Chapter Two

This chapter introduces the second Character, Rema, and features her first interaction with Frey.

Warning: Does contain mild descriptions of murder and bloody imagery, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of sexual content that includes prositution, heavy drinking, suicidal idealation, and themes and subjects that may upset, disturb, or trigger the reader. 

-Rema-

I wake up every morning afraid.  Afraid of being hurt, being left, being used.  Afraid of the men, strangers, my friends.  Afraid of finally not being able to make ends meet and getting evicted.  Afraid of being alone.

This dead-end waitress job got me nowhere.  I couldn’t even afford a place on my own, and had to move in with a high school friend after my husband’s death.  I never felt strong or independent.  I worked from morning to night, but it was never enough and the shut off notices and past due letters always showed up.  It forced me to gain money with my body, as much as I hated myself for it.

As I sat on the cheap motel room bed, with the scratchy sheets against my bare skin, I looked at the motionless man.  Blood… It was everywhere.

It could have been avoided.  I shouldn’t have done it.  Not again.  It started with a simple agreement, but he wanted more than he paid for.  He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and his rough grip reminded me too much of my ex-husband.  In a moment, I flashed from victim to survivor, from survivor to murderer, and next thing I knew I was beating him over the head with the wooden lamp until well after he stopped moving.

If I had been more straightforward, or just never did this in the first place, he might have lived to see the morning.  The wedding band on his finger shot me in the chest, forcing me to picture him as a Husband and Father I just took from a family. 

I rested my head in my bloodstained hands, the tears starting to fall and replace that numbed state of shock.  I’m a monster.  I tried to fight the monsters so long, and was victimized by them so much that I caught the virus.  I became as evil and depraved as them.

Zekk’ll clean up my messes, like he always does.  A loving friend I had for years with connection to the largest local gang, he always made the body disappear… Never asked questions or judges me, he’s just always there.


The guilt of it overwhelmed me, to the point I had to find a way to escape the feelings and thoughts.  Unfortunately, a fifth of whiskey has been the only thing to erase those memories.  I bought a bottle and wandered down the city streets alone with it in a paper bag, just chugging what I could of it and hoping it would drown my feelings… At least for a little while.

The sun sets, and the cold wind doesn’t feel so bad under the warmth of the booze in my body.  I stumbled more and more the further down the rabbit hole bottle I went, and I followed the path my feet drew for me.

I wasn’t worried about the shady people, I was more so worried they’d try something and I’d snap and take their lives too.  It’s happened before, and I know it will happen again.  It’s a never ending pattern I can’t break, and I wonder if I’m cursed to be like this for the rest of my life.  I never claimed to be a saint, or expected myself to become one… But I never knew I’d fall so fear.

I could hear the water rushing under the nearby bridge and was drawn to the soothing sound, like it could wash away my pain and sorrows.  I stumbled up the sidewalk, following the water until I reached the bridge.

The streets weren’t busy at night as much as they were during the day, and only a few cars drove by every couple minutes, but the lights still hurt my head.  I looked over the bridge, watching the waves as I walked. I could smell the smoke of cigarettes, and followed the craving.

There was a figure, a man, sitting on the edge with his legs hanging over the side and a cigarette between his fingers.  I stopped, asking in a slurred voice if he had one to spare.

At first, he didn’t answer me, like he was thinking it over and debating.  Then I saw him glance over before he handed me a beaten up pack and a lighter.  I thanked him and took one, leaning against the concrete wall as I handed the pack back to him.

“It’s cold out tonight, but the river’s real full from all the rain and snow we’ve been getting.” I noted, for some reason my voice wanting to talk to the stranger.  It was odd thinking back now, because I usually avoided strangers at all costs, especially men.  But him… He was… Different… Familiar.

He made a noise like mix of a grunt and snort, but didn’t really answer in words.  

I looked him over, the dirty and worn out dark jeans, thin hoodie that covered his face from view and didn’t do much to protect him from the cold, along with the fact he was even out there during such weather lead me to assume he was probably homeless.

