5. True Colors

When he tries to kill her, Frey learns the hard way that Rema isn't as defenseless as she seems.

-Rema-

I wake up in the morning to Kacia shaking me. I yawn and shove her away, rubbing my eyes and looking at her in annoyance.  What the hell does she want now?

"Wanna tell me who the random dude is sleeping in the living room?" She asks in a quiet voice.

"He's homeless." A dumb answer, but I'm tired.

"Oh, that clears everything up. So who's the random homeless dude sleeping in our living room?  I know you got low standards, but I didn't think you were the type to bring home hobos."

I glare at her. D****t, I didn't get enough sleep for this. "I found him and he was hurt and had a really bad infection. It was freezing outside so I bought him home."

"He's homeless, not a puppy, Rema.  You don't just bring random homeless people home with you. What if he was some kind of serial killer or rapist?" She asks.

She's brought home plenty of weird guys herself, or did she forget about that?  In the last month she's brought home drug addicts, drunks, perverts who were twice her age, even shady-looking thugs.  I bring home one person, and she throws a hussy fit over it.

"He could hardly walk and looked like he hasn't eaten in days, I don't think he's much of a threat." I groan, pulling the covers off me.

"Well he can't stay here, money's rough enough as it is - We can't just take in people off the streets. Drop him off at a shelter or something." She says rudely, indifferent to my words.  That's just like her. She's always been so cynical.

"I know... Geez, lay off..." I mumble, "What would you do? Just let the guy die out there?"

"Yeah, it isn't my problem." I swear, she can be a real heartless b***h sometimes...


Frey slept most of the day soundly, not even waking up when Kacia had a screaming match with her boyfriend of the week over the phone.  The guy must have been exhausted and just crashed. 

Dinner time comes up quickly, and I order pizza and walk over to the sofa to try to wake up our visitor.  I only lightly shake his shoulder, but he snaps awake, shoves me and falls onto the floor with a thud.  Despite the fact I probably scared the poor guy half to death, I almost laugh at how cute his reaction is.

"Hey, hey. Calm down. I'm not going to do anything to you." I tell him, giggling.

He glares at me with a look that quickly silences my giggles. "Where am I?"

"Don't look at me as if I kidnapped you... I found you last night. Remember? You had a nasty infection I had to clean out."

He looks around, memory seemingly coming back. "Right." He nods, pulling himself off the floor. That darkness flashes over his eyes again for a second before disappearing.

"How do you feel?"

He doesn't answer me, his eyes searching the room cautiously.

"I just ordered food. You hungry?"

Still no reply.  I forgot how much this guy doesn't talk.

I sit down on the chair next to the sofa, putting a serious face on. "Um, I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you? Take you to a shelter or something?"

"No. I'll just leave once I have the strength to walk again."

"Are you in some kind of trouble? Is somebody after you or something?"

"What?" He seems almost insulted.

"I mean, you obviously got attacked. You have scars all over you and keep looking around like somebody's gotta pop out of the shadows. Plus, you won't tell me anything about yourself or even let me take you to a hospital.  Seems like you're hiding from someone."

He doesn't answer me, just stares with narrowed eyes at the floor.

"You could go to the police... They'd get who ever did this to you."

"What makes you think I'm the victim?" He mumbles under his breath.

I swallow hard. A feeling of doom coming over me.

I jump when the door bell rings and I quickly get up to answer it, taking the pizza and bringing it into the kitchen.  With my back turned, I cut it and place it on plates.  Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me, and look over my shoulder to see him with a bloody knife in his hand.

Before I can react, he comes at me and I barely dodge in time. I kick him in the injured leg, throwing him off balance long enough for me to grab my own pocket knife and point it at his throat.  "Don't make me do this."

I'm shocked when he grabs my wrist and presses the tip of the blade into his neck. As if to dare me to do it.  Those cold eyes almost egging me on.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yank my hand away from him and he swings his blade, cutting into my arm slightly when I step out of the way.  I kick him again to knock him backwards.

"Come on, stop. I don't want to do this again."

His brows press together, that black in his eyes fading. "Again?"

I keep the knife pointed at him, my breathing heavy.  Stupid. So stupid to let somebody like this come into my house!  For once, Kacia was right: The guy really is a murderer! "Get back!"

