5. Chapter Five

A deeper look into Rema's mindset

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Mild Blood/Gore, Domestic Violence, and themes that may disturb or upset a sensitive reader.

-Rema-

The music played loud as I wiped down the counter, cleaning up the split drink as the customer left the bar counter. I cracked open a third beer for an elderly man, smiling sweetly as he thanked me and called me a “purdy lady” with glassy eyes. My gaze focused across the room at a couple arguing at a booth, even with the loud music �" I could hear them yelling.

I frowned and tried not to listen in, my stomach feeling sick. I poured another shot for a woman at the counter as she swore to her friends it was “the last one, for real this time.”

The couple continued to fight, their voices carrying, almost sticking out to me louder than the music and other sounds of the bar.

“She's a f*****g w***e! I don't understand why you'd even f**k her!”

“Well, she's a better goddamn f**k than you, at least she don't b***h all the time!”

“I wouldn't be bitching if you actually helped out a little and spent some time with your son instead of spending all your time out doing god knows what god knows where! You don't even know your own kid anymore!”

“Shut the f**k up, b***h! Don't you tell me what to do, stupid b***h!” The man yelled, “You're f****n' hopeless, you wonder why I f**k other b*****s and don't wanna spent time with you and the brat. You're f****n' impossible to deal with, I swear, you're like a whiny crybaby sometimes. Just f**k off.”

I swallowed hard, the words cutting into me as if they were directed towards me. I tried to distract myself, wiping the counter top needlessly to focus on anything else besides the couple's yelling. I glanced back over when the woman stood up, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“F**k you, I'm done! I'm f*****g done!” She began to walk away, most likely leaving the bar.

The man stood up in a flash, drunken feet stumbling as he reached out and grabbed her arm. He yanked her toward him with force, his grip tight around her arm. “Don't you f****n' walk away from me!” He snapped, screaming into her face.

She struggled, cursing at him and demanding to be let go �" only to be smacked hard across the face, the impact causing me to flinch. She held her cheek and I saw the tears on her face, her features twisted with pain and anger.

“Don't make me do this in public, b***h.” He hissed.

If anyone had noticed it, No one in that bar bothered to step in and speak up for the girl. I clenched my fists, jaw tight in my mouth. It all was too familiar to me, opening wounds that had only healed recently. I couldn't breathe, my chest hurt and eyes burned. It felt like my blood was boiling... It reminded me of things I just couldn't forget no matter how hard I tried.

He was drunk again, I could tell by the way he shuffled his feet when he walked in the door and the carelessness he used when he slammed it shut. I quickly checked to make sure the house was clean and dishes were washed, wanting to avoid a flip out.

“Where's dinner?”

“There isn't any.”

It was after eight. I was home alone and didn't make anything. I almost never had an appetite anymore.

“What? Did you eat it all, f****n' wasteful cow?” He mumbled, storming into the kitchen to throw open the fridge.

“I didn't make anything for dinner.” I explained, “You said you were working late and wouldn't be home by dinner.”

I knew he wasn't working late, he probably got off when he usually did and just went straight to the bar to get drunk and f**k some blond w***e. I knew he had lied about it, but I didn't tell him that.

“God, you're just f****n' lazy then, huh?” He threw his arms up in the air, slamming the fridge shut �" The impact made me jump.

Lost in a trance, I noticed the man leave his girlfriend crying at the booth. Instead of comforting the abused woman, I followed her abuser outside the bar without a second thought. Stalking him down the street.

“I'm not lazy.” I mumbled, “I cleaned the whole house.”

He mocked clapping, “Well f****n' congrats to you, you got off your a*s for once, you lazy f**k!”

I rolled my eyes, rubbing my forehead to relieve the stress. I didn't even see the fist coming until it made contact with my cheek. My face throbbed as I looked up at him, towering over me as I sat on the floor where I landed. I saw the anger twist his face and covered mine when he went for another strike.

His fists rained down on me like a storm, the sounds of flesh pounding flesh reminded me of thunder. He cursed at me, kicking me with poor aim in the chest. I curled into a ball.

“You're a f****n' useless s**t, you know that?” He screamed at me.

“Stop, f*****g a*****e!” The tears were hot on my face. It all happened so fast.

“I work all day and come home hungry and all you do is sit around like a goddamn useless b***h!” His breath smelled like booze and cheap cigarettes, it made me gag.

“Stop it, or I'll f****n' leave your a*s! I swear it this time!”

Same song and dance. I always swore to leave, sometimes I did, but I always came back... Every time.

“Sure, go ahead, leave you worthless w***e. Who the f**k would want you anyway? You think you could survive on your own? No body would ever love you, you'll never find anyone better than me. You'll die alone, you ugly b***h!” He kicked me again and I closed my mouth, curling up into a ball and waiting for the beating to finish.