“I haven’t seen you around before…” I told him, trying to keep my tone clear. The whiskey was really starting to make my head light. “I’ve had a bad day… and needed to clear my head. I come here sometimes to do that, but I’ve never seen you before.”

He looked over again, this time a long enough for me to catch a glimpse of his face in the lights of the passing cars.  Didn’t look much older than me, mid-twenties perhaps.  He had a mess of long, dark hair under the hood and was rather pale. “A little cold for a thin girl like yourself to be walking around drunk at night, don’t cha think?” He had the slightest of a southern accent, too, that didn’t seem to suit his appearance. His voice was also flat and blank of emotions, like a robot.

“Again, bad day.” That was an understatement. “What about you? You’re hardly dressed for this kind of weather.  What are you doing out here?”

“I got nowhere to go.” He said thoughtfully, then added after a pause. “Was thinking about jumping.”

I almosted giggled, but the serious look on his face told me he wasn't joking... It’s strange to hear people tell strangers they’re thinking about suicide, let alone say it so casually.

“Why would you wanna do that?”

“Why would you wanna drink that?” He returned, nodding towards the paperbag in my hand.

“You know, I’m sure you got someone or something to live for… Everyone does.” I tried to use my words carefully.  I knew the feeling, when I was with my husband I often thought about suicide.  At one time, I remember putting a gun in my mouth and wanting so badly to pull the trigger and escape the abuse… But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Not me.” He answered, that same indifferent tone to his voice. “Live or die, no one would notice.”

I frowned, thinking to myself.  What would I had wanted someone to say to me back then? What would have helped pull me out of it?

“What’s your name?” I asked.  I wanted someone, anyone, to talk to and care for me.  Someone to be there, even just to listen.

"What does that matter?" He nearly snapped.

"Just curious... I'm Rema."

He rolled his eyes, “Frey.” he said after a short moment.

“Are you homeless?” I asked bluntly.

He looked over again, eyes narrowed while he nodded slowly.

“You wanna go get some coffee and food?  I’ll buy, you’re probably hungry and freezing.” His clothes were soaking wet, least I could do is feed and warm him.  I was homeless for a few weeks and it was hell.  From the sounds of it, He’s been homeless for a while.

He just stared at me, not moving a muscle like he thought I’d bite him or something.

“Com’on, just coffee and a sandwich.  Then if you wanna go back and jump off this bridge you’ll have a full stomach.” I smiled, but he didn’t return the expression.

His eyes changed, flashed black, then went back to their pale blue color in a second. “Sure…”

Author's Note

(Note: the next two chapters were mysteriously deleted and had to be reposted again, you can find chapter three and four at the end of the volume. Or click this link: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Sinbulvinter/1937938/

Okay, this is the second chapter, and features Rema's introduction, and her first run in with Frey (who's ready to jump off a damn bridge.)

This is a multi-chapter story, which is only the first volume of four. So go back and read the first chapter if you want.
This story is also about serial killers, and will contain some very upsetting, disturbing, and graphic content. If you can't handle that, you may want to look for another story. If you can handle it, than enjoy!

Any feedback, comments, or advice would be greatly appreciated!
I post often, so keep an eye out for more if you enjoy this so far.

Reviews

[Oneluv]

Both of them together is going to be very interesting!!! Can't wait for chapter three! When are you going to have the next chapter ready?

[Sinbulvinter]

Haha, yes. They make for an interesting blend of contrast and similarities.
The next chapter is already editted, I'm actually posting it now. I have up to chapter twelve written out and uneditted, and the complete first volume already planned, so it should be updated very often. haha. This stories actually been written and rewritten three times now.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! Even a simple comment makes my day and gives me a big smile! Be ready for the next one any minute

[Oneluv]

Awesome, Im addicted and I cant wait to see what happens next!

[Sinbulvinter]

So glad you're liking it! I get so happy when someone reads my stuff. Trust me, it gets better. Just wait until s**t starts going down and when the s**t really hits the fan!

[Sinbulvinter]

Next chapter is up now, by the way

[Oneluv]

Already read it lol

[Sinbulvinter]

Yayyyy! You're makin' my day, man!