Chapter TwentyA Chapter by SinbulvinterFrey hates everything, His monster wants to kill everything, Rema thinks she's going insane, and Kacia is a b***h.
Warning: This chapter does contain mild violence, Self Injury, Death Threats, a s**t load of cursing and offensive names, mentions of torture, mentions of murder, and subjects that may disturb or trigger the reader.
-Rema- Things were getting worse with Frey, and I was lost as to what to do. I felt hurt as well, and broken by not only what was done by that man, but what Zekk did that I never took the time to properly recover from. But I worked to become stronger, I worked to be happy.. Frey… Frey just gave up. The night terrors were constant, the mood swings, refusing to eat, depriving himself of sleep, and then constantly altering between personalities. It was all too much to handle. Something inside Frey’s brain was broken and I wasn't sure if I could fix it. I wanted nothing more than help him, have both of us move forward, and be happy together. Live normally and comfortably. I loved Frey, and I told him often… He never returned the phrase. I walked out of the bathroom and into the living room to find Frey sitting on the sofa, staring at the static on the Tv with that blank and lifeless look on his face. The room felt so cold, and I quickly checked the temperature to find it was Fifty-eight degrees. I turned the heat on, confused. “It was far too warm.” I jumped at the sound of Frey’s voice… because again, it didn’t sound like Frey… No accent… No spark… Just dead and flat. Like a robot. “I’m… Glad to see you up…” I said slowly. “I am really beginning not to like your little blond friend… Or you, either, for that matter.” He wouldn’t look at me, his eyes stared at the TV. The static blurring a deftone over the speakers. “Is the cable out?” I asked. “There’s plenty to watch… You just have to look.” The strange way he said it, mixed with the twisted upturn of the side of his mouth made shivers run down my spine. The way the light and shadows cast on his face only made this more creepy, and I felt like I stepped into an even freaker horror movie than the one I already was in. “You’re… acting odd again…” I said. “What? You don’t like me?” He chuckled, but it was dry and put on. “You know Frey would never love you, right? He doesn’t know how…” I winced at the pain the statement shot into my chest and I swallowed, “I’d like to talk to Frey…” He turned, slowly, like his head was on a screw. There was this strange, almost evil look in his eyes and they seemed to swirl with darkness… sucking up my soul as I looked into them. I found it hard to look away, then he smirked and pulled up his sleeves, revealing rows and rows of cuts on both of his arms. “Look what I did.” Then he laughed, and it shook me to the bone. “Think that’ll teach him for not listening to me.” “F...Frey...I…” I didn’t know what to say, I only stared in horror at the deep gashes. “You going to hit him? Because it won’t fly with me, I’ll break your other arm, b***h.” He spat at me, then slid back down his sleeves and sat back in the chair, staring at the static. “I want to talk to Frey.” I repeated. “Too bad.” “What happened? What’s wrong?” I asked, hoping I could get through the dark alter and to the real Frey. “What’s wrong? You naive girl, are you f*****g blind? Or are you just stupid?” “Frey, knock it off…” “I think I’ll kill you one day, rid him of your nuisance and ‘priceless advice’.” “Frey, you’re scaring me.” He laughed, his head bobbing from side to side while his laughter sounded more like the cackle of a witch than the short, sarcastic chuckle I often heard from Frey. He cracked his neck and then suddenly stood, limping on the broken leg over to the kitchen. He could hardly walk on a normal day, yet he was walking with little issue now. He opened the knife drawer and pulled out a butcher’s cleaver, letting the light catch it while he turned and started walking towards me. I watched in terror as he sliced open his wrist, then grabbed my arm and attempted to do the same. I yanked away from him, falling off the chair and onto the floor. I crawled backwards, gasps and whines escaping my lungs as I tried to get away from him. His blood dripped from his arm and onto the floor and he stalked me like a bird of prey, slow and long steps as I scrambled across the floor. “Frey, knock it off!” I screamed. He laughed, “You want to help him so damn much… Why don’t you both just die together?” “Frey!” “He’s always telling me not to go near you, trying to convince himself and me that you mean something… He knows you’re holding him back… And you two think you can be normal? Live normal lives. You’re both murderers, and it’s all you’ll ever be.” “Frey! Stop!” My back hit the wall and he hovered above me. His expression not even looking human at this