Chapter ElevenA Chapter by SinbulvinterRema tries to recover from the betrayal caused by Zekk, but can't help but blame herself for what happened. And Frey's just a really fucked up and damaged guy...Warning: This chapter contains some triggering subjects, including mentions of rape, victim shaming, and a scene of self harm/cutting that's brief but graphic. There's also murder, a flashback of pretty descriptive physical and mental abuse, some drinking, and the subjects and themes that may upset, disturb, or trigger the reader... -Rema- I woke up in my bed, cleaned and bandaged with fresh pjs on and a glass of water on my nightstand. For a moment, I thought Zekk, Saco, and Kal attacking us and getting killed was only a nightmare, but then the pain kicked in. My head pounded and my pelvis ached from the abuse. Tears streamed down my cheeks as the memories came back. Zekk’s anger, his rough hands, him shooting and beating on Frey, his body pinning me down, raping me while Saco and Kal tormented Frey relentlessly. It occurred to me that Frey must have taken care of me after I passed out, even after being shot, beaten, and nearly raped himself. I stood up, against my body’s wishes and limped out of my room. I found Frey in the kitchen, cleaning blood off the floor. He was still bleeding, half naked in only his jeans that he didn’t even bother zipping and buttoning, and covered in bruises. He didn’t even seem to notice me come in, and as he scrubbed at the floor in a trance I saw the hickeys all over his neck and shoulders and the marks around his wrists from being restrained. “Frey…” I said softly, leaning in. He didn’t answer me. “Frey, stop…” He was just pushing around bloody water at this point, and I started worrying if he was even understanding what was going on. I bent down beside him, carefully placing my hand on his shoulder and not moving it even when he flinched. “Frey, you’re hurt.” “I’m sorry.” He whispered. I cocked my head to the side, “What?” His voice was thick, and full of emotion, but I couldn’t tell which. “I’m sorry he hurt you… He was right… It was my fault…” “Frey, stop for a minute. You need to let me help you like you helped me... “ “I owed you. I’m fine, just… leave me be.” “You aren’t fine.” I said, “You’re covered in blood, you were shot in the shoulder, beaten and nearly raped, Frey.” “They didn’t f**k me.” He said, his tone suddenly blank again. “He did that to you, so you needed more help than I did… I’m fine, I’ve had worse… What he did to you was worse.” “Frey… You're not fine, you’re bleeding out. Just stop, let me help you.” I tried to stop his hand from scrubbing, but he wouldn’t let me. “Uh… Frey, what those men tried to do to you, What Zekk did to me… Did… Did someone do that to you before?” He paused, his muscles tensing… Then he nodded. It didn’t even cross my mind until the night before. Frey never seemed like a rape victim at first. He was obviously physically and mentally abused, and reflected it with his anger and hatred towards the world. But he seemed to strong, and oddly - stable - to lead me to believe he was raped. He didn’t seem like a victim or someone who had their innocence taken like that… But that night, that look in his eyes and the way he shut down… It all clicked, and to be honest I was ashamed of not noticing it before. He admitted to be held in a basement and abused by a sadistic murderer, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he was sexually abused as well. “Frey… I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t know… I didn’t know you had that happen to you…” He wouldn’t look at me, “Do I disgust you now?” I frowned, taken back. “What? No, of course not.” “I didn’t like it… I wasn’t supposed to, he made that obvious.” he sounded so small for a moment, his voice was still blank of emotion, but it was soft rather than the deep, gruff sound I was used to. “Look, you’re really hurt… I need to take care of you…” I told him, sighing in relief when he nodded. I had to help him to the bathroom, since he could barely stand. “What happened exactly?” Frey asked, he looked at me. Actually looked directly at me. “You don’t remember?” “Not much.” I filled him in on the last bit, and how I managed to kill Zekk. He didn’t really show much emotion wise about how it made him feel, but I could tell by the way he clenched his fists he was pissed. “He should have suffered more…” He said, “He deserved more.” “Zekk… Wasn’t acting like himself… He wasn’t a bad guy, honest… I don’t know what got into him.” It hurt me to remember, to realize the complete change in Zekk. He was always a kind, gentle, and brotherly figure to me. He’d hardly even raise his voice. But that night, he seemed more like my ex husband than the best friend I knew for more than half my life. “Sure, yeah… He wasn’t a bad guy…” Frey shook his head, his jaw tightening. “How could you defend him? Who cares if he wasn’t ‘acting like himself.’ Who cares if he thought he was going to prison or if he felt jealous because he ‘loved you.’ He came here, with intent of hurting you, he raped you, tried to f*****g kill me, and he would have done worse if you didn’t kill him.” “He was family to me.” “Well, I ain’t never had a family, but I know family isn’t supposed to do that s**t.” Frey was wise for a person in his situation. He had wisdom he didn’t even realize he had, wisdom most people didn’t. He didn’t have all the social programing and brainwashing most people had, and he saw things more clear despite being brainwashed and warped by a murderer. Things were black and white to him, no gray areas… I kind of respected that. He got lucky with his shoulder, the bullet passed right through the skin and muscle and out the other side, so I didn’t have to dig it out. It was bleeding badly, and had powder burns around it. It looked like it hurt like hell, but Frey didn’t even flinch as I cleaned it and bandaged it. “Thank you,” I told him, “for taking care of me.” “I wasn’t just gonna leave you unconscious on the floor.” Hmm… He did have some morals at least. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me… It really wasn’t your fault, I don’t know why you said it was… In fact, you’re the reason I even fought back… If you weren’t here, I would have just let him do whatever he wanted to me…” I sighed, that helpless feeling coming back. “Well, that’s stupid.” He said bluntly, “You didn’t care that he was hurting you, but when his friends started doing the same thing to me, you suddenly want to fight back? And you say I think lowly of myself.” “I… I don’t think lowly, really. I just hate what I do and what I became. I hate the mistakes I make and the guilt eats me alive, I feel like I deserve to be hurt.” I tried to explain what I felt, but the feelings were hard to put into words. “See, that’s the difference between me and you. I hate everyone, including myself, and I don’t regret killing anyone. I think lowly of everyone and pretty much want everyone to die, so naturally, I hate myself and want myself to die too. But you, you got all that baggage of morals and values and regrets and crap holding you down.” “Frey… What exactly happened to you all those years ago? To make you think like this?” I asked, carefully, “I mean, I was abused too, and it made me hate myself and feel untrusting towards the world… But you just seem to hate everything, detach from everything and act like whatever happened to you doesn’t even affect you… but I’ve seen your scars…” He looked away, and was quiet for a while. “I don’t really like talking about it, but I can promise ya it was way different from whatever you went through, so I came out different than you.” // -Frey- It had been two full months since Zekk attacked Rema and no one had even bothered asking questions, the police believed he just took off and put a warrant out for him. Rema never seemed to be the same after that night, but I thought she was becoming more like me… More careless and detached, but she was still overly emotional as hell and annoyed me. She let me stay with her, even after my wounds healed and with her roommate pretty much hating me. She was pissed at me when I asked her if she wanted me to leave, and insisted I stayed there with her. She became very clingy, and pretty much wouldn’t leave me alone. I wasn’t used to the attention, but it more annoyed me than anything. I didn’t like the constant questions when I left for a while, or the prying into my past that I still refused to tell her about. I also got annoyed at how she mothered me, insisted on making me meals and asking if I needed anything, cleaning my wounds if I got hurt when I murdered someone. She treated me like a child, and I wasn’t used to it. Furthermore, the monster started getting annoyed with her too, and after she stopped descending into the darkness the Monster pushed me into; it started hating her and wanting her dead. It hounded me constantly if I refused, wouldn’t let me sleep, and threw me into memories constantly. And lately, it encouraged me to kill myself a lot. Rema had left for work hours ago, wouldn’t be back for another hour or so and I was left alone. Often times, I left the house and looked for someone to take my anger out on, but the monster prevented me from doing that and would hit me with memories as soon as I walked out the door. It was like it wanted to drive me insane. I thought about the basement most of the time, and the things of my past I’d rather just forget. But this time, I thought about that one night. The memories were still fresh, and I pretended like they didn’t bother me, but they did. Rema even seemed to be moving on, after a couple weeks of crying during the night and sobbing on my shoulder while she spilled her heart out, she started moving forward… I just couldn’t. I remembered all the bruises Rema had on her arms and face, that stuck for weeks. I remembered the way she cried and the helpless sounds of her voice, and it hurt my stomach. I remembered the words Zekk said, how I ruined her and made her worse… That it was my fault that happened to her as much as it was hers, yet she took all the blame. I remember what his friends were trying to do, but it’s blurry. I just remember being touched and mocked relentlessly, and treated like