Feeding Time

Chapter Three

"We're here", Noah announces the next day, pulling up into a driveway at the end of a quiet street. "Our new home."
"Where are we going to hide the bodies?", Morona asks, peering out the window. "That's our top priority."
"Our top priority is not being found", he replies. "This is one of the smallest towns in Texas, Morona."
She huffs. "Fine. I guess we can figure that out later."
"You mean tomorrow?", I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt. "We need to feed here too."
"Nah. It's time you learned to ignore the urge", my friend says. "We'll start out slow."
I gape at her for a moment while Noah and Gemma get out of the car, narrowing my eyes.
"How am I supposed to ignore it?"
"Well, I'm going to lock you in your new room with nothing that could possibly hurt you when the urge strikes. Duh."
"I thought I was supposed to be a killer", I say, getting out of the car, walking around the vehicle to join the woman by her door. "Now you don't want me to be one? Make up your mind."
"Uncertain, I don't really care", Morona says, opening the thermos and taking a swig. "I'm just trying to help you."
"Incoming", Gemma says quietly, suddenly appearing beside me. "People. Put the red water away."
Morona bares her teeth in annoyance, but does as she's told, reluctantly walking over to where Noah is standing by the trunk of the car, talking to a young couple as he takes out the bags of spare clothes, swinging them over one shoulder.
After a moment, I sigh and follow, my fingers twitching as I awkwardly stand beside the young man as he speaks pleasantly to them.
"And who's this?", the man asks, gesturing to me s I duck behind Noah. "Your girlfriend?"
"Actually, that's me", Gemma says with a smile. "These are my best friends...Mia and Theresa."
"Nice to meet you", Morona says, holding out her hand. "I'm sure we'll be good friends."
"Of course", the woman replies, shaking it. "I'm Kayla, and this is my fiancé, John."
I shake their hands, not speaking as I smile.
"It's good to meet you", John tells me. I nod my head, flicking my gaze to Noah, who blinks and clears his throat.
"She doesn't talk", he lies. "Her vocal cords don't work. Sorry, I should have explained that in the beginning."
"I'm so sorry", Kayla gushes with pity. "It must be so hard for her to communicate."
I let out a sigh and grab one of the bags from Noah's hand, lugging it up to the front door and inside the two story house. I drop the duffel bag on the wooden floor and walk upstairs to explore, opening every door to find a bathroom, a master bedroom, office type space, and a smaller bedroom.
"Theresa! Where are you! They're gone!", Morona's voice yells from downstairs.
"I'm coming!", I call, running down the short hallway and down the steps to meet my friend in the living room, sliding to a stop in front of her.
"Do you need something?", I ask, sitting down on the leather sofa.
"How strong is it?", is what she replies with, digging through one of the backpacks. "The urge."
"Not very", I say slowly, raising my eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because we decided not to lock you in a room for twenty four hours", Noah sighs, joining me. "As Morona has decided that doing that will accomplish nothing. We're going back to the original method instead."
"No. You are not strapping me into a straitjacket for an entire day", I snap. "I thought I was supposed to embrace this, not try to change it."
"And you didn't want to become a serial killer", Morona reminds me. "It's been six months; what's changed?"
"I like killing", I say defensively. "It gives me a purpose besides sitting in an insane asylum."
"This is our point", Morona replies. "I thought helping you kill would help, but it hasn't. You're getting stronger, and so is the urge. It worries us."
I stay silent for a moment, then look her in the eye. "I should have killed you when it told me to", I say angrily. "It would have solved everything."
She stares back evenly.
"I dare you to try."