7. Chapter Seven

Warning: Chapter contains Violence, Mild Blood/Gore, Attempted rape, and Murder.

-Rema-

I woke up to the bright morning sun burning my eyes and Kacia shaking me.  I winced at the light, head pounding while I wished I had remembered to draw my bedroom blinds... And hadn't drank so much the night before.

Kacia was looking at me curiously, her eyebrows knitted together with concern.  I wasn't used to seeing that expression on her face.  “Are you all right?” She asked, “I found a s**t load of bloody cloths and bandages on the living room floor.  Did something happen?”

I rubbed my eyes, confused for a second before I remembered the night before and finding Frey injured like he was. “Yeah, I'm fine.” I said, quickly getting out of bed and heading for the living room.

Frey fell asleep last night on the sofa shortly after I fixed him up and gave him food, convincing him to stay for the night.  The poor guy looked so exhausted as soon as he fell asleep I just shut off the lights and went back into my bedroom, expecting to talk to him some more in the morning and see if there was anything more I could do to help.  But, when I walked into the living room, he wasn't there.  He left before I even woke up.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Kacia asked, watching me as I cleaned up the bloody cloths and bandages off the floor.

“It wasn't me.  It's this guy I met a bit ago... He was hurt, and I took him here and fixed him up...” I said thoughtfully, beginning to look around the room.  Nothing appeared to be missing or out of place, if it wasn't for the bloody bandage it wouldn't have looked like he was there at all.

“Who?”

“He's homeless.  I met him about a week ago, and he showed up at my work hurt... I helped him out and he fell asleep on the couch.  I figured he'd still be here when I woke up...” I explained.

Kacia sighed loudly, beginning to look around as well. “You let some random homeless guy stay here for the night? Did he take anything?  I mean, he could have been a thief or a rapist or some s**t... You don't just bring homeless people in our house like they're lost puppies.”

“I know!” I snapped, “and he was hurt, what was I supposed to do?  I couldn't just leave him out there.”

She ran her hand through her hair. “Well, I don't know, Rema.  Maybe take him to a freakin' hospital?” She said sarcastically and I shot her a glare.

“He refused.”

“Oh, that's a great sign...” She muttered, throwing her hands up. “Well, I'mma go make some coffee and breakfast, just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt.”


I rolled my eyes as she left the room, continuing to double check to make sure everything was still here.  He hadn't stolen anything at all, and I felt kind of bad for assuming but Kacia was right, you never know what someone will do �" especially when they're in a difficult living situation like he was.  

I couldn't help but wonder why he left before I even got up, why he didn't even bother waiting for me or saying “thank you.”  I knew he had some issues with manners and was rather anti-social, but I would think he'd have enough sense to thank me for helping him instead of taking off in the middle of the night.  It made him even more frustrating and mysterious.

For a moment, my paranoia hit me hard.  What if he was dangerous?  Some kind of stalker or rapist or thief who came into my home, planning to come back later after he got an idea of what the inside looked like.  It'd explain his injuries and refusing to go to a hospital.   I knew almost nothing about him besides a first name and that he had been homeless for a number of years.  Everything else was secretive and vague with him.  

I felt the creeping feeling of a panic attack coming over me and had to force myself to calm my breathing.  I told myself over and over that I was okay, and probably just over reacting and shouldn't jump to assumptions so quick.   It was a fear hardwired in my head and I knew that.  I knew not everyone was out to get me, not every man was some kind of monster who wanted to harm me, but my mind always jumped right to that idea.  I reminded myself to be logical and play it safe, just keep doors locked and an eye open.


I went to work that night, called in on my day off to pick up a shift for another waitress who called out pretty often.  With the busyness of work, I nearly forgot about my strange run-in the night before and went about running around the bar, taking orders, making drinks, and dealing with rude customers.  

By the time work was done, my legs were so tired and I was at my wits end.  I started the walk home in a sour mood, stopping at the liquor store to pick up a bottle.  The pint was already half gone after two blocks and the booze was only making me angry this time around.


Suddenly, I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck �" that feeling that someone was watching me... Following me.  I glanced over my shoulder, noticing a man a few yards behind me.  I looked ahead quickly when he noticed me see him.

