Delivered.

Murders portrayed through the thoughts of the killer / accomplice. Scattered thoughts that lead to obsessive, planned killings and suicide.

Delivered.

The velociraptor is too known.  I can’t get on board. Brilliant, really, but too much.  What’s your favorite dinosaur? A velociraptor.

Mine was a brachiosaurus, until I realized how everyone else’s was a brachiosaurus.  I mean how can you not love him, a giant cow. I deny it though I know it’s true.

I’ll take a pachycephalosaurus now.  I liked him first.

_______

The first one went missing four months ago.  So did the last. Four months; maybe I could quote Lincoln on the next go.  Four is a lucky number, that all it takes for a pack. I can’t help what I dream about.  You’ll realize that soon enough.

I felt bad for her.  The difference between past, present, future.  Back then, she was wild - loved even, maybe. Well she was, or she could have been.  By the only one that truly matters. But she didn’t care about him, so she had to go.  He let her go first, and she lied. Can you believe that, she lied?!

I would have been as angry as him at the time.  She lied. I would never lie. That’s why I never have to be afraid.  The w***e. I don’t blame him for the way he felt. He loved her and she betrayed him.  How cliche.

_______

The second one went missing for her own health.  You can only regret so much before it eats you alive.  Before you consume yourself. Imagine that. Not just survival situations, but so far beyond that.  Could you expect anything else? You try to profile a person and he thinks he knows everything. Then BAM, she hits you with something else.

I would have been as confused as him at the time.  What was she thinking? It’s not just a lie, though that’s not near the worst part of it.  You would think a lie would be after the first. But maybe she wasn’t a target for the lying after the first.

She was confused herself.  Maybe even ill. But velociraptors prey on everyone, even the ill.  They’re smaller than you think, you know? Kinda cute.

_______

I locked me in the room.  After I found out who I was.  The other me, found out, really.  I can’t help the others that I see, but I can’t say that they’re divorced from me.  That’s why I say he’s I. He’s not he, of course. How could I ever be.

I locked me in the room.  I wanted to keep me forever.  To bite me and tell me that I’m mine.  Just like the book should have gone, if there were a prequel with more love, less intention.  Intentions are the downfall. No one gives a s**t about your intentions unless you can deliver.

_______

The third one, I mean she was hilarious.  Pathetic really, I think that’s what he thought too.  If I think what he thinks then it’s ok right?

He wasn’t at fault for it.  I would have left it as pathetic as it came to me.  Like there are a million ways out to see, but she’s paralyzed instead.  That’s on her; not anyone else. That’s on her.

_______

A pachycephalosaurus could have busted through the wall I locked me in.  Again, I is he, but he is not he. He’s totally different from I. He is sweet, loving, kind; I don’t deserve him.  But I is rough, idealist, a dreamer; I don’t deserve me. I think I know that.

The pachycephalosaurus could have been called Thorin.  She’s a king she is. She would have busted through the walls leading to the outdoors, to help me escape.  I couldn’t ride on her, but it cold bust me out of the cage I’m in now. I feel it closing in on me. That’s because he’s not here.  He could be here. I’ll find him soon, and bust him out of the spiral he’s in.

_______

The last one.  I knew it was about her all along.  None of the others missing meant anything.  It was all preparation to see what to do with the last one.  He could have just left her, but he didn’t.

She got to sit and watch, just like she did the last time.  She was happy now. Married, pregnant, fat. Not because of the pregnancy, just Southern nature.

_______

The first was cut.  Just one slice. It started from one area of betrayal and gradually moved up to the next.  Very biblical. Imagine being impaled, but instead of a quick stake, it was a slowly moving wire.  It was a slow carving, like a tender piece of meat, cherished after a hunt. Every scream echoed. One long, the next shorter and shorter, then silence.  But she was conscious. The wire carried from front to back, and led to her lips. Both places she fooled him and then betrayed him. So the wire stopped at the brain.  So she would have time to think about what she had done. She could think it, but she couldn’t lie out loud anymore. Not to him, and that was the point. She was smaller than I imagined.

The second was locked away and hung outside.  Alongside a cliff where the singing birds can provide their own lullaby.  Though they didn’t do much singing. Vultures can’t tell the difference. They’ll carve, peck, and naw.  Even if the kill is too easy. It was spoon-fed to them. Maybe they’re not like velociraptors, they prefer more of a hunt.  But when she’s that ill, the hunt wouldn’t have been easy. He could watch other ill methods perform on the ill. That’s what he wanted.

The third was placed inside a room.  The door wasn’t even locked. The robes gently tied, wrapping around her.  She could have struggled, but she cried too much first. It proved the point.  Completely pathetic. A pachycephalosaurus could have burst inside the room, knocked her off of the chair, and led her out of the room, and she would have remained frozen, staring at her way out.  She knew it was him locking in her inside, but it had been restraining her for years. Four months ago, she was freed.

Hour after hour another was freed.  Lined up one after the other. But I don’t think it was in the right order for him.  It was in the order for me. Why was it in the order for me?

The final one was left.  This time the doors were locked.  But it was only them two in the room.  He proved his love for me. He didn’t do anything to try to convince her it would be ok.  He simply watched her die. Starvation. Depression. Loss of hope. She lost all hope when she left him so many years ago.  He left the other ones, but this one - she left him.

Maybe he was shocked too.  That’s why he didn’t do anything in the room with her.  She was his real first... but that’s ok. Now I get to be his last.

_______

I hope I get shaved.  Hair can be misleading, but so can skin.  No one can see the inner intentions when physical barriers are in the way.  But then again, intentions are the downfall. No one gives a s**t about your intentions unless you can deliver.

I’ll be his last.  This in love, that’s all I ask to be.  He doesn’t need to be here for me to be his last.  I’ll carry it out for him. After all.

He delivered, and I watched him.  I think he was overcome with emotions after the shock.  It was all four months ago but, these next four months, I had to watch him deal with it.  I was happy, I could finally put everything behind us. So could he. He thought it was done all for him.  It wasn’t. It was for us. I thought it was all delivered. This time it was our intentions, but something got mixed up.  His head was bashed in, blood still dripping from th wall 6 feet up. He had carved up his arms. He was locked in the room and I couldn’t get to him in time.

I’ll tell him when I see him again.  Once I see him, that’s when it will be delivered.

.Orthryss.

Author's Note

Please tell me anything you think about this. Good and bad. First short story. I want it to seem real.