9. Chapter Nine

Cat's out of the bag

Warning: Chapter contains violence leading to murder, attempted sexual assault, brief descriptions of self-harm, mentions of insomnia and disordered eating, mentions of domestic violence, and themes and subjects that may upset, trigger, or disturb a sensitive reader.

-Rema-

“Get off, a*****e! You're drunk!” I screamed, struggling half-heartedly to get away from the invasive hands.

Sal was a man I worked with for the last few months, a cook in the kitchen who often hit on me and stared at me enough to make me extremely uncomfortable. I figured he was just one of those types, never expected him to force himself upon me in the back outside of the bar on our break.

I could taste the booze on his breath when he smashed his lips clumsily into mine. Growling, I bit down as a warning; almost hard enough to draw blood before he pulled back and smacked me across the face.

“Quit fighting!” He hissed, his hands struggling to hold mine in place.

“Get off!” I repeated, “I'm not f*****g interested. Let go of me, or you'll f****n' regret it!”

I didn't know what it was about me that drew these kinds of men. Maybe it was the way I dressed or the manner in which I held myself. Maybe I was just unlucky and fated to be attacked like this and forced to kill. I knew Sal for a while, and I wouldn't have called him a bad guy up until that night �" I didn't want to kill him. I didn't want to... But I knew I had to.

“Sal, I'm begging you �" stop!” I yelled as I felt his hands begin to undo my jeans. I snapped, my mind splitting off and that animalistic fighting spirit took over.

I kneed him hard in the stomach and yanked my hands free. “I asked you nicely.” My voice almost sang, “I told you you'll regret it!” I drove my elbow into the back of his neck and then kneed him in the jaw before he could hit the floor.

“I'm not a s**t.” I told him, “I'm not some little toy you can use and dispose of... I said no, and you really should have listened, sweetie.” I scolded him, almost like a Mother would.

“F****n' psycho b***h.” He muttered, spitting blood into my face when he looked up at me.

I lost it at that and just grabbed his hair and smashed his face again and again into the wall. His head hit the brick over and over, until he collapsed to the ground in a bloody mess. I stared down at his corpse, feeling the shame begin to come over me like a thick rain cloud.

I bit back a whimper, hating myself deep down. I could have done something else... I could have just knocked him out and let him live... I didn't have to kill him. I could have found another way to make him stop. I could have-

I jumped when I heard slow clapping. I quickly whipped around, being met by a familiar figure leaning on a wall a few yards away from me. Frey...

How long had he been there, watching me?

“I... It isn't... It isn't what it looks like!” I panicked, trying to explain myself. “He, he attacked me. I was only... I was only trying to defend myself. I didn't mean to kill him! I didn't!”

He smirked, that crooked lopsided grin with broken teeth. “Sure looks like ya did.”

“You won't tell on me, right?” I pleaded, “I really didn't mean to. I swear it. I'm not, I'm not a killer! I-”

“Yeah, ya are. Don't gotta lie.” He pushed off the wall, strolling over almost casually. He peered down to study Sal's body, he wasn't shocked, or freaked out, or even bothered by it at all...

“I'm not lying! I didn't mean to! Please don't tell anyone. Please, I-”

“It's fine...” He straightened, looking at me with that strange smirk again. “I do it too.”

I gaped, eyes wide. Did I hear him right? Was he f*****g with me? He didn't mean... He didn't mean...

He laughed, almost obnoxiously. “That look is f****n' priceless, woman.” He said, “It all makes sense now. I get it. I get what drew me to you. It makes total f****n' sense. I mean, who'd f*****g guess some sweet lookin' city girl would be a murderer! God, it's f****n' priceless!”

I swallowed, “You... What do you mean, you do it too?”

He waved towards the body, “Kill people. Com'on, ya ain't that dense.” His chuckling died off and he wiped his eyes.

“You... How long were you out here? How long have you been watching me?”

“Tonight? For about an hour...” He said.

I glared at him, “You didn't bother helping me?”

“Monster told me not to...” He shrugged, “And it seems like you handled yourself just fine without me anyway.”

I tilted my head, “Monster?”

He just chuckled again, but didn't answer me. I was about to call Zekk and tell him about the body before I noticed Frey lifting his hand to puff on a cigarette and saw the blood dripping from under his sleeve.

“Are you hurt again?” I shoved my phone back in my pocket, “You're bleeding.”

He glanced down at his arm, shrugging. “Yeah, what of it?” He said casually.

I reached forward, grabbing his arm. I barely noticed him flinch when I snatched at him and yanked up his sleeve. I wasn't expecting lines of fresh, open gashes up and down his arm, bleeding heavily. “Frey, what the hell?”

He didn't even pull away to hide it. “Ain't that bad.”

“Did you do this to yourself?”

“Keeps me awake.” He didn't even seem ashamed of it, he acted like it was normal �" like self-harm was nothing.

I sighed, “Com'on, you f****n' idiot...” I mumbled, yanking down his sleeve and pulling him by his wrist down the alley to the sidewalk. “You were stabbed and almost died just over a week ago, now you're cutting yourself? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you wanna die?”

