It had grown colder at the shore, since Norm had last been there. He hadn't grown any more careful, though - just like last time, he was shuffling through the sand in his bare feet, despite what sharp bits of trash might be hidden there. He was holding his sneakers by their laces in his left hand. The sun was well on its way down, but the top inches of the sand were still warm underfoot. Sand dusted his jeans halfway up to his knees, and had somehow gotten into his red-black hair as well. His right hand was tucked into the front pocket of his deep-blue hoody, to shield it from the chill wind coming off the water.

"Nice out here,..." he mumbled to himself. He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of the waves smashing and rushing back from the sand. One would never be able to tell it from the grim expression on his face, but Norm was actually enjoying himself. Being out here made him forget that anything was or ever would be wrong. It was like the water swallowed up anything in him that made him feel angry or hurt or sad. It even made him forget the ugly new burn marks drawn into his skin - but that could just be because the cold wind had numbed them.

Despite how calm the waves had made Norman, they managed to make Logan angrier instead of stilled. How could he possibly be angry? Criss was safe and he had him to care for, he had Jibril, food and a warm bed. So why wasn't he happy?

He just wasn't. Because life was shitty when the people he cared for weren't around. Because he was thinking about his mother and the bitter cold wind reminded him of her words.

He was wet from the waist down and simply standing in the way of the waves, a shadowy figure against the barely lit beach. Black pants, baggy. Black longsleeved shirt, also baggy. The clothing seemed to swallow his small figure.

People came out at this beach late at night he knew, 'because it was nice' or relaxing. Whatever he heard people say. That was just a bunch of garbage.

His black and white hair was done into several tiny braids and the rest left down, slightly rustling in the wind. He turned when he saw another figure out of the corner of his eye.

New victim. He didn't care what he looked like.

"Hi." Sweet voice, cold and deadly looking eyes.

Who...?
Norm looked up, blinking owlishly. Damn, just when he thought he was alone...

"Oh. Uh,... hi," he replied, trying not to sound like he was irked by the boy's presence. He stopped his slow trudge across the sand, but didn't move any closer to Logan, intending to show that he was only going to stop to talk for a minute or two, to be polite.
"What's up?"

Logan wasn't up for idle chit chat. His youthful looking face was near blank with frightening seriousness. He walked at a casual pace out of the water, his pants soaked and salty. Both his pants and feet attracted sand that turned muddy and disgusting mixed with water.

"Your turn to die." How straightforward.

A blow to the stomach with a force that's unnatural... with an elbow that's not even physically there.

Norm collapsed to his knees, choking and wrapping his ams protectively around himself.

"..w...w, what.." he gasped, peering at Logan with a look of utter bewilderment etched on his face. He dropped his sneakers on the ground and staggered to his feet, still hugging one arm protectively over his midsection. What the bloody hell just happened?!

"Shit happens, that's what." He snarled, kicking Norman so he was lying flat on his face in the sand. He was stepping on his back now.

"And you're going to die."

Knives, dozens of them, would seem to stick into Norman. Still nothing was visible, except maybe the blood...

Die? No!
Norm gasped for breath as he was thrown to the ground, inhaling sand. He spent the next moment coughing it out. Whats happening? Why's he doing this How is he doing this, he's just a kid and-
His thoughts were abruptly cut off as he felt the invisible knives stab into him. As his lungs had been emptied of breath by spitting out sand, he didn't have any air to scream with. Instead, his whole body spasmed violently, twisting like a snake dropped onto hot coals. Blood was smeared onto the sand in dark blots, shining momentarily before sinking in.

"I can hear you, you know. And I'm not a kid. I'm nearly sixteen." All of this was said in a fairly casual tone as if he were talking to a friend over coffee. He pressed harder onto Norman's back, crushing it and his ribs with his weight.

"I should be insulted." He spat.

I can hear you, you know.

No! You can't! Youre not him, you can't!
A wave of terror rushed through his mind, imprinting itself into everything withn ten meters of him. Norm managed to drag breath back into his body, but it was only kept long enough for him to let it all out agan, in a piercing, ragged scream as the sharp cracking of his bones reached his ears. Tears joined the smears of blood on the sand, and any coherent thoughts in his head were replaced by bright flashes of pain.

"Of course I can. I see you're in denial, hm? Poor thing." He felt the terror, didn't say anything. He only smirked. How pleasant. As demonstrated with a previous victim he thrived off all of the negative emotions they felt. Fear, anger, it was fuel for the fire of his own rage.

"You're... different." He pulled at the hood on his sweatshirt, attempting to choke him.

"Tell me... what's your name?"

Norm gagged, and tried to stammer out hs name, with the absurd hope that if he did as Logan wanted, he'd be left alone. He couldn't manage to say it aloud, but he did think it, which was the same thing. His thoughts came in shorts bursts, like gasps.
Norman.

Why are you doing this to me? What have I done?
I didn't do anything wrong...