“Hey, you!” He called out, “Com'ere!”

I kept walking, ignoring him in hopes he'd go away.  For once, I didn't worry about only my safety... But his as well because I knew by now, if he came on too strong �" I'd snap and kill him.

“Woman, I'm talkin' to you! Hey!” his voice got louder and his footsteps caught up, walking beside me. “What you doing walking out here all by yourself, hmm?”

He was a heavier guy, probably around my age with short hair and a scruffy face.  His eyes were dark and egotistical and he dressed to match his eyes �" looking like a college frat boy who probably took advantage of plenty of drunk and naive girls.

“Want some company, babe?  A drinking buddy, maybe?” He gave me a grin that made my skin crawl, pointing towards the brown bag in my hand.  His eyes lingering on my cleavage and I quickly pulled my shirt up to try for some modesty.

“Not interested.” I said, my voice tight.

“You don't gotta be rude, babe... No point in playing hard to get.” He said, chuckling. “So, how much?”

I narrowed my eyes, “Excuse me?” I snapped.

“How much you charge then?” he asked, chin high and shoulders back. “Don't play games.  I'm pretty sure I could afford you.”

“I'm not a w***e.  Now f**k off.” I hissed.

I wasn't in the mood.  My blood was starting to boil and it almost seemed like this a*****e was just provoking me.  He was so offensive and objectifying towards me, it was like he wanted me to beat his head into mush.  I felt disrespected.  I never liked feeling disrespected.  It was something I promised myself I'd never let another man do to me since my husband.


He reached out to grab my arm when I started walking faster, his hand closing around my upper arm tightly and in an instant the action pushed me into that place.  His rough grip reminded me of my husband, and I flashed from victim to attacker before I even realized.

I smashed the bottle against his head, causing it to break within the bag and split a cut in his temple.  He jerked back, hand holding the wound as blood crept passed his fingers.

“F****n' b***h! What the f**k!?” He snapped at me, eyes red with anger.

I didn't even bother to give it a second thought and swiped at him with the broken bottle like a feral cat.  “Think I'm a w***e, huh?” My face twisted into a scowl. “Is that what you think about every woman? We're just w****s you can f**k?”

The glass cut his arm when he tried to defend himself, and he stumbled backwards.  I kicked his shins, knocking him down.  I stalked around him like a hawk when he hit the ground, the broken bottle dripping blood and vodka.

“I'm not a w***e.” I hissed in a hushed voice, straightening my back.  I cracked my neck, stepping sideways when he kicked at me.  In response, I slashed him again with the broken glass.

“No, you're just a psycho b***h!” He screamed at me, “What the f**k is wrong with you, you crazy f*****g c**t!”

I snapped, lunging toward him in a couple large steps.  I stuck the edge of the bottle into the side of his neck and dragged it across, opening a large gash that exposed muscle and tissue and split blue veins.  Blood gushed out like a fountain, spilling onto the sidewalk.  He choked and spat crimson, body seizing and twitching in shock.  But, in minutes he was dead.


I stumbled backwards a few steps, sinking down the wall and onto the sidewalk.  My eyes darted around to make sure there was no witnesses or cameras in sight, then the guilt hit me like it always did.  The regret weighed hard on me, wishing I had handled it differently, but as soon as I drew blood I knew I was already gone.  

I vomited on the ground, puking up my dinner tainted with the burning taste of alcohol.  My eyes teared up as I held back my hair, throwing up again.  Great job, Rema... Just leave your DNA all over a crime scene...


I forced myself to calm down, beginning to whimper as my shaking fingers dialed.  I held the phone up to my ear, hearing the ringing tone deafen me.

“Please, please, pick up...”

Finally, at nearly five rings... Zekk answered. “Hey, Rema.” His voice sounded cheerful, and it made my heart ache.  When I only answered with weeping sounds, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I need you to come get me.” I said, sniffling, “It happened again.”

A pause, and then I heard him sigh. “Where are you and where's the body?”

