connections and keeping to himself, he fails to contend with his new feelings. No matter how many tries it takes, he will strive to fulfill his beloved's wish. This determination is a devotion to ruin. At least his nightmares revolve around something different now.

Unexpected Delivery

The hum of the fish tank, its lights, oxygen, and filters, have always been a great source of comfort to Angel. Whenever he's faced with a difficult decision, he stands near the tank, watching his fish float around in a trance. Through this contemplation, he's able to see the root of his problems clearly and make the decisions that he needs to. It just so happens that he decides cannibalism is the answer.

It never occured to him that anyone would catch him in the act, let alone that they would willingly offer their flesh to him. Naturally, he finds his way to his fish and the quiet murmuring of the tank. From there, he can clear his mind. From thre he can make a decision. It's the same as it always is. Cannibalism really is the answer.

Respite

There are the rare moments of clarity, unburdened from his intrusive thoughts, where Angel feels at peace. These moments wax and wane as he shares quiet moments with his closest companion. He even finds a way to smile. It is in these times of sincerity and peace that he can pretend a life of normalcy.

While he knows that this taste of tranquility is fleeting, he savors it nonetheless. He is deceptively good-humored and gentle, when not filling his mind with thought of hockey and struggling to avoid intrusive thoughts of violence.

Piano Lessons

Angel had no intention of learning to play, anyway. For only five minutes, tops, did he give any sincere try before caving in to his paper thin resolve. Angel had no idea that pianos could spark such inspiration in him.

He probably shouldn't be left alone near any pianos ever for any reason at any time. Especially not when in the presence of the object of his obsession. At least he has a perfect excuse for holding hands with his crush.

Unlikely Match

Their interests couldn't seem to be any less aligned, yet amidst the fixation lies Angel's sincerist feelings. Angel is a bit too stunted to properly convey his feelings through anything other than his writing, but their silent and unspoken bond is stronger than anything Angel could have ever said. His world irreversably broadened with their meeting, and he refuses to let go.

Meaningful Exchange

Officially becoming a part of each other's lives would be taken very literally by Angel, who is all too eager to share a piece of himself. He'd hoped to make such a connection without even realizing it, but once the idea is planted in his mind's eye, he wouldn't imagine continuing in any other way.

Division Rivalry

Though few and far between, friendships can be formed on the ice that transcend the need for words. Despite playing for opposing teams, Angel learns that he's not the only man with an aggressive tendancy, and he's caught the eye of a fellow wing. Bullying people on the ice is truly something to be bonded over.

Loveletter

After leaving prison, Angel took to writing as a major outlet. With nowhere to put his feelings and no one else to share them with, he started penning anonymous love letters directed at a person he was certain would never exist. Every night, he poured his thoughts through a sieve and collected his distilled adoration onto the paper. Often, through no conscious choice of his own, he'd find himself dipping letter openers into his skin to allow the blood to be his ink. Not even Angel knows why he continues to write these unaddressed pleas for affection.

Conversation

Angel remains long after the game has ended and everyone has left just so he can wind down on the ice with no distractions. There was a lot on his mind, thoughts still ringing with the cacophony of plays. Quietly, Niku stayed with him. They stretched together and shared a scant sample of exchanges- feedback and encouragement. Niku would have stayed longer, likely even gone for a drink, if Angel was willing, but he left once he saw the silhouette lingering at the edge of the rink.

Still in his skates, Angel towered over his stalker and, from the outside, it's doubtful that anyone would notice the finer nuances of their expressions, but they didn't need words for the conversation to take place. Even as Angel's eyes boasted that he scored the winning goal, Eduárd's frown scolded him for tackling the opposing team's defense. Angel smiled. He was proud of that moment, too.

Waiting for the Drop

Nothing captures Angel's focus more than the face off. Regardless of how aloof he acts during the rest of his life, hockey is the sole activity that makes him feel anything other than numbness and discomfort. It's not his fault that he gets a little emotional during matches.