He chuckles, "What are the chances two killers would meet each other. Small world."

That's it.  That's what I saw in him.  That's how he's like me... He... Does what I do...

He sighs heavily. "Go on, kill me. I don't really care anymore. I just wanna go back to sleep." He mumbles, dropping the blade.  That sadistic look turns into a broken expression.  I almost feel bad for him.

I don't move an inch, my hand shaking now as I point the knife at him.  I jump when he grabs my wrist again, pressing the blade back to his throat and looking me dead in the face.  Is he messing with me? Provoking me? Or does he really want me to kill him?

"What the hell is wrong with you!" I yell, yanking my hand away again.


-Frey-

Angry that I got out done by a f*****g woman, the voice directs my hand to grab my own blade off the floor and press it to my neck. I start to slide it across and I wonder if it's trying to kill me.

The woman's eyes widen and she drops her knife, grabbing my arm and yanking my knife away and chucking it across the room.  Why is she trying to stop me?

The girl seemed sweet.  Took me in and cleaned my wounds, even fed me.  I should feel bad about trying to kill her, but I don't.  I really didn't expect her to actually try to kill me in return.  Then state she's a murderer herself. She doesn't seem like the type.  Just too young, pretty, and innocent appearance wise. Plus, she seems much too caring to take a life, but I know that look when she held the weapon.  I have the same look I wear when I kill people.  Her reflexes were fast, too fast just to be random self-defense out of fear.  It was instinct.

"Stop it!" She grabs my wrists, shaking me. "What the f**k is wrong with you?" She screams again. "You try to kill me, then just try to kill yourself? What the hell is your problem?"

The voice gives me back control of my body and I stare at her blankly. I try to read the expression in her eyes. Fear? Confusion? ...Pity? What?

"Come on, get off the floor." I'm dragged by my wrists off the ground and into the living room.  She sits me down and suddenly ties my wrists with the blanket before I can process it fast enough to stop her.

I look at her in wide eyes, the action too familiar to me.  I feel my chest tighten with anxiety.  What does she think she's doing?

"Just so you don't attack me again." She laces the bindings to the arm of the sofa and I yank on them in a craze. "Stop before you hurt yourself.  I'm not going to do anything to you. I just don't want you coming at me with a knife again." She grabs my wrists and I flinch away from her, "Stop. I said I'm not going to hurt you."

I'm not acting like myself.  The infection made me delirious.  Memories flash in my mind, too vivid.  The mixture of flashbacks and the foggy feeling in my head makes it hard for me to tell what's real and what's not.

She paces around the room, her hand shaking as she holds her cell phone. "Are you going to tell me what that was about? Or should I just call the cops?"

"I was going to kill you." I answer bluntly.

"Why?" A look of betrayal comes over her face.

I shrug, trying to focus on her face rather than the flashbacks and fabric tied around my wrists.

"This is why you didn't want to go to the hospital, huh? You're a murderer. Is Frey even your name?"

"Frey was given to me.  I don't remember my real name." I tell her, "now untie me."

"How do you not know your real name?" She c***s her head to the side.

"Just f*****g untie me." I feel like I'm about to go into a panic attack. I can't handle this.  My breathing becomes harsher and my lungs tighten like I'm being choked.  I yank on the bindings in vain as my mind runs in circles.

"No, because you might try to kill me again!" She yells, still pacing but she's watching me more closely now.

"I won't! Please, just untie me, please." I beg, yanking on the bonds again. "You don't know what this is doing to me, please untie me."

"Calm down." She tells me, her jaw tightens.

I keep yanking and twisting, trying to get free. "Please untie me."

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't trust you. Calm down and talk to me."

"F*****g untie me! I can-...I can't take this..." I can't breathe. It's just too much, tears threaten to fall from my eyes. "Please, I'm begging you.  I can't do this again. Please untie me."  How did I suddenly become so weak due to some f*****g woman tying my wrists together?  I'm almost angry at myself.  My mind is more overrun with fear and memories, mixed with the laughter of the voices.

