Maria (slave_o_spike) wrote,

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QaF Cannibal Ficlet "In Ted's Room"

This is just for fun and is a ficlet in my QaF Cannibal universe. It takes place sometime around chapters 13 - 15.

Also, smittenkitten27 and jillapet have made me some icons for this story and I will post them as soon as I figure out how to do it correctly.

But for now, a little something....

Title: In Ted's Room
Characters: Justin
Summary: What is it Justin finds in Ted's room? This is from Justin's POV. This is from my cannibal universe and the timeline could be anywhere from chapter 13 to 14.
Genre: Crack!fic of course!!!
Rating: PG13?
Disclaimers: I don't own Cowlip, the boys and I don't have Harrison Ford's personal address.

- This isn't going to have a happy ending. - Detective William Somerset (Morgan Freeman) from Se7en

I shouldn't be wandering around up here. Especially not after what happened the last time. But Debbie told me to come upstairs and see if Ted was in his room.

His door is slightly ajar and I knock timidly.

You never know what he might be doing in there.

My imagination has come up with a few possibilities and none of them are pretty.

I don't hear Ted answer so I step in cautiously. I'd hate to have caught him in the middle of dressing or something.

As I walk in, I notice how dark it is in here, and that's with the lights on. All the bulbs are dim and I have to ask myself when it was the last time that Ted had changed the bulbs.

On my right is his stereo system. It's really quite a set up and I wonder how Ted, being the kind of man he is, had afforded something so nice and technologically advanced. A few CD's are scattered across the shelf above the stereo. One of them is a CD of Bizet's opera Carmen. All of the CDs have an operatic theme.

Who would have figured Ted for an opera enthusiast?

I come to a desk on which top he has numerous books for record keeping. Another shelf hosts a long line of empty jars, all labeled with a day of the month, all lidded of course. This just has to be Ted's daily air collection. As I glance up, I see a long string of sausage hanging against the wall. It has long since dried out and a tag adorns the bottom link with one word, TAD.

See? That is so Ted. Only he would keep one of Debbie's sausage and then name it.

I turn away from Ted's desk and his pet sausage and I rub my eyes because I'm surely not seeing things right.

Along the back wall of Ted's bedroom are books. Rows and rows of books.

Composition books to be exact. The black and white kind. The kind I used to use at St James Academy for taking notes when I was a student there.

I know it's not my place to go through anybody's personal business, but I can't help being drawn to the stacks.

Stacks of books on no doubt Ted's personal musings for I'm pretty sure they're not old college notebooks.

It almost reminds me of a creepy movie I once saw where the two detectives find the serial murderer's apartment and his stack of composition books, the very same books I happen to be staring at at the moment.

As the detectives had read some of the personal diaries of the madman, they had been able to get a glimpse into the psycho's mind and it wasn't a very pretty sight.

Is this what these were? A door into Ted's mind? What would I learn if I opened one of the books and read one of it's many passages? Would they be the delusional and mad ramblings of a demented mind?

I have to wonder at what horrors could be encased in the tomes in front of me. I wonder if they contain passages about man's inhumanity towards man, in only the way a man of Ted's persuasion could tell it.

I pick up one of the books and swallow, looking around me once more, to make sure no one is there. I open the notebook to a random page and read what is therein.

Monday, April 5, 1999

7:00 AM Masturbated to internet pron

8:00 AM Collected air in a jar

9:00 AM Masturbated to internet porn

10:00 AM Masturbated to magazine porn

11:00 AM Found rock - picked it up - put it back

12:00 AM Masturbated to internet porn

I close the book and place it on top of the stack. I flip through some more pages and find them all to be the same.

These were not the books of a madman, only a man slowly marking time, which in itself, I have to admit, is rather horrific on its own.

I walk out of Ted's room, secure in the knowledge that I shouldn't jump to conclusions from now on and that life in the movies is a different matter entirely and that this is real life and has nothing whatsoever to do with the movies.


Feedback is loved as always.

Should I post this to Is that allowed? The pairing on this particular ficlet is Justin only and I'm not sure if I would be breaking rules.
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