"Your full name." He yanked harder on the sweatshirt hood this time since Norman's hair was not long enough where he'd be satisfied pulling it. He drove his heel further into his back.

"Nothing. I just need to be angry at someone."

"N,..n..." he choked out, trying to say it this time. He couldnt, however. He just let out a groan, and thought it.

Norman Eliott Peters.

...
Why?

"Say it louder." He leaned over and grabbed his wrist, twisting it with his other hand while one hand remained choking Norman. The knives dug deeper.

"say it." Not think it.

He didn't answer his question.

Why?

"N,.. Norm," he managed to choke out - only slightly better, but certainly not what he'd been asked.
Can't. Can't breathe.

He threw his head back into the sand, pushing it there as if pushing him under water. "Not good enough!" He spat on his back, knives twisting further still.

Beg for mercy. Plead, damn it.

Logan's knives came out from Norman's body, ripping away at the shirt.

Norm wasn't the pleading sort. He'd learned quite well that it didn't make a damn bit of difference when someone was this intent on causing him pain. He tried to speak, but got a mouthful of damp sand. He could barely breathe already, and his head was swimming from the pain and the lack of oxygen.

I can't.

"Only the weak and worthless can't. I should have known."

It had only been a moment and Norman's clothes had been reduced to ribbons... useless scraps in all honesty.

Logan was sitting on top of his back now, knife in hand, carving something into Norman's back.

I'm not weak,... and.. not worthless... you bastard...

Norm was, for lack of a better word, twitching. The fight had gone out of him and he was just lying there in the sand, his breathing shallow and ragged. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out yet. His muscles still twitched at the fresh pain, though he'd thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse.

"You aren't, hm? And that's why you're being beaten by something half your size?" He finished carving his name with a flourish. Then, just for kicks, he carved three sixes underneath that.

"You're pitiful."

His forces began cracking bones in his right arm now.

But I-

And then the breaking of more bones and the new pain to accompany it. Norm turned his head and somehow found his voice, his tone shrieking and frantic. "No don't! Don't - Stop!" he screamed. It wasn't so much a plea as a demand, strangely enough.

"You're too cute. But I don't think I'm going to spare you because of it." He was mocking him, not surprisingly. He got up and rolled his naked body over, staring into his victims eyes now.

He gave a cry of pain at being moved. When he faced Logan, his expression twisted into one of pure hatred. He'd worn through his fear and had ended up with hate and anger.
"Bastard," Norm hissed, then spat at Logan. His glasses were scratched and fogged with damp sand and blood,and he couldn't aim well, anyway, but he tried.
You can hurt me as much as you want but you're not going to win...
He can be stupidly stubborn when he wants to be.

Logan threw back his head and gave a chuckle, wiping spit out of his eyes with the back of his wrist. "Oh, surely you jest. What're you going to do..., bleed on me?" He sounded incredulous and amused.

He stepped on his chest now, crushing his broken ribs as he bent his knee, still looking down into Norman's eyes.

He had to close his eyes as he grimaced in pain, letting a garbled yell erupt from him. After he recovered a little, he was glaring at Logan again, tears streaming from his eyes. "Y-yeah. "
Well, it was all he could do.

You won't win.
In Norm's mind, there wasn't anything Logan could do to him... other than the physical pain. If it was limited to that, he'd make it.

"You're pathetic, you know. Really, really pathetic." He shook his head in disappointment, seating himself on top of Norman, his own clothed waist straddling Norman's own naked one. He traced a black-colored fingernail over the boy's soft chest.

"It's a good thing you're pretty. Tall... like what's his name... Keye..." he purred. It was a rather soothing sound in all reality.

"You're p-pathetic," was Norman's reply. He might have been a bit more creative with his insults if his mental faculties hadn't been overwhelmed by pain. "I'm n-not,... n-not pretty..."

He squirmed, in a vain attempt to throw Logan off. "Go 'way..."

"Beauty," he smirked, tracing his finger into Norman's skin harder now, "is in the eye of the beholder, honey..."

The squirming only excite him. He folded his upper half over Norm and pushing himself a little further up his body kissed him.

Norm didn't kiss back. Instead, he made a sound not unlike a cat's hiss, and tried to bite. His unbroken arm lashed out and fumbled uselessly for a grip on Logan's neck.
Get off. Get off and go away and leave me alone

Logan's hand countered the oncoming arm that lashed out near immediately. "It's useless to resist." He mumbled after pulling away slightly, smirking from being bitten.

"I like you." He kissed him and bit him back.

I hate you and I want you to die.
That's the fun thing about thoughts. People will think things that they'd never say out loud.

He struggled (again, pointlessly), as much as his damaged body would permit.
"Go 'way..." he rasped. "G-get the f-f-fuck off me an' go 'way..."

"Doesn't everyone?" He asked, mock hurt in his voice.

"I won't get off you. And the only thing I will fucking do... is you."