That was all he asked, no other questions, no judgments... He just hung up and drove right to me, telling me to wait in the car and keep an eye out while he dealt with the mess.  The body was wrapped in plastic and dumped in his trunk and he poured bleach down over the blood and vomit before he dumped a gallon of water to wash it mostly away.  

Zekk closed the driver's side door loudly, exhaling as he stuck the keys in.  He glanced over at me, his eyes softening, “You hurt?”

I shook my head, remaining curled up on the seat with my eyes focused out the window.

We drove in awkward silence for a bit before he spoke up again. “Come stay with me for the night, 'kay?”

I looked over, chewing on my fingernail. “I don't wanna be more of a bother than I already am...”

“You aren't a bother, Rema.” His voice tightened, “I wish you'd stop saying s**t like that.  Yeah, I don't like cleaning up these bodies and risking getting caught, but you're my friend and I ain't just gonna turn my back on you...  You just... You need some help, Rema... You gotta realize that by now.”

“What, go to a shrink and tell them I'm a f*****g murderer with a drinking problem and  PTSD?” I snap, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “They'll lock me up right away, probably put me on all kinds of meds... I'll lose everything.”

He groaned, hands tightening around the wheel.  “No, don't tell them you... kill people... Just talk to somebody about what happened between you and your husband, and how it affects you to this day.  The panic attacks, flashbacks, all that s**t isn't normal, Rema.  It's probably the root of the problem.” He said, then added after a pause, “I mean, you won't even talk to me about your husband... You don't even say his name, like it's a curse or something.”

I didn't answer him, remained quiet as we drove to his place.  Even though Zekk was the only one who truly knew who I was and what I did, I could never talk to him about anything.  The murder just made him nervous and preach to me about how I needed help �" and talking about the abuse in my past marriage only made him upset.  I couldn't talk to him, or Kacia, or anyone about any of it.   So I just drank it away and bottled it up until it exploded.

Author's Note

This ended up being kind of a shorter chapter, and only in Rema's POV.
Rema wakes up to find Frey just took off in the middle of the night without even so much as a thank you, like the ungrateful jerk he is. This makes her somewhat paranoid about him.
On her way home from work, she's bothered by an asshole guy who assumes she's a hooker and attempts to take advantage of her. Yeah, big mistake for that dude.
You also get to see a little more of Zekk and his relationship with Rema.

Reviews are welcome and I'm very thankful for any feedback I get. I usually review back as well.

Reviews

[Emperor Pius Dei]

Well, I'm certainly intrigued. This was very interesting to read, and I look forward to reading more. My only advice is this: You use a LOT of cussing, and that has given your story a certain tone, however my understanding is that you want the tone to be very dark, gritty, serious, and maybe even realistic. Swearing in the manner that you do chives that, but I've found as both a writer and a reader that you can achieve all those things without swearing. Its very difficult, but if you do, I think it will work much much better. I guess its kind of too late now; maybe if you do another re-write. Anyways, I enjoyed this; great job.

[Sinbulvinter]

I'm glad you're intrigued by it thus far, and that you've enjoyed it.
yes, while I am aiming for a more dark and gritty tone, swearing is something I actually never intended to do constantly. I swear very often in real life, pretty much comparable to a sailor. hah. It ended up being put over into my story, I've noticed, without me really trying to. That is something I'll keep in mind, and tone down a little. I do see what you mean and agree with you on that point, and prehaps whenever I get the time I'd go back and revise some of it - editing out some of the cussing.
Thanks for taking the time to read and review. I hope to have the next chapter up tonight, actually.

[ThyFilthyNoob]

Rema's realism is awesome. Like a real person, and her roommate was actually acting like a normal person would this day in age. How you can switch emotions so quickly in a single scene is crazy, going from to concern to sarcasm so smoothly, I didn't even realize I was reading until it was over lol.
Keep up the good work.

[Sinbulvinter]

Thanks so much for taking the time to read and give your feedback. I'm glad you enjoy Rema's character, this story has been revised many times and one issue has always been Rema's character not being very likable. I had to change her character several times just to get her traits more realistic and likable (in previous versions, she was rather weak-minded and pitiful.)
I'm glad it came off as realistic and that I pulled that off well. Thanks again for reading, I'm glad you're liking it.