Chapter EightA Chapter by SinbulvinterFrey's a creepy stalker who has some issues, Rema's not the woman you wanna put your hands on, and the cat's finally out of the damn bag.Warning: Does contain some very triggering subjects, including a pretty graphic scene of self-harm with a bit of suicidal idealation, and a brief scene of attempted rape. Also contains mild violence which leads to murder, blood/gore, descriptions of child abuse, implied kidnapping, and domestic violence. Also has some topics that may be a bit intense, upsetting, or disturbing for readers. -Frey- For the four days, I had been following Rema every day when she leaves for work, and everyday when she walks home. I was trying to figure out why I couldn’t kill her, what made her so different. It had to be something, something that drew me to her and something that made me spare her. She seemed pretty normal on the surface. Worked every weekday from 8am to 6pm and ate at a fast food joint for her lunch break every day. She shopped at a discount grocery store, and bought a pint of whiskey or vodka every night and drank the whole walk home. She didn’t seem to have any friends besides her roommate and a younger guy she had only seen a few times in the last four days. She also seemed pretty lonely and depressed, and on her lunch break would cry by the backdoor as she smoked, making sure no one was around before she began. I waited outside her work in the alley, it was almost six ‘o clock and she’d be getting off soon. I figured I’d follow her again, maybe talk to her if I felt like it. I knew there was something strange about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was tired, and hadn’t slept in five days - hadn’t eaten in two. The Monster wouldn’t let me and whenever I slept, I had vivid dreams of the basement and the horrors that were there. Dreams of how I got all the scars that cover my body. Dreams of him finally finding me… I sliced into my arm to keep myself awake, cutting deep enough to bleed heavily, but not enough to do any serious damage. It gave me a rush every time I cut into the skin. I liked watching the blood drip down my arm and puddle on the ground between my legs where I sat. It reminded me I was alive, reminded me I was really here and it wasn’t a dream. I wondered what it’d be like to cut through a vein. A part of me wanted to cut until I bled out, until everything was finally over and the curtains finally closed on this miserable sideshow I called a life. I wanted to just f*****g die so bad sometimes, it was so attempting to dig that blade a little deeper and sleep forever instead of just slashing lightly to stay awake. I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard struggling behind the bar and I pulled down my sleeve. I stood and peered around the corner, surprised at what I saw. Rema was outside, pinned against the wall by a drunken and large man who was running his hands all over her small and thin body. She struggled half-heartedly, her eyes wet with unshed tears. The monster told me to watch… and wait. “Don’t.” Rema whispered, but her plea fell on deaf ears. The man only used more force the more she struggled. “Please, don’t make me do this… Not again.” “Shut up and be good, and I might not hurt you.” He growled into her ear, just loud enough for me to hear as he pushed his hand up her shirt. Something in her eyes changed and darkened. The spark left them and suddenly her expression went blank. In one swift move, she smashed his head against the brick. The sound echoed and she repeated the motion, again and again. His body crumbled to the ground and Rema stood tall, her eyes completely empty as she looked at his bloody and dismembered face. He was dead… I watched her figure shrink and she covered her mouth, tears beginning to fall as she stared down at the corpse. She glanced around and saw me standing by the corner, and I didn’t even bother trying to hide. “S**t…” She said, her voice thick with emotion. “It… It isn’t what it looks like.” I smirked… I get it now… I get it. “Yeah, it is… You just killed the man.” I walked towards the scene, admiring the beauty and art in the murder. He deserved it, that’s for sure. “I… I had to! It was self defense! Please, don’t tell! I-” She was in a panic, her words running together as more tears flooded her face. “Don’t worry… I wouldn’t tell…” I smirked, watching her face twist in confusion. “What?” “I do it too…” -Rema- He bent down and looked at the body closely, but my mind still couldn’t get fully process what he said. He saw me kill a man, bash his head into the wall until it was nothing but blood and meat, and he didn’t run or call the police… He… He told me he did it too… “You’re strong for a little girl.” Frey chuckled, that crooked smirk still on his face. “What do you mean, you do it too?” I asked slowly. “I kill people… Just like you…” He glanced up at me, a strange and unsettling look in his eyes. “I… I don’t want to… I… Hate myself for it…” “Don’t.” He said, standing up, “Humans are f*****g useless anyway.” He had no feeling. He didn’t even care a man was murdered… He… he seemed to approve of it. What the hell was wrong with this guy? “Well, you better leave the scene…” I shook my head, grabbing my phone. “Who the f**k you callin’?” “Zekk.” I told him, “He helps me with the… Mess.” Frey chuckled, lighting up a cig. He had blood on his hands, coming from under his sleeve. I hung up quickly and just set a text as soon as I saw the blood. “You’re bleeding?” “Eh?” He glanced down to where I was pointing, and pulled up his sleeve. His arm was littered with cuts and covered in blood. “Oh, yeah. Just was trying to stay awake. Can’t go to sleep.” It was casual to him, like nothing out of the ordinary. I grabbed his arm, looking at the