She was the one.
I needed her. She was the one. Her eyes would see my face smiling down at her the last seconds before she died.
I liked the idea. It made my side purr.
To think of her blood at my feet.
Oh, God, yes.
A bloody corpse was always a good way to end a stressful week. When you have time to clean up the mess before going home. Where no one stayed at school longer than necessary on Friday.
There was that window of opportunity to drag her into an empty classroom and carve those deep gouges through that flawless skin. Stain my hands red.
Always on Friday.
Too bad it was only lunch.
People hustled and bustled by to get to their respective friends. I sat there, fingers folded, waiting for the end of the day to come.
"You're always so happy on Fridays," Andrew commented.
"How are you not? You get to do whatever you please," I pointed out.
"Yeah but it's kinda to the next level with you. I don't know what you think about all the time but it seems your own little world of god knows what makes you pretty damn happy."
"Does it bother you?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking my eyes off of her.
"No but it makes me wonder what it is that goes on in there."
"Hm. Maybe I'm a serial killer thinking about my next victim," I sighed, adding on a hint of sarcasm.
He laughed. They always did. Never truly suspected that I was telling the truth.
Natalie sat down at the table then and I took a second to look at her. I liked her.
Not in the creepy, 'I wanna kill you' kind of way. More like the 'I want to be with you forever and ever' kind of way.
Serial killers have feelings too, you know.
Plus they had friends. Contrary to popular belief, we don't always live out in the secluded, creepy shack in the woods. I happily lived in the city with my parents. No one ever bothered us really. Neither of them had jobs but they went to these neighborhood gatherings and stuff. It was a weird mix. There were those parts of my house I couldn't go in... cause they did business there and they didn't want me to be involved in their business.
I made my own instead. If I didn't, I hurt. Couldn't think straight, got fevers and night sweats. In general it wasn't fun. So I took care of myself. Survival of the fittest.
My parents knew. They looked down on me for it, but I couldn't satisfy them without hurting myself. They must've understood that cause they didn't try to stop me.
They were such great parents.
"Zeke," Andrew said.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Do you happen to be free next weekend?"
"Well, maybe you would want to go to a concert in Virginia with me. We'd have to stay overnight, though."
"I'll see what I can do," I told him.
Natalie sighed, now, looking over some papers with a lot of red ink on them. "He wants me to stay after school to see him."
"That sucks," Andrew commented, the attention shifted away from me again.
Ugh. Social dynamics were such a pain.
"But does that mean today?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably.
I didn't like seeing her stressed out.
"I'll stay after today," I told her. "And I can give you a ride."
"You'd do that for me?"
I shrugged. "It's not a big deal."
Yes. Cause killing someone and then giving the person I cared about a ride home was a great idea.
Lunch soon ended and I had to drag myself through the rest of my day.
When the last bell rang I hustled to my locker and shoved my books in there, slid the bracelet off my wrist and put it under a rock outside. Where the sensors within the school couldn't find it. It would look like I left.
Then I slid back inside, pulling a sweatshirt on to hide my bare wrist. I roamed a couple halls and found her talking to someone at her locker. Leaning against the far wall, I waited.
And waited some more. Her friend finally left and I walked forward quietly until I was close enough.
She was on her phone. Distracted. Such an easy target. My hand flexed a half second before I wrapped an arm around her and covered her mouth. Her phone fell to the floor and I yanked her back, despite her struggles. I pushed open a door to one of the empty classrooms and shoved her inside.
She ran into one of the empty desks and whirled to face me.
"Hi," I said.I slid my hand into a pocket and pulled out a switch blade.
"Jesus, mother fucking-" I sank the blade hilt deep into her stomach, feeling the blood pool around it.
She stared me in the face, terrified, knowing all too well it was the end. When I let go of her, she fell to the floor, dying. Blood still leaked out of the wound at an alarming rate.
Well... an enjoyable rate to me. An alarming rate to you normal folk.
I got down on her level, careful not to kneel in the bright red liquid. I felt her flesh with the tip of the knife. Drew it up along her arm, past her shoulder to her neck.
I admire my parents for this. They're skills are far beyond mine at understanding where people bleed, where they don't; where they feel pain and where they're numb.
The knife slid in soundlessly, and I drew it along a fresh line but the bleeding was minimal, her heart had stopped pumping long enough ago there was no movement.
How did people despise this so? It was simple. She was prey and I was a predator. No different than consumers and businessmen.
The door opened behind me as I stood, my arms and the lower parts of my sweatshirt sleeves soaked through with her blood.
Blood... I like blood.
I whirled, turning to face this person.
"Shh-" I started but my breath couldn't finish it until I sucked in a new one.