He worked at unbuttoning his own pants.

(Curtain call? Now? Sometime soon?)

"Bastard," he growled weakly.
Go away!
That one thought was the equivalent, in real sound, of an earsplitting yell. Norman redoubled his pitiful efforts to force Logan away from him. The quick vibration of fear was humming through him now, mixing with the hatred. But really, there was nothing he could do but lay there. Maybe Logan would go easy on him.

((Mmyep. Now's good. *draws curtains*))

Logan definately didn't go easy on him. He was more brutal than he had been before and left more cuts on Norman than could be counted... like he'd done to Keye.

But after the deed was done and he'd broken a few more bones (in his other arm mostly) he got up and waved, smiling sweetly at Norm. "Seeya, sweetie." Then he sauntered off.

Darien had come to the beach for two reasons, one being for the same reason as Norman. To relax and be comfortable. The other because he did not live far from it and Howler loved to romp through the water. So Darien had dressed in a pair of blue jean shorts, just past the knee in length, and a green teeshirt that brought out the green more from his hazzle eyes. He'd packed Howler into the red wagon and pulled him to the beach, then left the wagon and shoes nearby a picnik table.

Now he was walking the sand while Howler darted in and out of the water, only his nose and the top of his curled, fluffy tail still dry. His fur was hung limp and flat. He was chasing one of those crabs that hid from the crowd during the day when the scent of blood and sex wafted to him. And being a dog he was curious, and being curious, he set out to satisfy that curiosity.

Howler's wet nose poked at Norman's face. Then again at Norman's neck.

Man? Pet me? Pet me? Tail wag. Then a droop of the tail and ears. He wasn't being pet. Snif snif... taste. His tongue came across an open wound. Man hurt? Is that why I'm not being pet?

He threw back his head and let out a long, mournful howl.

"Howler, Hush it!" Dan called over the waves. He started towards Howler and got only feet within him before the dog howled again and he noticed the man in the sand. He approached carfully, grabbed Howler by the collar and pulled him back.

"Sir?"

"Nnnnngh..." Norm's eyelids flickered, but he didn't open his eyes. He'd flinched at the cold, wet touch of Howler's nose, and later, tongue. For the last little while he'd been wavering in and out of consciousness. Every time he'd woken up, he'd prayed desperately to black out again. It felt like every square inch of him, inside and out, was in pain. The severity of it varied from place to place, but he couldn't ignore any of it.

"S-someone there?" His lips barely moved when he spoke, and as a result, the words were barely audible, and sounded like a pleading whine. "Hullo...?"

Howler tossed back his head an let a long howl and then a bark and another howl at being pulled backwards by Darien.

Lemme go! I wanna see!!!!

He tugged against his collar. Darien gave him a tug. "Sit." His voice was firm and comanding and Howler realized it was no longer playtime. He grudgingly say. Darien knelt in the sand beside the man and his knee grew wet. He made a soft sound. Gah. That's close to it. Blood. He realized how unsterile this was. "What happened to you sir?"

He tried desperatly to see in the darkness properly. He was having difficulty seeing the wounds on the man. As a vet, he could treat an animal, and in most cases, therefore could treat a human. Open wounds were one of those cases, if only he could see them.

He pulled off his tee shirt then to cover the man. "I'm going to roll you over ok?"

Norm winced - it felt like those howls were being drilled into his head via his ears.
A dog?... Well... as long as it doesn't start talking. Not that dogs can talk...

"W-was att... attacked," Norm mumbled hoarsely. He moistened his lips by quickly running the tip of his tongue over them. His tone was still pleading, as he was begging Darien to believe him. For some reason Norm was sure the stranger wouldn't think he was telling the truth. "Crazy kid attacked me... hurt me. I d-didn't do anything..."

Norm whimpered softly. "Don't move me... please.." he implored.

"I must," he replied to the begging to not be moved. "I must see." And he rolled him by sliding a hand under his shoulder and his hip, to roll his body over at once without straining Norman. He's been trained to be gentle, and people are easier to manuver then animals.

He took his shirt and lay it over Norman's groin. Then set about looking. Two broken arms, many cuts and stabs. A kid did this?

"I'm Darien. I'm a vet. This is Howler," Wag wag. Sniffing Norman's hair. At least he'd ceased to howl. "What's your name? And how long have you been out here?" His fingers touched with gently and carful prods. This was very insanitary without gloves on.

The young man bit back a groan as he was turned over, and remained with his jaw clenched for a full half-minute before he tried to talk again because he didn't trust himself not to scream. His sense of modesty, which seemed to have been hibernating, woke once he realized what part of him Darien had just covered. He'd been too preoccupied to realize that he was as good as naked.

"'I'm N,... Norman," he said finally, turning his head to discourage Howler from snuffling at his hair. "Iunno how long,... haven't been awake. M-maybe an hour.. maybe hours. Iunno..."