wounds. He cut himself deep and repeatedly, and it looked like he lost a lot of blood. “Goddamn, Frey… You just got shot and attacked only a week ago and now you’re cutting yourself?” “It isn’t a big deal.” He pulled his arm away and went about smoking. “Why would you do that?” “I told you, I don’t wanna sleep... “ “Nightmares?” He nodded. My phone vibrated when Zekk texted me back, saying he’d be there in a few moments. I quickly grabbed Frey by the upper arm and started yanking him down the street. “Where you takin’ me?” He shouted, yanking his arm away. “You’re bleeding all over the place, I’mma fix up your arm, genius.” I told him, “Com’on.” He followed me back to my apartment, and I cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his arm, as well as checked on the wound on his leg - which was healing, but I could tell he wasn’t getting enough rest and stressing it. “You shouldn’t cut yourself.” I told him as I handed him a protein bar and a glass of water. “Why not?” He muttered, “I’m not gonna die, and if I did it wouldn’t matter much.” “You really think extremely low of yourself, don’t you?” I frowned, sitting beside him and watching as he flinched and edged further down the sofa. “No reason to think highly… I’m a f*****g useless piece of s**t murderer, always been, probably always will be.” He shrugged, his voice still that laid back and almost sarcastic tone. “Where’d you get that idea?” I asked. He glared at me for a minute, his expression showing anger like I touched something I shouldn’t have. “Pretty much got beaten over the head with it daily.” His voice was tight, through clenched teeth. “You were abused? Is that why you do what you do?” I felt a shot of sorrow for him to my gut, but he just laughed. “Nah, I mean, the guy beat the daylights out of me a lot, but I don’t kill because I got beat. I was raised to kill. He murdered people, and taught me how…” He explained, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “It’s familiar to me. I’m really not good at nothin’ else.” “Who?” He said before he didn’t remember his family or anything before Ten, yet he was raised as a killer? “I don’t know his name… But he had me in a basement since I was a kid. Don’t remember nothing before that.” “So, you were like… Kidnapped?” He shrugged. “I guess. Don’t know. He told me a lot of different stories of how he got me.” “And he taught you how to kill people?” He nodded, leaning forward as he grabbed a smoke. “More or Less. He killed people in front of me, and showed me how to do it. He’d get real pissed if I made a mistake or refused, yeah I’d get real bad if I refused… He basically taught me to be the way I am. Taught me human lives were worthless and it was our job to weed them out.” He acted so casual about it. “He hurt you if you didn’t kill someone?” It was hard to process, hard to believe… But I’d seen the scars to prove it. I could see them now on his face. No wonder he’s heartless and doesn’t care about anything…. All he’s known is pain and murder… what a horrible thing for a kid to go through. “He’d beat the s**t out of me if I fucked up even in the tiniest bit… I fucked up a lot, as you can tell.” Somehow, he smirked at this. He was completely detached from what was done to him… Like it didn’t even affect him… Or at least he pretended it didn’t. “That’s… Awful…” “It’s fine. I bashed his head in one day and escaped, hitchhiked around until I found my way here. Don’t know how to read or get a job or even have a life, but at least I’m free.” He leaned back, “why do you kill?” “It started with my husband… He was… Violent… Kinda like the man who raised you. He drank and had a very quick temper. he was sweet for the first year or so, but then he started showing who he really was. He hit me for the smallest thing, made me walk on eggshells around him, wouldn’t let me talk to my friends or family, forced himself on me… He told me no one would ever love me but him and trapped me in this relationship with him…” “So you murdered the a*****e?” I nodded, “I couldn’t take it anymore and one day… I just… Snapped… Killed him while he slept. Once that happened, I got paranoid around men and couldn’t stop…” I told him. “Had flashbacks whenever a guy touched me, even if he wasn’t trying to hurt me…” He just looked at me, with a blank expression. “I don’t want to… I just can’t control it.” “He deserved it.” Frey said, “Sounds like a dick.” “I could have found a different way. Left him… Went to the police… A friend.. Someone… I didn’t have to kill him.” “If you didn’t kill him, you’d be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life… Believe me, I know… Anyday The Man could find me… I’m free, but never really free.” For a moment, his eyes flashed a few emotions, so brief I couldn’t read them. But for a moment, he seemed human. “You didn’t kill him?” “Couldn’t bring myself to… Dunno why.” It came as a shock to me. He, of all people, didn’t seem like the type to spare anyone… Especially someone who treated him so badly… I can understand what he’s saying, and I get his message… If my husband was still alive, and out there somewhere trying to find me… I think I’d lose my mind. “Frey…?” I asked slowly, “Do you want to stay here… With me?” © 2017 SinbulvinterAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
369 Views
6 Reviews Added on April 9, 2017 Last Updated on April 19, 2017 Tags: serial killers, murder, horror, thriller, psychological, hurt/comfort, dark themes, suicidal idealation, PTSD AuthorSinbulvinterEphrata, PAAboutI am a Twenty-Five year old Writer and Mother of a Two Year Old Daughter and pregnant with a little boy on the way! I am a shaman, too empathetic for my own good, and a Major Horror Junkie who is obs.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|