point. “You’re both monsters, just like me, and neither of you deserve happiness. There’s a special place in hell for the both of you, and I’ll laugh when I see you there.” He went to grab my wrist again, and I grabbed his arm and yanked him to the ground. I struggled for the knife, pulling it from his fingers and threw it. He punched me in the jaw while I tried to grab his hands, and I barely managed to dodge and fight off his next blows until I pinned his wrists down. He laughed in my face, “You’ll both end up dead.” Then, his eyes changed and looked up at me in confusion. The cold expression on his face vanished, and his brows knitted together while he attempted to pull his wrists free. “Rema… Rema… What’d I do?” It was his voice, he pulled lightly again. His eyes widening when he saw the blood and cuts on his arm, he looked at me with a panicked expression. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t… I don’t even… F**k, my f****n’ leg hurts…” I quickly let him go and he rolled onto his side, cursing loudly and holding the brace I had gotten for him. He must have overused the leg while he was altered. He looked over at me, then back at his arm. “You gonna hit me for this? Why’d ya let me go?” “No, Frey… I’m not going to hurt you…” It killed me to know that was what he first thought when coming back around, that I was pinning him down and going to hurt him because he hurt himself. That he thought I’d hit him after everything that he’d been through… He didn’t trust me… Even after everything. "Just relax." I said, sighing. “Com’ere. Let me help you.” He flinched away when I put my hand out to help him up, like he expected to be hit, and I pulled away and tried again slower. I walked him to the sofa, sat him down and gave him a smoke, with some pills and a glass of water. “I’m sorry… If I scared you…” He said, “It’s been… more active lately.” “Why?” I wondered. “I'm not sure." "This is why you need to talk about things more..." - -Frey- Rema had been putting in job applications constantly, and finally got an interview and left me for around three hours. I was alone for two of them, than that stuck up little brat came home and glared at me as soon as she walked in the door. “Where’s Rema?” She asked. “Job interview.” I told her plainly, pushing around the food on my plate. My stomach felt sick, but I was so hungry. “Good, then she can start putting food in the house to replace all the money you guys been eating up.” She hissed in a passive-aggressive manner. I clenched my fist, the monster encouraging me to shove the fork in her eye until I pulled it out of the socket. “What about you? I know you’re a f****n’ ex gang member, but can’t you get a damn job?” “The f**k told you I was a gang member?” I asked, taken back as I snapped my head up. “Do I look like a f****n’ gang member?” “Rema told me, dumbass.” “Well, I ain’t a f****n’ gang member… and that isn’t even why I can’t get a job… So f**k off.” “What are you, some irrespondisble f****n’ teenager?” She threw her hand up, her face twisting with disgust, “Can’t even work like a normal f*****g man and make a living for yourself? No wonder you were f****n’ homeless. What does she see in you? Just seem like some immature, insensitive a*****e to me.” “Yeah, and you seem like a junkie s**t b***h to me, who seeks attention from random strangers and f***s everything that moves because her daddy went for a pack of smokes and never came back.” I smirked at the shocked look on her face. For a moment, I thought she’d walk over and smack me, but lucky for her, she controlled herself because I would have broken her f****n’ face if she dared. “You know… F**k you…” She stomped out of the room dramatically and slammed her bedroom door. Rema came in the door at that exact moment, her eyes staring at Kacia’s door, then she looked at me. “What happened?” “Nothin’. She just acted like a little b***h so I told her she was one.” I shrugged. “How’d it go?” “Good. They said they aren’t saying a concrete yes, but I seem to be the perfect fit because of my flexible hours and past history of waitressing.” She said, sitting down at the table. “You feeling alright?” I nodded. “Just tired and sore… Not that bad though. I think a lot of the pain is starting to go away, it’s just my f****n’ leg now.” It was true. My body had started healing and was almost complete. The cuts and welts had closed up, the cigarette burns were mere scabs, and even the large lighter burn on my throat didn’t need a bandage anymore. Although, My leg was still a mess and hard to walk on, even though the nail holes had healed up by then. It made me feel anxious though, because I hated being stuck in that small apartment. I wanted to go out, feel the fresh air, and... maybe kill a few people while I’m at it… I’d love to vent my anger. “I’m glad you’re