“Well, yeah...” He said. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, or actually wanted to kill himself. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my apartment. You're bleeding all over the place, covered in dirt, and look like you're freezing.” I told him as I yanked him down the street, texting Zekk on my phone while I walked so he'd take care of the body and make sure no cameras caught the murder.

I got Frey up to my apartment, washing his sliced up wrists off in the sink before I bandaged them. I shook my head at his annoyed expression, as ungrateful as I remembered. I pushed him into the living room and over to the sofa. “Sit down, I'm getting you something to eat. You look like you haven't eaten in days.”

“I'm fine. Food will make me sleep. I don't want it.” he said.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why don't you want sleep?”

He didn't answer me.

I looked him over again, taking in the pale, washed out appearance of his scarred face and the dark circles under his eyes. “When was the last time you ate?”

He shrugged, “Five or six days?”

“Idiot.” I grumbled, flopping down beside him on the sofa. I glared when he moved away from me, flinching again. “Why do you do that? Flinch when I come near you?”

He just shrugged again, “Instinct?”

We sat in silence for a bit, I wasn't sure what to say. He had witnessed me murder someone in cold blood, and not only wasn't judging me for it �" he said he did it himself, and seemed almost proud of the way I killed Sal. I never dealt with anything like this before. The only one who knew what I really did was Zekk, and he frowned upon me killing and said I needed help constantly. Frey... Frey looked almost like he encouraged it.

“Do you have a cigarette? I ran out.” He asked after a bit.

I nodded and handed him my pack, telling him to keep it. I sighed while I lit my own and watched him for a moment. “You aren't screwing with me, are you? You actually kill people?”

He glanced over, “Why does that surprise you? I've always been told I look like a psycho freak, shouldn't come as a shock that I actually am one.”

I frowned, tapping my fingers on my leg. “You won't tell on me?”

He shook his head.

“Why do you do it?” I asked after a moment, staring at the burning cherry of my cigarette.

“I hate people.” He said, leaning back on the sofa. “They're useless. This world is useless. Everything's a f*****g hopeless mess here and nothing really matters. They're all useless.” He sighed, eyes sliding closed for a minute. “It's all I'm good at anyway... It's the only way I can afford food or cigarettes or drinks... Got no other skills anyway... F**k, I can barely read. I'm pretty much nothing but a worthless, fucked up murderer. It's all I'm good for.”

My eyes softened. Despite the hatefulness in his words, I could see this man had no self-esteem and that he hated himself as much as he hated the world. “Where'd you get those ideas?”

He chuckled, but the sound was painful and forced. “It's a long story.”

“You kill to survive... Haven't you tried getting a job and living like a normal person instead of murdering people?” I asked, wincing at the harshness of my own voice, expecting him to become angry with me.

He didn't. He just shrugged and leaned forward to ash his cigarette. “I don't have a name... I can't read or write. I never even went to school... No place would hire me...”

I bit into my lip, my eyes casting away with regret. I remained silent for a bit, digesting his words. “You don't have a name? I thought you said your name was Frey.”

He laughed again, and again it sounded forced. “Frey isn't my name. I don't know my actual name... Frey's just a name someone gave to me...”

“How do you not know your actual name?”

“I don't remember it. Actually, there's a lot of s**t I don't remember... My name, exactly how old I am, my family, Where I was born, pretty much everything before around ten is just a black hole. I can't remember none of it.” He said. His voice sounded so empty, numb to everything, but his words confused me.

“Like amnesia? Why? How?”

He shrugged again, “I don't know... I just remember nothing before the basement.”

“Basement?” I questioned. I wished he wasn't so vague about things, could just be straight forward, the way he talked just made my head hurt trying to piece everything together.

He looked at me, but I saw nothing in his eyes. Nothing at all. “Trust me, you don't wanna know.”

“Uh...Okay?”

“Well... What about you? Why do you kill?” He asked, a bored tone in his voice.

I swallowed, looking down. “My husband... He was really... He was a violent man and had, had a short temper... He'd get angry at me a lot, hurt me... Force himself on me... Insult me... He made me feel like there was no way out, no way to escape him... He convinced me I was too weak to make it on my own and that I deserved to be treated like s**t.” I was afraid to look up, afraid to see Frey's expression, but when I got the courage to look up I saw no judgment in his face. No pity or disgust. He was just listening, watching me.

I fiddled with my hands, picking at my painted nails. “One night, he went off worse than usual... Threw me down a flight of stairs, smashed my face in with a lamp... Kicked me in the stomach... I was six months pregnant...” I choked, tears starting to rise in my eyes. “I lost the baby... When I got home from the hospital, he didn't even care... Didn't even bat an eye that he had murdered our child... I waited until he slept... I, I got a knife from the kitchen and, while he was sleeping, I stabbed him over, and over, and over... Covering his face with a pillow to muffle his screams...”