Something To Ease the Worry

If only he could be trapped eternally, Angel would see no better way to live. If his beloved demands it, then there is nothing else to do. With no will other than one of belonging, he allows anything-- all to keep close. He would share every aspect of himself, if he could. Clothes and contact are the simplest price to pay.

Heights and Possessiveness

If Angel could smother him, he would.

Confrontation

There comes a time in all men's lives when they must address their feelings. Refusing to speak unless necessary, Angel stares down his current problem and tries to understand what he feels. Most would be upset to receive body parts in the post and find an intruder entering freely into their homes. Angel isn't so sure. He's certainly unbothered, far from it. He's never looked at another person with as much scrutiny as he looks at Eduárd.

Their dance spins on and on, to the point of his being comfortable with his stalker's presence and even still, Angel has to stop and examin Eduárd in order to better examine his own feelings. It's progressed to the terminal case where Angel is bothered more when Eduárd is nowhere to be found. If Eduárd doesn't come to him, then he is motivated to go to Eduárd instead.

Delusions of Possessive Jealousy

As if he has a reason to fear that Eduárd might find a more suitable courtship outside himself, Angel wrestles with intrusive thoughts of snapping Eduárd's lifespan short, just to keep him from leaving. Sometimes, Angel's feelings are so strong that he considers trapping the guy and locking him away for safe keeping. Against his instincts, of course, for he'd much rather his crush be the one to entrap him.

Despite this anxiety being misplaced and completely absurd, Angel still finds himself fearing that Eduárd might spontaneously waltz into another anthropophagite's lair. Of course, these fears subside in time.

Desperation

The urge to overwhelm and consume; the need to belong together.

Acts of desire, desperation, devotion.

Holy Basin

Has it become delusion? Do either of them understand anything about how they treat each other? Angel reflects and tries to reconcile his feelings time and time again, but he often comes up short on what the proper answers should be.

There is nothing he would deny, and he is perfectly content with the trajectory of their relationship. Dinners and all.

The Suffering Clarity

He's haunted by his own actions. To destroy what he loves the most, to cherish every chance, to savor the flavor; Angel hopes that whatever death he's granted is as painful as what he's inflicted on Eduárd over the span of their companionship. If Eduárd should be the one to die first, then Angel will chase after him as promised. That is the only thing Angel is capable of.

By his own design, he is causing the most direct harm to that which he treasures most. He fears going too far.

Questions With No Answer

He wishes he never asked.

Examination

Eduárd didn't even have to bother with restraining Angel. He wouldn't have resisted after the initial surprise wore off. Still, it feels as if the ritual of binding must be completed for things to feel correct.

Elegy

The temptations that plague Angel bring him to ruin. If there was ever a need for him to resist or make his will known, it would come upon him only in fleeting moments. The times when he struggles against compulsions; when Angel is weak against the demands of others. When he weeps, it's not out of devastation, but guilty satisfaction.

Visitation

Though he should come to expect it, Angel is frequently surprised by just how frequently he is followed and tracked down. He feeds his thoughts on these acts as acts of devotion and he feels himself helpless against their charm. The more Eduárd impedes on his daily life, the more endeared Angel becomes. Especially when he interrupts hockey practice to bring lunch. No one but Eduárd has ever cared enough to bother commiting his schedule to heart, so it's only natural that Angel falls in love.

Another Examination

Investigating any marks left on his belongings must be important to Eduárd. So thinks Angel, at least, who prides himself as being one of those belongings.

He only wishes he was allowed to shower and get comfortable before Eduárd took to whatever examination he wished. Unfortunately for Angel, time operates on Eduárd's schedule and thus being apprehended at inconvenient times is a given.

Indulgence

He can't help himself.

Partaking

As a firmly deluded member of his own world, Angel firmly believes that it is his sole duty to worship Eduárd and nothing will shake that idea loose. Experiencing tranquility and enlightenment can only come from Eduárd's granting, and this makes Angel selfish for all of Eduárd's attention. He would simply die if anyone else ever discovered that the secret to all of life's mysteries has been hiding within his crush's body. No one else may come close to knowing this.