starting to feel better.” She smiled softly, her eyes having that glimmer of hope and love in them again. It made me feel awkward. “And you?” “Great, the wrist’s starting to feel better too… Soon I might not need this annoying brace.” I was honestly glad Rema was starting to come around and pull through, because she really was a mess during all of it. However, I couldn’t help but be a little bitter towards her. She was rather weak, and when I first met her seemed extremely so, yet she pulled through what happened with Zekk and what happened with The Man much faster than I did. She didn’t have night terrors every night, She didn’t want to die because of it, She got upset once in awhile, but it didn’t rule her life like it did mine. I started wondering if the roles had been reversed. When we met, I think I was the strong one out of the two of us, and she was weak and small… Now, it seems like I’ve gotten weak, and she’s moved up. I didn’t understand it… I woke up that night, again, not in the bed where I had fallen asleep. I was wandering the apartment building’s halls. I couldn’t remember getting out of bed and walking out of the apartment, and my leg was killing me like I had been walking around for a while. I looked down and saw splatters of blood on my clothes, and smudged on my hands but I had no idea how it got there, much less how I was even able to kill anyone with the shape I was in. I heard the Monster chuckle sinfully in my mind. The Monster had been strange lately. It was always awake, no longer taking it’s naps anymore. It was always listening and watching me, no matter what I was doing. It didn’t speak as much though, it seemed to just observe and that made me nervous. The blackouts had been happening a lot more, and I knew that was the Monster taking control. It happened around Rema a lot, and she always seemed unsettled by me, constantly watching me like she wasn’t sure if I was The Monster or myself. When I walked into the house, I saw Kacia sitting on the sofa, watching TV with a bottle of booze beside her and her make up overdone and smudged like she had just came home from another party or bar. The woman annoyed the hell out of me by simply existing. Her stuck up expression, judgemental eyes, and condescending tone of voice was more than enough to get under my skin. I think the only reason I didn’t murder this stupid woman was because she was friends with Rema. “What were you doing out there, scars? Getting drugs?” It was like she was asking me to murder her. She always had some rude comment to make, and a new nickname… At this point, it was “scars” which was extremely unoriginal seeing how most people called me that anyway. Scars and Freak were the most overused nicknames I got. “Don’t do drugs.” I told her, “What were you doing tonight? Getting fucked by a stranger or two?” I smirked at her insulted expression and watched her cross her arms like an angry child, trying to think of a come back. She probably was getting fucked by some strangers. “You know, you really are a rude a*****e.” “So I’ve been told.” I muttered, grabbing Rema’s pack of smokes she shared with me and lighting one. “Ya bothering to look for a job while you’re wandering the street?” I raised an eyebrow, gesturing down at myself, “Do I look like I can f*****g work?” She scanned me with her eyes, “If you aren’t a gang member who got jumped by his former gang, then what really happened to you?” She asked out of the blue. “I’m curious, I hear you screaming bloody murder every night like you’re being tortured half to death, who fucked you up so bad? What’d they do? Why?” “You really wouldn’t want to know. It’d give ya nightmares.” I told her in a flat tone, sitting down in one of the chairs and staring at the random reality show she was watching. “Look, I don’t really give a s**t about you. But whatever happened to you happened to or in front of Rema as well, and she’s obviously fucked up by it. So I’m curious.” “Why don’t you ask her then?” “Cause she just lies to me.” “Well, then you don’t need to know.” I said with a shrug. She glared at me, her eyes looking me up and down again. She paused, leaning a bit closer. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was focusing on something. “Would ya stop staring at me?” I snapped at her. “Is that blood?” She pointed to my shirt, the dark color of it not hiding the blood splatters all too well. I looked down at it and shrugged, “I dunno.” She gave me a strange look, then shut her mouth for the rest of the night. © 2017 SinbulvinterAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on April 20, 2017 Last Updated on April 26, 2017 Tags: serial killers, murder, horror, thriller, psychological, hurt/comfort, dark themes 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
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