I hate you being so beautiful

A/N: There we go, here is the second chapter, at last. I'm so sorry that it took so long, but I'm super busy with my school, I've just painted all nights along, sheesh. Anyway, this chapter will also include some very graphic violence, but hey, T-Bag just came into picture, what do you expect? Oh, I *heart* that bastard, and I have to say that I almost feel sorry for Maytag. Michael, too.
Enjoy!


************************


"You can say goodbye to your beauty, bitch. I'm gonna cut you to *pieces*. Your pretty face is going to Hell."

"I ain't agreeing, Maytag. Put that thing down before you hurt yourself, will ya?"

Both Maytag and Michael goes stiff. T-Bag is closing the door behind him and walks slowly to them. Michael whimpers and tries to get back, but he's already in the corner of a small room. Maytag looks suddenly very pale.

"T-Bag, I - you came just in time. Look, I will kill that bitch for you, nicely and slowly, just the way you like it, right? Yeah, I will - " Maytag quickly starts to explain, extreme nervousness written all across his face.

"You *won't*." T-Bag hisses showing his teeth to now slightly frightened Maytag. "I see that you fucked Pretty. Huge mistake, I'm telling ya, boy, 'cause his *mine* to take."

"But I was just - okay. Okay. You can kill him, here, take the knife, I will be glad to watch." Maytag's voice is shaking now, as he holds the knife for wickedly leering T-Bag.

T-Bag takes the knife slowly from Maytag's trembling hand, turns to smile gently to Michael, who's crawling up to a small ball in a corner, and, keeping eyecontact to terrified prettyboy all the time, sticks a knife straight to Maytag's belly.

The moment was like a painting. For a while, nobody moved. Maytag's mouth is hanging wide open to picture a silent scream and his eyes grow wider with every heartbeat, more and more blood pouring from the deep wound with that. His guts are hanging outside, and more blood is trickling from the corner of his mouth. He breathes with huge, sickly sounding gags and gasps. T-Bag is holding a knife, whitch has fresh, deep red blood all over of it, smirking cruelly while watching Maytag's eyes filling up with painful, desperate tears.
T-Bag's white, tight t-shirt and dark blue pants are staining with blood. He stands so very still, then lets out a amused laugh.
Michael is curled up to a tight ball in a corner, horrified look written all across his tear-stained face, mouth slightly open with a shock. His arms are winded protectively around his own, abused body, and then the trembling starts. At the same moment, Maytag starts sobbing and whimpering, collapsed to his knees, more and more blood flowing to the floor. T-Bag looks at him, despising.

"Get up", he says coldly, kicking Maytag's side. Maytag cries out and curls up to a ball.

"You are *disgusting*. I said get up, Maytag. Now."

"I...I can't!" Maytag sobs and his hands are messy and sticky for uselessly trying to keep his guts in. He throws up a long time, making ugly, wet noices and gagging horribly when he notices that there is blood in his vomit. T-Bag kicks him again and Maytag lets out a long, pitiful shriek.

"Why?" T-Bag hisses, eyes cold as an old grave, face stoic. He bends down, grab's Maytag's hair and bangs his head into the floor. Hard. "Why?!"

"Because it HURTS!" Maytag is screaming, blood running from his now broken nose. His face is twisted, scrunched up from pain, a horrible mixture of tears, blood, puke, sweat and spit sticking to his cheeks. He sobs uncontrollably, shaking and writhing and screaming and gagging, shrieking some unintelligent words for no one to hear:
"Oooo...D-d-don't. Aaah, ple. Aaarrgh! Unh. Ple-ple-pleasssss.... N-no. Ohhh...eh..ehh...Sto-stop it... T-Bag-gh. Ah..aa. Ohh. Uurgh...Nnnno!"

"WHY?!"

"Because....ahhh...it...it - hurts...ohh. Pleasssse....I can't..."

"I know it hurts, it's supposed to. And I don't care a *bit*. Why - did - you - touch - him?!"

Maytag just whimpers, curls up in a tighter ball and sobs loudly, shaking. T-Bag grits his teeth and kicks him once more between his wingbones. Maytag's back arches with pain and he screams, until T-Bag grab's his throat and squeezes, tightly. Maytag makes strangling, choking noises as his face starts to turn red. His veins are showing now, he is struggling weakly, tears streaming from his eyes to his cheeks and to T-Bag's cruel fingers. When Maytag's eyes start to bulge from their caves, T-Bag slowly lets go and lets Maytag slump back to the floor, gasping breath.

"I'm going to ask you this a once more, Maytag. And I suggest that you answer me, or I will force you to eat your own *guts*."
He says that calmly, like he's discussing a weather, but tightens a hold of his knife at the same time.
"Now. Why did you touch him, when you *knew* that he was mine?"

Maytag pales. "He...ohhh...he was s-so...I...I'm sorry...ahh. He...he was..so...pretty."
Maytag whispers the last word with new. shameful tears in his eyes, and collapses to the sticky, bloody floor to cry.

T-Bag smirks. "I know *that* fact very well. I never called him 'Pretty' without a reason. He is far, far more beautiful than you ever were, or ever will be. He is far too beautiful to being raped and killed from some useless, puking little faggot like *you*. So, that thing doesn't really answer to my question, 'cause surely you know, boy, that even if you have also wanted him - you're not the only one - you knew, better than anybody else, that he was mine. You did. He belonged to me, and when the whole Purity gang respected my orders, do you think you little shit can just go and do the opposite?"
T-Bag hits Maytag's trembling shoulder with a knife, and slaps his face few times when he shrieks.

"Be quiet, you fucking moron. So, did you just woke up in a morning and thought 'Oh, it's a beautiful day. Sun is shining, birds are singing, and I think that I'm going to rape and kill Pretty today and I don't really care if my master, my *protector*, T-Bag, has planned otherwise and repeatedly denied everybody else to lay a finger on him?'. Is that what you thought, Maytag? Is that *really* what you thought?! You can't be that stupid. Now you're going to tell me *why*."

Maytag whimpers quietly and starts with a shaking voice: "I...was. So...je-jealous... Y-You cared...you cared about him m-more...ohhh, that slut just - "

T-Bag kicks Maytag to his stomach, hard enough to draw more blood from the wound he made earlier. "I got news to you, boy. You don't talk about him like that. Ever again. So, you were jealous? About me? Oh, that's touching. Do carry on."
"H-he...doesn't deserve...you...I - wanted...I *love* you, T-Bag...plea-please. You can't...I love you. Help me...please - please help me! I - I l-love you."


****************************

A/N2: Yeah, that was the second part. Third is on it's way, I promise. I'm sorry if this was a little bit short, next will be longer. I want to thank all of you people who replied, your comments were really encouraging and motivating. I was kind of nervous how people will like this, because this is kinda sick and it's getting even sicker in next part. (Necrofilia and character death are there, I promise!) And since english is not my mother language, I was a little bit shy to post my texts to anywhere. So, thank you all! <3 Third chapter will hopefully come faster than second did.