Birdfeeder

The only reasonable response to protecting someone from smothering nightmares is mouthfeeding them blood. Everyone knows this.

And this is an obviously irrefutable fact of life, because it works on Angel.

Avoiding Disturbance

To wake a snoozing stalker would be a crime against the land. Angel would never dream of disturbing Eduárd's slumber, especially when he's lucky enough to find him in his own home. It's akin to winning the lottery.

Eucharist

This is how Angel experiences religious enlightenment.

Losing Consciousness

He feels sick with adoration.

Bloodsick

Both of them at their limits, the idea that Angel wouldn't be able to hold down all that Eduárd feeds him strikes them as a tragedy.

As frantic as he is to do as demanded, Angel endures the upending pain to the best of his abilities. Of course, Eduárd is likely to be in much worse condition than he is, so it is the least Angel can do to endure and do as he's told.

Don't Tap the Glass

It's a game of courtesy. Nothing could be more rude than to acknowledge a stalker's presence. Knowing this, Angel ignores Eduárd for the vast majority of their time together in the early stages of their relationship. Curiosity often gets the better of Angel, though, and he finds himself trying to catch glimpses of Eduárd whenever possible. Whenever Eduárd allows it.

Comfort

Though, he'd really prefer to be the one being held.

Beyond Here

Once it comes down to it, Eduárd is the only person Angel will smile for. Unfortunately, Angel's sense of humor has more to do with committing crimes against humanity and eating his crush. Either he finds cannibalism to be cheeky and hilarious, or he finds it to be a deeply spiritual act to be treated with utmost reverence. And nothing else in between at all.

For Your Consideration

Eventually, even simply touching Eduárd becomes a test in restraint. Angel will tear himself to pieces in resistance of destroying his beloved.

An Effort

In a way, Angel is thankful to have nightmares. The more his sleep is disrupted, the more he can indulge in Eduárd's attention. It is almost a win-win situation.

Embrace

Whatever they get up to, it isn't good.

Call From Darkness

It doesn't matter to Angel anymore, which of them is bleeding. It doesn't matter who is eating whom. It doesn't matter at all. As long as he can continue being useful to Eduárd, then everything will be safe. Angel will be safe. As long as he's trapped under Eduárd's will, everything will be good. Similar mantras repeat like wards in Angel's head whenever the nightmares strangle him.

Slowly

Rarely is there a need for words between them, but Angel still feels compelled to make simple, one-word requests on ocassion.

Safe Space

Under the bed. Away from prying eyes. Within arm's reach. Close and distant. Angel feels at home here.

A Third Examination

It used to spook him, but now Angel welcomes Eduárd's oral intrusions. If he's allowed to lay down during them, he runs the risk of falling asleep, just based on comfort levels alone.

Public Disturbance

Anyone so much as looks at Eduárd wrong and Angel has some violent urges about it.

Exchange

Partaking in each other's flesh is something Angel values greatly. There is nothing that brings him closer to experiencing bliss and spiritual ease than whenever they get up to their ridiculous flesh-eating shenanigans.

Sick

He's left in a daze.

Soft, But Far From Normal

Quiet moments are allowed to occur, despite the usual obsessive, frantic nature of Angel's feelings.

• Klas - Тъгувам По Теб
• Suicide Commando - Menschenfresser (Grendel Remix)
• Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence
• Soma - Grandi Vogar II
• OOMPH - Das Weiße Licht

• Остава - Ще дойдеш ли с мен?
• Gary Numan - Love Hurt Bleed
• Tiamat - 384
• Depeche Mode - Barrel of a Gun
• OOMPH - Fieber
• Moev - Crucify Me
• Depeche Mode - In Chains

Bad Decisions in a Public Restroom

If Antti is left to his own devices for long enough, he will likely embrace his inner gremlin and become an agent of self-harming chaos. He is always willing to party, have fun, and find ways to acrue physical harm. If he can't find someone to do it for him, Antti will find a way to injure himself regardless. Though he knows this is an unhealthy habit, he does nothing to resist it. The sight of his own blood is exciting and thrilling. Being a floozy is just part of the experience.