She frowns, leaning in and rubbing my back. It only causes me to flinch away from her and a look of understanding comes over her face. "I'm sorry." She says, "I don't want to do this. I'm sorry, I just don't want you to hurt me.  I won't hurt you. This is for my safety, I'm not going to hurt you.  If you just talk to me, I won't call the police."

Really? She isn't going to call the cops?  Damn, this girl's dumb.

"Please just untie me, I'll do anything. I won't hurt you. I promise."

"You promise?" She eyes me, chewing on her lip.

I nod quickly and she unties my wrists.  I hold them close to my body.  I rubbed them raw from yanking so hard.  I try to catch my breath and shake away the bad memories.

"I'm sorry..." She whispers, her eyes cast down. "I saw your scars. I know something bad must have happened to you... I shouldn't have done this to you. You really scared me when you came at me like that, it was the only thing I could think to do. I'm sorry." She looks back up at me in regret.

I just try to get my breathing under control, wishing she'd shut her f*****g mouth for a change.

"Is that why you do what you do?  Paranoia? Think someone's going to hurt you so you kill them?" She questions.

"I'm not a b***h or a victim.  I do it because I want to, not because I get bad memories or some s**t.  You just tied me up, I haven't been tied like that in a while... It brought back some unpleasant s**t I'd rather not think about." I mumble.

She looks like she doesn't know what to say. "I know..." She whispers finally, "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to tie you up."  She holds this confused, innocent look on her face. She looks frightened and concerned at the same time, not sure if she should run or come closer.  She looks like a deer in the headlights.

Why haven't I killed her by now?
It's not just because of my leg.  I've killed people in worse shape before.

"Are you going to talk to me about what you just tried to do?" She pressures, breaking the silence that stood for a few minutes.

"I wanted to kill you. I tried. I failed. Now we're here."

"Why did you try to kill me though?"

"You ask too many questions.  Why did you try to kill me?" I smirk at her, my words having an underlining meaning she catches onto quickly.

"You were coming at me with a knife. I reacted in self defense." She says, her jaw stiff.

"Yeah, but most people I've killed never reacted that quick and was able to have me on the ground with a knife to my throat that fast."

She glares, shifting in her seat. "You're hurt. It wasn't that hard to target your leg..."

"Yeah, that was pretty dirty, but don't play dumb."

She sighs, "I admit it, okay!" She snaps, "I... Do what you do. But I don't just randomly attack people!" She looks down, rubbing her temples. "If I tell you why I do it, would you tell me?"

Stupid, immature question.

"I might..." If I decide not to kill her before then...

Author's Note

This chapter contains mentions of murder, attempted murder, mentions of drugs, plenty of cursing, and some sensitive subjects.

A/N: Well, now they know they're both killers. Will they be able to bond on this? Or will they end up killing each other! Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnn!

Reviews

[WanderingDavid]

This is the first of your chapters I've read, so maybe that's my problem. Anyway, this was too strange for me to understand or appreciate. Why had Kacia brought home so many people in the previous weeks? Bizarre. How did Rema know how to "clean out" Frey's wounds -- is he a doctor? And, why did the fight between Rema and Frey happen the next day instead of the previous evening? And, why does the fight drag on and on without resolution? So many questions and so strange. Sorry if I sound negative, but maybe I should have started at the beginning.

[Sinbulvinter]

It's fine. Yes, this is the 5th chapter and would make more sense if you read the chapters before and after.
To answer your questions,
Kacia has a drug issue and parties a lot, which leads her to sleep around.
Rema is not a doctor, but she knew some basic first aid, and it isn't really all too difficult to do. Also, she did it herself because Frey refused to allow her to take him to a hospital.
The fight happened the next day because Frey has injuries and insomnia, and crashed for a while.
The fight wasn't meant to really have a resolution, neither of them decided to kill/seriously harm each other. Rema is a good hearted person, despite being a murderer herself (she only really does it because of ptsd), and she didn't want to kill him. Frey didn't kill her because he feels he owes her for helping him. The two also have a kind of bond they don't understand right now.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good tale shared. I hope to read more. Please send read requests. I liked the conversation and the honest tone in the story. No regret. Just accepting what they are. Thank you for sharing the amazing tale.
Coyote

[Sinbulvinter]

Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did and you are welcome.