I was some kind of w***e. I hadn’t been treated that way in years, and I shut down. “You’ll always be that weak child, deep down… It’s me who made you strong.” The Monster was right. I wouldn’t be free if it didn’t give me the strength to escape. Hell, I might have not even been alive. “You were just a pathetic fool when I found you, and I brought you up to the level of gods with strength and power, yet you misuse it and let yourself become attached to a pitiful woman. She’ll get you killed, don’t you see?” The flashes came back, and the pain shot through my shoulder like I had been shot all over again. “You should just leave, leave this town and never look back.” I don’t want to leave her. “Then you should just die. You’ll only drag her down, destroy her, and then she’ll ruin you. She’ll get sick of you and leave, she’ll see what a sick monster you are and hate you like everyone else. You aren’t meant for normal life like the rest of them, you’ll never be like them.” I wanted to, though. I wanted to belong, I wanted to be close to Rema and open myself up to her. A part of me, deep, deep down, wanted to be normal like the people I killed… But I knew that would never happen. “Accept it, you’ll die alone… If you can’t accept that, kill yourself. There’s no point in trying to get through to you, you’ll never listen and only hurt the girl and allow yourself to be ruined… You’re already ruined.” I stood, wandering into the bathroom like a zombie in a haze. I knew it was partly me, but I didn’t feel like I was controlling my own body. My legs moved without a thought in my mind, and my hands and eyes searched for something without any intent from my brain. It was a razor. I took it into the bedroom, where it was dark and quiet… Where the bed would be a soft surface to sleep. I snapped the plastic, pulled out the tricky blades and held them in between my cut fingers. I did want to die, I always did. The realization that I’d never be normal, even if I wanted to, and that I’d drag Rema down the rabbit hole with me… I hated the idea of living any longer. I could hardly feel the razor cut through my wrist, deep pass the skin and tissue. I could barely feel the warm blood drip down my arm. It fell onto the carpet and created a puddle. I just repeated the process as the Monster stepped in, and sent me into my memories. //flashback// The concrete at the bottom of the stairs hurt like hell when I was thrown down them, but by now I was used to the pain. It was all I knew. “This whole thing with you is gettin’ real stupid, brat.” His voice boomed as he walked down the stairs, his hands rolled into fists. “Simple tasks, Frey, simple f****n’ tasks you manage to f**k up all the damn time.” “I’m sorry.” I stammered. I had messed up, he was right… I deserved it. He only asked a simple request no different than the ones he did at least once a week. But the woman was crying, begging me not to hurt her. She was no older than I must have been, and so small and scared. I kept begging him just to let her go, and she even promised not to tell… She said she had children, a husband… She begged him to let her go, and when I didn’t kill her, he did. “It’s those damn feelin’s that get in your way. That b***h don’t matter, her stupid brats or dumb husband don’t matter. None of the people out there do. Don’t cha get it, you thick-skulled idiot?” He smacked the side of my head once I sat up, and nearly knocked me over again. “People are useless, disgusting cockroaches. They all deserve to die, and I’m supposed to kill them… God told me so… I thought you’d be good enough, but it appears you’re just as worthless as those idiots out there.” “You… You can kill me…” I wanted to die, especially then. “I’m a f**k up, I understand.” “Oh, Frey…” He sighed, “You're Not hopeless, just plain stubborn… Just need to be taught a couple more lessons I think.” I didn’t know if I could handle another beating, or if I could handle being fucked again. He already beat me savagely with his fists and feet upstairs when I said I wouldn’t kill her, I think the belt would make me cry… and then he’d punish me for that. “But… It hurts…” The tears started against my will, I felt so weak. “It’s supposed to hurt, stupid kid. It wouldn’t teach ya nothin’ if it didn’t…” He groaned loudly, and kicked me in the ribs. “Are you f*****g crying again? God, I swear you’re a little b***h in a teenaged boy’s body sometimes… Do you like pissin’ me off?” I shook my head, trying to calm my sobbing as i held my ribs. I heard them crack when he kicked me again. “It’s like you’re asking to get beat. Can’t you just be a man instead of a little f**k up?” He stomped on my arm, and I screamed, unable to hold back the sobs any longer. “Stop crying, no one even gives a s**t. No one’s coming to save you, no one even knows you’re here. You’re just making me more angry… No one cares, you useless ungrateful brat. So stop crying!” //End Flashback// © 2017 SinbulvinterAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
346 Views
6 Reviews Added on April 11, 2017 Last Updated on April 23, 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..
|