When he finds himself in a particularly good mood and has found a way to flaunt his inner hussy, he surely finds a way to bombard the object of his affection with plenty of photos. Like a bird flashing its feathers, Antti will flash his bloody decisions with a hopeful gleam in his eye. Hopefully, whoever he's texting is receptive to this sort of courting. Or at least willing to get him back home safely before he resorts to more extreme attention-seeking.

Accepting the End

Patience and forgiveness have their limits. Eventually, even Antti finds it difficult to find reasons to hold onto his inhibitions, and his sense of self preservation sinks into nothingness. He could never confront his habits with any sense of tact, so the only option left is to let himself go. Once the decision is made, he smiles with relief. Unfortunately, this is only one step towards the end.

The more pain he endures, the more relief he feels. If he becomes numb to the pain, he seeks more. It is a neverending cycle that leads him ever forward down an unknown path. He's not sure what he's looking for and he has no clue if he'll find anything else to cling to, but once he's taken the first step, he finds comfort in the lack of self-control. His last aspirations will lead him to beg for the final release.

Tender Loss

There's nothing that Antti wants more than to be understood, accepted, and cared for. His desire for attention and affection drove him into a corner, and with no way out, he turns to desperation. Without knowing the resolution he seeks, he chases an endless cycle of afliction. When it becomes too much to bear, even Antti cracks and loses his spark.

It would be far easier for Antti to endure the stranglehold of his suffering if he had never experienced the intoxication of companionship before. As it stands, he knows now what he's lacking and that detriment towards human connection leaves him vulnerable and empty. With only the nameless void to describe his hunger, Antti seeks whatever warmth he can.

Someone has cared for him, if only for a moment.

Self Destruction

Somehow, this is safer than a lot of other things Antti has done to fill the impending void in his soul. As long as someone is willing to harm him, he's willing to be harmed. He craves the pain to the point of addiction. It drives him to recklessness and closer to the obscene.

Invitation

If he can't find someone else to stab him in the mouth, Antti is more than happy to do it himself. He's certainly no stranger to making out with box cutters and kitchen knives; he'd prefer that someone else held the handle though. The implications are much more relieving to him when it's someone else jamming sharp objects into his body.

A Bleeding Heart Begs

His fingers are so numb and his ears ring so loudly that he can't play anymore.

Currency

No money? No problem! Antti will gladly pay you with the teeth you knock out of him if you give him the kind of beating he desires.

Satisfaction

Of course Antti is still hurting inside and out. There's something critical missing in his life and something severely lacking in his character that leads him down these terrible paths. That doesn't mean he can't find happiness in the little things. He holds himself together in this way. Just for enough time. When the spark fades and his delights aren't enough, he seeks out another willing participant in his debauchery.

• Stam1na - Kadonneet Kolme Sanaa
• Stam1na - Puolikas Ihminen
• Stam1na - Muistipalapelit
• Pendulum - Self vs. Self
• Mokoma - Syyttävä Sormi

• Stam1na - Erilaisen Rakkauden Todistaja
• Stam1na - Likainen Parketti
• VAST - Thrown Away
• Orgy - Stitches
• Kontrust - Personal Rotation

Vulnerability

He's never been able to handle the sight of his own blood. Imre has a steeled resolve when it comes to hunting down ghastly sights, but when the damage is dealt to himself, he feels uneasy. Squeamish. Perhaps he has a hint of a survival instinct. He doesn't like feeling vulnerable in front of anyone, not even himself, and being injured does well to make one feel vulnerable. While his mind often wanders down morbid streets, chasing violent fantasies, he greatly fears and tries to avoid pain. The fear of pain pushes him into the shadows and leads him to keep his fantasies strictly directed at others. Despite that, he often wonders if he wouldn't mind becoming a victim of violent crime himself, only to shake at the very idea. He is far too much of a coward to ever willingly put himself into danger, though his hobbies definitely make it an inevitability regardless. Letting others fall into in danger and even harming them himself gives him no trouble, though.

