Cold Blood

❥ Chapter Seventeen ❥

Written by Deadlydisasters

Ash pov:

The sky is spotted with white fluffy clouds, off in the distance I can see darker clouds. Everett said that there will be a thunderstorm. He was so concerned when I told him I wanted to go kill someone by myself. I have to, I need to feel that high. That feeling of control after feeling powerless a few days ago.

I took the impala and drove, no location in mind. I pull over next to some woods, the same woods that I left. Everett had saved me from more torture and yet I can't escape the mental abuse they left me with. At night when I'm alone in my room I feel like I'm in that dark closet again. Trying my best to be silent, I shake in fear that at any moment that door can open and they will beat me again. I can hear their footsteps outside the door just waiting for me to slip up, I feel the phantom hunger pains in my stomach from when they used to starve me. I feel spots everywhere on my body throb in pain from past abuse. I shake under the covers until morning when the sun shines through the window, chasing away the memories.

Everett can't know, he already knows about the nightmares. He can't know I imagine them too. I walk down to the house, knife hidden in the waistband of my jeans. The handle hidden beneath my shirt and jacket. The house looks the same as it did when I left with Everett, with a few additions. Bright yellow police tape surrounding the yard, white plaster outlines of their bodies, the tape normally used would peel away in the weather.

I walk past it and hear a high pitch voice call out to me.

"Ash? Ash is that you?" I look toward the voice and find my elderly neighbor, Catherine. She saw me from time to time on the rare occasions my parents let me in the yard. I put on a fake smile and walk up to the little fenced in yard.

"Hello, Ms. Catherine."

"You poor boy, it's a terrible thing that your parents were killed. They were such lovely people." She said with sadness and concern dripping from her words.

I mentally cringe, they had everyone else fooled, a perfect house, a perfect marriage, a child, what could possibly be wrong? Nobody ever wondered why I was never outside with the other kids, nobody ever wanted to know know why I was too skinny. Nobody cared but now someone does and that's all I need. I'm pissed, no one truly cared. If they had I would have been rescued sooner, nobody looks closely to examine the snall cracks in an otherwise perfect exterior. They didn't know something was wrong underneath it causing those cracks.

"Yes, quite a tragedy." I tell the women, my smile has faded.

"Where are you staying now? How did you get away from the killer?" She asked, she's jumping back and forth. It's becoming very annoying. I'm becoming angry, she didn't help me. She doesn't deserve my kindness, she never picked up on the terror in my eyes, my sad expression, the fact that I kept to myself when I was younger. She's worthless.

"Oh, you poor child. Where are my manners? Come in and have a snack."

This is my chance to get close and plunge the knife into her. I follow her into the house and to the kitchen. I smile when I see the kitchen, it's 50s style. Everett would love it, it would be perfect, a perfect match for his murder theme. I sat on a stool along the wall, waiting. Ms. Catherine set an odd plate of snacks in front of me. It had sliced pickles like those found on a sandwich, small cheese slices, and crackers.

"How did you escape the murderer? Where are you staying now?" She askes again.

She's facing away from me, preparing a small meal for herself. I get up and walk slowly toward her, lifting my shirt and pulling the knife out. Outside I'm calm and collected but inside my heart is racing, I can feel the blood pumping in my veins, I'm ready to strike. I can feel my anger fueling my actions. I give a genuine smile and push my black hair out of my eyes.

"Ms. Catherine thank you for the concern but..." I trail off, trying to get her to turn around. I can reach out and kill her right now but I want to see the horror in eyes as she sees what I've become. She turns, a large smile decorating her wrinkled face. Her eyes find the knife and her smile disappears, fear dances on her old features.

"The killer has become my friend and now, I'm one too." I can feel myself smirking, I'm holding the knife to her neck.

"Ash, why? You were raised well, how did this happen?" I could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady but she failed. I laughed, of course she only saw what my parents wanted her to.

"You think they were good people? Ha! You have no idea what I went through!" I spat at her. I sank the knife into her, being careful not to leave any evidence. She died without making a sound, blood spilled down over my knife. Ms. Catherine's body fell to the floor, splattering blood all over. As she fell I yanked out my knife, covered in that beautiful deep red.

I feel like they can't get me, I should have done this to them when I was younger. I refuse to be controlled even though they are dead. I'm in charge now, no one can take that away from me. I leave through the back door, holding the door handle with my jacket sleeve. Nobody in this hidden neighborhood is home, they are all at work but just to be safe I walk behind a few houses, then walk back on the path.

The car ride back is silent but I feel the power flowing through my veins. I won't see them tonight, I love this feeling because it scares the visions away. On these nights it's easier to hide my problem from Everett. The knife sits on the floor at the feet of the passenger seat. Blood drips off the blade, I'll have to wipe that up later. I pull up in front of the house and just sit there. I pull out my phone and it blinks with a text message.

Everett: When you come back, can you bring in the bloody knife I stashed in the back?

I laugh, has that blade been in here since his last kill? I reach in the back, feeling around for the blade. It's not on the seats, I reach under the seats and I feel the burn as I drag my fingers across the edge of the blade. I grab it, ignoring the pain in my fingers. The blade is crusted over with dried blood, it's going to be very hard to clean.

In the few windows that I see, none of the lights are on. I unlock the door and step into the house. I hear a soft popping noise from the kitchen, I head there. Everett and his popcorn, I swear. I walk into the kitchen, and walk up right behind Everett. He's waiting excitedly for his popcorn not paying any attention, perfect. He pulls the popcorn out and puts it in a bowl and as he's about to turn aroud I yell, "EVERETT!" He jumps and spills a little popcorn.

"My popcorn! Damn it Ash, not again!" He yells at me as he scrambles to pick up the fallen pieces. I'm laughing so hard a few tears fall, my stomach hurts too. I forget all about the pain in my hand.

"You're bleeding, what happened?" Everett stares at the short cuts going from finger to finger. Slowly still picking up his popcorn.

"I cut my hand on the knife you forgot to bring in and clean a few days ago." I responded.

"Sorry."

I waved my bleeding hand, dismissing his apology. I walk away, heading to the basement to clean the knives. I can feel Everett's gaze on my back but I don't turn. I want to but I don't, I keep going. I have to clean them and keep my mind off my parents, I can't think about them. If I do they'll come and pace outside my door. They'll be biding their time to attack, I can't show Everett how messed up I truly am. I can't, he'll leave me. He may or may not kill me, if he doesn't he'll leave me and I don't want to be left alone. They'll get me, if I'm lost and alone.