My hands rolled into fists as I watched the drunk man walk down the empty street, mumbling to himself under his breath. He reminded me of my husband, the same tall build, same dark hair, same hateful, egotistical aura. My mind flashed back to him hitting his girlfriend or wife, or whatever she was. He was exactly the same, a ghost of my past. Even though my husband was dead, his memory followed me everywhere I went �" I couldn't escape.

I took large steps forward, picking up my pace until I caught up to him. I snatched the back of his shirt and threw him into an alley, his drunken state making him stumble and fall on his a*s. I saw the confusion come across his face.

“You like to hit women, huh?” I said playfully, my voice coming off as sweet. “Wanna test your luck, hun?”

His eyebrows knitted together, eyes darting around as he tried to understand my words. A look of realization came over his face when he recognized me from the bar.

“That ain't none of your business, b***h.” He hissed at me, “Best you get lost, before you get hurt little girl.”

I smiled, tilting my head. “I am making it my business... So, com'on... Lets have some fun. Why don't you try hitting me like you hit that girl? Com'on now.”

He wrinkled his nose, beginning to get to his feet. “You're nuts, lady.”

“Yup.” I said with a giggle, then kicked him in the stomach. I kicked him again when he hit the ground, pressing the heel of my shoe into his throat. I leaned down, a mocking tone to my voice. “What? You don't like when the fight back, huh? Takes all the fun out of it. Then you can't be a big tough man, huh?”

He smacked my leg away and I kicked him in the head, making him grunt in pain. “It isn't your business! F**k off!”

“Oh, but it is...” I said, reaching into my back pocket to pull my knife. I flipped it open, running the blade across my tongue as he backed away, disgust on his face. “You're a coward. You use others who are weaker than you to make you feel strong. You use them as verbal and physical punching bags, convincing them that it's their fault and they deserve it. That they'll never find someone who loves them as much as you do.”

“You don't know what you're talking about!” He screamed at me, veins popping out of his neck as his face turned red.

“No, you see... I do. Because I married a guy like you, and he did all that s**t to me that you do to your girl. I married a guy just like you...And you know what else?” I asked, my voice childish and innocent as I stepped towards him, knife up in front of my face. My grin turned demented. “I killed him.”

His eyes widened, looking from the blade to me and back to the knife. “G-Get away!”

I flashed forward, lunging at him too quick for his booze-soaked brain to handle and slammed his head backwards onto the ground. Blood splattered onto the pavement, red and thick and warm. I smiled when it got on my hands, and painted his shocked face with it.

His eyes went from shocked to horrified when I held the knife to his throat, and he opened his mouth to spew useless pleas for his life. I wondered how often his girlfriend begged for him to stop, and how often he ignored her like I was ignoring him.

I slid it across, the metal piercing the flesh almost gracefully. Blood sprayed from the gash in his neck, it gushed over his lips and down his chin. He choked on it and it made my smile grow even wider. He deserved it... He deserved it... He deserved it.

I watched him die. I sat there and looked into his eyes and watched his life slowly and painful end while he choked and spat blood out of his mouth. That girl was better off without him... He deserved it.

After the high wore off and the sense of sick pride slipped away, I felt like I hit a brick wall of shame and self-loathing. I felt unclean, filthy. I was playing god, killing people for being “bad” in my opinion... I hated these violent people so much I killed them and became the very thing I hated.

I walked home, not bothering to call Zekk until I had already left the scene. I didn't feel like seeing or talking to him, or anyone for that matter. I went straight into the bathroom and began washing the dried blood off my hands.

The water ran red in the sink and I couldn't even look at my own reflection, I turned the water on hot. So hot it burned my hands and created clouds of steam. I still felt the sticky blood on my hands, even when it washed down the drain. I couldn't remove the stains. It was like the blood had seeped into my skin and stained my very being.

I caught my reflection in the mirror, and was met by cold, bloodshot eyes that looked like they didn't even belong to me. I didn't even know the woman I saw... And I hated her. I watched the tears fall, and slight whimpers escaped me. It didn't matter how hard I scrubbed or how hot the water was...

Nothing could get rid of the stain.

Author's Note

This is a bit of a deeper look into Rema's character, hints of her backstory, and her mindset before, during, and after she commits a murder.
This chapter mostly shows the changes in her character compared to the previous version of her character. I added a bit of edge to her character, and a bit more aggression, while she still holds her remorseful reaction after she commits murder.

Yeah, as you can see, Rema kind of has a "type" of target, which is usually men who appear as aggressive or abusive. Sometimes, her judgements of the men is incorrect and just out of paranoia from PTSD, other times it's like this - where she witnesses the abuse from a man and kills him for it.
The murder scene here was rather fun to write, although all murder scenes are fun for me to write. lol.

Reviews would be awesome, any feedback, constructive criticism, or just thoughts is appreciated!