Amnesia and Star Child | By : coldblood Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Linkin Park Views: 1666 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Linkin Park. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Rob paced back and forth next to his bed with his hands over his bowling ball pot belly - his stomach was churning and he felt like he was going to explode - something was telling him he needed to construct a soft, safe haven - with everything right - pile up pillows, quilts and clothes - an instinctual urge to nest.
He had been pacing for nearly two hours now.
Had the drummer not been feeling so sick and broody he would have thought all of the feelings and urges were a bit strange, but he was, and those thoughts didn’t cross his mind.
Rob suddenly purred and wheeled, yanking the quilt off the bed and placing it on the floor in a heap, he took the pillows and tossed them in top of that, then he scoured the entire house for clothes and towels, bringing them back to the room and covering the floor up until everything was a soft cushion of material.
He used his bare feet to test the ground, scratching around like a hen and then deciding it wasn’t enough - he turned to his closet and opened it, taking clothes out and tossing them on the floor and then did another sweep of the house, emptying draws, cupboards and closets of material - even Staccia’s clothes weren’t safe - and if that weren’t enough, he made off with the couch and armchair cushions.
With all of this stacked all around the bedroom, Rob nodded in satisfaction and began piling all of the items he had gathered into one huge pile, then he set about moving things around the room.
The bed, stripped of its sheets and quilt, was pushed to the side of the room and the bed side tables were moved along to the side of the room too - nothing was safe - even the small book case was tipped and shifted over to the other corner of the room and all of the books were piled onto the bed.
It wasn’t long before Rob had virtually put a barricade up against the wall opposite to the door.
Then he drew the curtains, plunging the room into twilight darkness, which he soon corrected by tying handkerchiefs to the lamps and using them to bathe the room in a soft golden glow.
Then the drummer went to the air conditioner controls and set the conditioner to warm the room to a constant temperature of thirty five degrees.
At last satisfied it was all set, Rob turned his attentions to the clothes and blankets, pillows and towels - he started scattering them around the room, burying the floor until everything was layers deep.
He moved around the room, checking the consistency, moving clothes from some places and putting them elsewhere, then piling extra in one spot next to the bed, using the quilts, towels and pillows to build a mound, until it was high enough, and then Rob began to hollow out the center until it resembled a huge nest.
At last he was content and so he curled into the cradle of the nest and pulled a sheet over him and fell into an instant deep sleep.
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