I paused, puffing on my cigarette hard for a few long drags. I peered over at Frey, who was still staring at me, waiting for me to go on.

“After that, I just... started thinking every man was a monster. Started thinking everyone was going to hurt me, rape me, attack me... I was terrified of men, and I still am... A man would just touch me and I'd enter a flashback and kill them... I'm just... paranoid... Afraid that someone's gonna hurt me like he did... I won't let it happen again...”

“So ya kill'em.” He said, nodding, “Makes sense... Never got the fun of hurting innocent women... It makes men seem like cowards.”

“It doesn't disgust you?” I asked, “You don't think I'm nuts?”

He laughed, “I just don't get why you don't wanna kill me, I'm a man.”

“You're... different... You don't have that vibe about you... Yeah, you're creepy but not in a perverted way. In fact, I don't think I've ever even seen you look down my shirt.” I said, grinning thoughtfully.

Come to think of it, it was strange. I didn't like men, didn't trust them. I avoided danger at all costs, and Frey was the embodiment of danger and threat... Yet, I felt almost comfortable around him... I didn't feel the urge to fight or flight. I didn't feel like that danger was directed at me.

“Don't take it personally. Ain't interested in women.” He said.

My grin grew, eyes widening a bit. “Didn't take you for being gay.”

He made a sour face, tensing for a moment. “Not gay. Just ain't interested... Women, men, or anything...” he sounded insulted.

I lifted my eyebrows at his overreaction, putting my hands up in a passive move. “Calm down. I didn't mean to offend you. You said you weren't interested in chicks, I just assumed-”

“Assumed I liked being fucked by men? No.” He snapped, “I just ain't attracted to anybody. It's disgusting. You're all disgusting.”

I swallowed, giggling nervously. “Okay... I get it...” I brushed my hair behind my ear, putting out my cigarette. I glanced over at the smell of burning flesh to see Frey was putting his out on his hand. I snatched his wrist and yanked away the butt, throwing it in the ashtray. I smacked him upside the head, “The f**k is wrong with you? There's an ashtray right there, idiot!”

He shoved me away, “I was gettin' tired.” His eyes narrowed, a darkness appearing in them I didn't like. “Don't f****n' smack me like that again.”

I stilled, returning the glare. “You're the one putting cigarettes out on yourself, I barely hit you.” I returned. “Why do you want to avoid sleep so bad if you're that tired?”

He looked away, breaking the death stare we were giving each other. “I just don't wanna sleep.”

“Well, I'll make you coffee then... Don't hurt yourself... Geez. Isn't that some teenaged emo s**t?”

“I wouldn't know. I'd think you drinking every night is some midlife crisis s**t, but you don't see me sayin' s**t about it.” He countered, that cocky smirk back on his face.

I flexed my jaw, eyes darting back and forth thoughtfully. “Have you been following me?”

His smirk grew, “Actually, yes.”

“Creep.” I hissed, “What the f**k? Seriously?”

“I was curious...” He shrugged.

I glared at him, feeling violated. Did he not realize how creepy that is? How long had he been following me? I felt uncomfortable again, moving away from him a bit. “Why would you follow me around? You realize how creepy that is?”

“I was curious,” He repeated, “Wanted to know more about you... Why the Monster was so interested in you.”

“Monster?” I cocked an eyebrow. “What Monster?”

“It's a Monster that lives inside of me. It talks to me. It actually encouraged me to speak with you, instead of just ignoring you.” he sounded so casual, like it was completely normal to hear voices.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, who this man really was. Not only was he a homeless serial killer who had some sort of amnesia and was covered in scars, but he was insane. Not even to mention that he had been stalking me. I didn't understand how I wasn't threatened by someone like this. I knew I should have been, but I wasn't... I was intrigued.

Author's Note

Okay so... They know they're both killers, and kind of bond on this fact. Rema, having no one who truly understands her, feels compelled to invite Frey to live with her (despite him being a freakin' stalker psychopath). And Frey, having truly no one and no where to go, agrees.
We learn more about them and we learn their main reasons that brought them to kill, or at least Rema's... Since Frey's all secretive and vague and shit and won't go into his full story this early.
Rema's description of her first kill (her abusive husband) changed a little as well, and sometime I actually plan to write a short story based on this event - where she kills her abusive husband in his sleep.
Rema's motives for killing are a bit more in depth and complex than previous versions. Being a battered woman, she does suffer from PTSD and will "black-out" when she feels threatened. She also doesn't trust men, at all. As shown in previous chapters, she has also killed men she's known to be abusive or "bad", even if she doesn't know the men all too well (this trait is kind of adapted from Adare, actually... Fuck, I actually really miss that character existing before I deleted the second volume...)
Frey's reasons are pretty simple - he kills 'cause it's all he knows and all he can do to survive, and because the Monster won't leave him alone if he doesn't. Well, that and because he's simply just a screwed up person who hates the whole human race... heh...

Reviews make me very happy, so... Reviews would be great... Yeahhh....
(WritersCafe?YUSODEAD!?)