Loss and Beginning

When his closest friend and mentor died of an untimely heart attack, Imre wondered if he'd lost his gateway into the underworld.

After meeting the man through university, Imre attached himself to the idea of learning all he could from him about art, culture, and where to buy another human. Unfortunately, for as much effort as Imre put into the relationship, the old man had the audacity to die before he even had the chance to ask about any unscrupulous purchasing circles. Both enraged and despaired by the death, Imre found it hilariously hypocritical that his peers gathered and cried over a perverted old man who was almost overtly involved with underaged boys.

The man was repulsive, but Imre valued his knowledge regardless. Imre was, likewise, special to the man. Nobody else at the funeral could say the same, not even members of his own family. Though it never mattered in the end. Imre was hoping to squeeze more information out of the creep before his passing, and now he felt he had to start all over again in his investigations.

Engagement

As much as Imre wants to dive into the dark side of the world, he has much to learn before he knows how to navigate it with confidence. Covering his face, wearing dark clothes, going to such lengths as scraping off his own fingerprints... In his own misguided way, Imre did all he could to keep his identity protected, should he be caught attempting to sit in on a pleasant snuff session.

Breaking and entering is the only strategy Imre knows, and it works with only semi-reliance. While he has discovered, through various methods, where lowlifes tend to congregate, he doesn't always find anything of sincere value. Thanks to what he learned from his old mentor, he knows now that the world is full to the brim of vile people and a metric load of victims just hidden beneath the veneer of society. And he has learned the telling signs of how to sniff out those who may float around these circles, but that doesn't mean he's welcome or invited to any of their meetings and filming sessions. He can't find exactly what he's looking for with every outing, but he becomes more and more accurate with each adventure. As he rebuilds his connections and learns what he can, the need to be covert becomes less viable and necessary than other survival tactics. Imre's need for art comes with heavy risk.

Choices

Not every instance of a snuff film leads in death, but the kinds that thrill Imre do. Out of curiosity, he trailed after the remains of a victim and found the site of the body's unceremonious abandonment. Thankfully for him, it was only a short distance from where the crime itself was committed. Having drawn the body's last moments only hours prior, Imre feels a surreal sense of responsibility and kinship with the corpse.

Secretly watching groups as they torture innocents is already enough of a risk for him, but calling the authorities and alerting everyone to a nameless found body is a different risk entirely. He doubts it's even the right thing to do, anyway. The death already happened, so why would it matter if the body is discovered or not? Why should Imre stick his neck out for someone who is already dead? Would the killers be able to track Imre down if he called the cops? Would they find Imre complicit and arrest him eventually as well? What would his parents think? As he mulls over this ethical quandry, he indulges in a chocolate bar. Ever since his father caught him smoking, and slammed a candy bar into his face instead, Imre found the habit to stick and always finds himself stuffing his face with chocolate any time the urge to smoke returns.

Outlet

What frees Imre from his disturbing thoughts and wild imagination is his indulgent art. He transcribes the suffering of others in their final moments, hidden in the pages of his favorite books. Unseen and unknown, with art that will never be viewed by anyone but himself. The art is purely for himself alone.

Imre can never outrun his morbid curiosities and anxieties, but he can capture them and imprison them on paper. There are even rare occasions where Imre will sketch a self-invented murder fantasy and find himself so enraptured by his own drawings that he gives himself anxiety attacks. Regardless, each snuff drawing is a confession, one of his complicit bystanding while horrors happen to those around him. But the drawings that become self portraits tell a story of waking nightmares, where his fantasies feel painfully vivid and shock him out of focus. At least until he can scribble them out and declutter his mind, starting the cycle anew.

Weakness

It turns out that Imre isn't as cut out for the job of torturer as he'd like to be. Humans are shockingly resilient and difficult to wrangle into place without trauma. Because Imredoesn't bear any malice or aggression for the victims, he struggles to do the job properly.

