Psychotic

Chapter 8

"My.....m-my father?" was all that I could choke out at first. He.....he knew? David knew what happened to my father? "......H-how?" I asked Max. 

"I don't know, Alice. He seemed very focused on keeping you alive, that's for sure. Why don't you ask him?" Yeah, why don't you ask him?  Oh, shut up. You're the one who tried to convince me to stay. Make up your mind. You mean make up YOUR mind. Oh, just stop. But......what? What happened? 

"Take me to David." I nearly commanded. 

"Nice change of heart. Now come on!" He yelled, as he started running down the hallway. I followed him, of course. It took me a bit to catch up since I was in a bad physical condition from the asylum. It seemed like I was on the right track, though, since I reached Max, standing next to a closed door. "Right in here." he mouthed, then left. I was all on my own, except for him on the other side of this door. Just this door. All that separates me from someone who might know the truth is one thin, wooden door. At least, I think it's thin and wooden. Who knows? I took a deep breath, and put my hand on the knob, slowly and quietly opening the door. I inhaled sharply as I saw which room it was. I recognized it as one of the few in this place that I knew. Stone walls........faint bloody writing on them.........and an old, wooden chair in the middle of the room. Nothing changed at all, except for one thing: There was someone other than me on the chair. A dark figure I knew well: David.

He was sitting on the chair, his back facing me. As I looked around the room a little longer, the memories started flooding in. A dark room, David letting his insanity out, and me, a smile freshly cut into my face, still bleeding. They were scars now, not bleeding anymore, unlike his. David's scars look bloody every day, all the time. As if they were always fresh. It was pretty unnerving. "Hello, Alice." A voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I almost didn't recognize it, it was so monotonous. It didn't have that strange.......edge to it. 

"Hello." I replied. 

"Reminiscing, are we?" he asked, a smile in his voice. 

"I could ask you the same thing." I answered again. It didn't really look normal to me that he was sitting so calmly. 

"No. Just taking some time off." The smile disappeared. 

"From what? Found another girl to stalk and threaten?" I sneered. 

"Nope. It's a boy." he stated. 

"Little gender swap for a change? Why do you do it, any way?" He pushed himself off of the chair. I wonder how much weight it can actually resist. 

"It's a little habit. A hobby, if you will. Some people do crafts, others read--" 

"--and some take a six-year-old with them to stalk people. Just normal stuff, really." David turned around, not showing his face. 

"You'd have to know it, Alice. Don't you feel it sometimes? That strong urge to just...to just kill someone? To see their blood on a blade?" 

"No! I'm not insane!" 

"Correction: I saved you from a bombing in an asylum. It didn't really seem like you were just there to look around and buy souvenirs." Touché. Fuck off, mate. 

"But....I don't just.....get the urge to kill people! I'm not as insane as you are!" 

"I could be worse." He said darkly. "Insanity doesn't always help, I'll give you that. It has certain..........side effects. While it clears things up, the reality of some things can consume you. It slowly eats away at what you still have of yourself." He lifted his face up, and I saw.......red eyes........bags under them......he didn't....he didn't look like this at breakfast. He grinned again, his scars bleeding a little bit. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about, was it?"

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you're enjoying the book so far! I actually have a question for all of you: Should I continue to write this? Or should I abandon this story? Let me know in the comments.