He wasn't usually the kind of guy to bite off more than he could chew, but this is one instance in a series of many where he learns the hard way that his cowardice extends even past himself. His hesitation nearly costs him his safety as well as his anonymity. The mistakes he makes haunt him in the form of brutal repurcussions. It's one thing to be in danger of being killed for senseless entertainment, but a whole different problem when avoiding being killed for ruining the goods. It is with much regret that Imre must report how unfit he is to being a murderer.

Solace

A church is the safest place Imre can think of to hide or have a nap. Not that he would have any basis for this concept, since neither he nor his parents were ever religious. But it feels right, that a church be a haven. Not just for those who seek comfort, but those who lose their way and stumble in on accident. Whatever his reasons for initially wandering into the grounds, he decides to return, even when he doesn't need the escape. He is drawn to the place, and drawn to temptations stirred around the books and the pages that beg to be scribbled in. A public place, hiding in plain sight. Somewhere perectly reasonable to be, but feeling restrictive at the same time. He wouldn't dare be followed into such a place by anyone that would harm him. Imre feels safer here than in his own home and the mistakes that chased him here feel distant as childhood memories.

In Need of Guidance

It took an innumerable amount of attempts before Imre finally understood how to use the confessional. Once he finally took the plunge, he found himself unable to stop the torrent of words as they streamed out. Once he was used up and empty, Imre ran out and filled himself with more horrors. And he returned to the confessional to vomit them back out. Over and over again, Imre repeated this cycle. He devoured torment after torment and spewed it out whenever they became too much.

Soon enough, the booth became a place of fantasy and comfort as he surrounded himself with the cloak of his voice. It didn't matter anymore if anyone was on the other side of the booth listening or not, though he certainly had his hopes. He comforted and excited himself with the worst of his experiences, the stories stirring both anxiety and happiness within.

Amends

The family trip had been an attempt at a peace offering. After the his mother discovered for a second time that he had been involved with an older companion, she couldn't contain her worry. They fought. Though it was never fully disclosed just how involved Imre had been with his professor, there were more than enough clues for his mother to piece together her own rendition of the story. She meant to protect him. She was afraid. Imre couldn't stand all her questions. He hated the way she spoke about his closest friend. Of course he already knew the man was a creep. But the way her tone cascaded and chided upset Imre down to his heart.

"You married a man over 20 years older than you, what's the difference?" He lashed out at her. Barely out of his teens, she still viewed him as her dearest child. "You and dad managed, why can't I?" She wanted to explain that things were different. They were both full adults. That he wasn't a perverted weirdo. Imre didn't want to hear any of it.

Not wanting to disrupt the family further, Imre's mother organized a vacation for the three of them. She just wanted to put the hurtful comments behind them and see her son smile again. Like he used to. She never told her husband what they argued about. She didn't want to add fuel to the hurt. Somewhere along the trip, Imre opened up again. If only a little. He laughed so hard he cried and the next day, he cut off most of his hair and started styling it differently. She worried for her son, but didn't address this change and instead focused on making the vacation as joyful as possible.

Echoes in an Empty Room

It didn't matter anymore, if Imre confessed his vile thoughts to a listening ear or a vacant lot. He felt safer in the booth than anywhere else, so it only felt right to use it whenever he needed to get things off his chest. He still addressed his concerns to the priest, as anyone might address their journals 'dear diary'. 'Papke úr'. His idle hands wandered as he whispered his secrets.

"Help me. Save me."

"Cut open these bruises and drink the pain until there's nothing left."

His confessions turned into pleas. Time bled away from him as he kept himself locked away in the private studio. Not that Imre had an easy time of knowing the day anymore, anyway. He couldn't return home looking like he did. He lied about staying with friends and working on art projects. His mother accepted the lies with sad smiles. She didn't want to fight again. She didn't want to know anymore. She wouldn't have known that Imre was seeking refuge in a church.

"I wish I was strong enough to be the one in control." Imre piled on fantasy after fantasy, blending his real observations with what he wished to be true. Always addressing the priest, whether or not he was even there. "I wish I had the strength to take down someone like you."

Without any conscious effort, his wandering hands always found their way. Speaking out loud the visions in his head stirred discomfort. Bordering on laughter, panic, or flight, Imre struggled to control his breathing or make sense of anything he was doing. He was a slave to his confessions, unable to free himself until he finished. The stories left him vulnerable. He would always seek out more and he would always return to seek audience with the booth.

Echoes in an Empty Room

His thoughts wander down the route of fantasy and he lets his imagination run rampant. For some reason, Imre can't think of a better place to get carried away than inside a confessional booth. If there were ever a place where Imre should absolutely not be allowed, it would be church, coincidentally. He takes to being a good church boy a bit too enthusiastically, and when he isn't concocting ridiculous fantasy scenarios, he's doodling the priest in whichever copy of the bible he's able to get his hands on.

• The Gazette - DISTORTED DAYTIME
• NAZA - Senkid Vagyok
• Breton - Got Well Soon
• Legove - Plume
• Mastodon - More Than I Could Chew
• Porcupine Tree - Blackest Eyes
• Depeche Mode - You Should Be Higher
• Tallah - Overconfidence

• Drab Majesty - Oxytocin
• The Smiths - What Difference Does it Make?
• The faint - I Disappear
• Depeche Mode - Lie to Me
• Mastodon - Peace and Tranquility
• Mastodon - Teardrinker
• Mastodon - The Motherload
• Depeche Mode - Corrupt

Brilliant Colors to Attract Prey

There is no harm in imitating others to obtain affection from someone who doesn't notice you. One inocuous comment later, and Lasse is doing all he can to become someone that Antti is drawn to. If Antti likes the way Dave smells like cigarettes, then Lasse will be dead certain to buy the same brand and give up his pipedream of quitting. If Antti likes the eyeshadow Linnea wears to work, then Lasse will do his best imitation of it. Lasse unknowingly struggles to gain the affection of a man who would not hesitate to give it to him by means of stealing other people's homework. He's too tone deaf to notice that he already won Antti's attention.

Aching Endless Breath

More intimate than a kiss, Lasse allows Antti to survive only from what he provides him, be that food, warmth, or the literal air he breathes. He is keenly aware of just how devastatingly Antti needs him, and he uses this to his advantage. He fought himself into the only space he could within Antti's heart, and once there he built walls and padding so that no one else could join him. There could be no room in Antti's mind but for Lasse. Succeeding at becoming the sole occupant of Antti's life, he took pleasure in destroying Antti from within.

No matter how vulnerable Antti is, Lasse is relentless and feels nothing for his suffering. The depths of Antti's despair and loneliness erupt into a raging wall of fire before he knows it, and Lasse is the only one there to provide any semblance of comfort. No matter what depths Lasse sinks himself into, he is determined to drag Antti down with him.

Unexpected Resistance

Never once did he ever think that Antti would lash out at him in return. Lasse has size on him, for sure, but Antti hits much harder.

Dark Corners

Navigating places better left alone is one of Lasse's hidden skills. It was only a matter of time before his day job and penchant for being a terrible person ultimately led to him becoming a fledgling drug dealer. To top it off, Lasse has the reckless idiot lack of fear that one would expect from a toddler. It's a miracle he doesn't have his ass kicked more often than he does.

Refreshing

Why is it that Antti begs to be hurt and then immediately takes back the offer? This leaves Lasse looking like the asshole despite his heartfelt intentions. He has every right to bring retribution down Antti's neck, especially since the floozy has been asking for pain for so long. And Lasse would rather die than let anyone else be the one to stab Antti for any reason. Call it possessiveness.

Lasse calls it love. Antti wouldn't disagree, but he still runs from him. Before it got so bad, Lasse would have believed that whatever they had was perfect. Everything was perfect. Wherever things strayed, Lasse was determined to center their lives back on the right track. He would take Antti with him no matter what.

• Porcupine Tree - Way Out of Here
• VAST - Pretty When You Cry
• Katatonia - Ghost of the Sun
• The Cure - Apart

• OOMPH - Gekreuzigt
• OOMPH - Wenn Du Weinst
• Bloodred Hourglass - Of Course I Still Love You
• Celldweller - Symbiont