Hunting You, Hunting Me (Watty Awards 2012)

Chapter 28

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Not edited.

Chapter 28

I wish it were over, but its not. I have killed so many people in the short span of only a few days. I cannot believe it myself. It is like a dream, a really bad dream. I do the math- almost a person a day…Billy, Blondie, the other two, and Abby. Five people and I’ve been here about…five days? Wow. How did I become so angry…so jaded and bitter in such a short time? I am not a killer by nature, and I am not this person that I have been forced to become. I’m going to need years of therapy once I get out of here.

I take a few steps back to distance myself from the contents of my stomach that are lying in a puddle on the ground amidst some bushes. Sorry plants. It’s a good thing you don’t have noses.  Breathing deeply to steady the spinning sensation in my head and buzzing in my ears, I wait patiently.  Finally, the sound of leaves rustling in the light summer breeze fills my ears. I walk towards the puddle and throw dirt over my vomit before walking around to the back of the shack.

Eager to cleanse myself, I undress quickly and sigh when the cold water makes contact with my skin. Taking my time and enjoying every second of it, I wash my hair and scrub my body down with my nails.  Gargling helps to remove the unsavoury taste of bile from my mouth and I even rub my finger over my teeth diligently.  This is the cleanest I am going to get, especially without soap and toothpaste.  Realizing belatedly that I do not have a towel, I stand in the sunlight and allow the air to dry my body.

The entire ritual causes me to relax completely, so much so that I make the mistake of walking back into the shack. The pungent smell of blood greets my nose causing me to run back out into the open.  I breathe deeply and fast, praying that the fresh air will replace the stench that is once again embedded in every cell of my body along with the memory of killing my best friend.

‘Jane, we have to change our plan. The shack reeks of blood. The Andersons will be able to smell it.’  I inform Jane nervously.

‘They must not find out that Abby is dead. Is there any way you can dispose off her body in the forest and clean it up with bleach or something?’  She suggests.

‘Yeah…I’ll just head down to the grocery store to buy some bleach, shall I? Do you need anything? Tampons maybe?’  I reply sarcastically.

Jane doesn’t reply with one of her trademark smart-ass retorts. In fact, she remains silent for some time. Getting worried and a little restless, I pester her again.

‘Jane?’  I shout.

No reply. She can’t be mad at me for that comment...

‘Jane? You are worrying me. Are you okay?’

No reply.

‘Jane! Just answer me!’  I yell.

‘Bloody hell!’  Comes her panting voice.

‘What’s wrong?’  I ask urgently. A million scenarios pass through my mind.

‘A wolf has me cornered. Not the Andersons but… someone else. And he is an Alpha.’  She replies.

‘Can you not kill him?’  I ask, immediately becoming appalled with myself at how easily that came to my lips. I bite my tongue as a punishment.

‘That is the last resort, Estela. Killing is the last resort. Always.’ She replies.

‘You’re probably not in much danger seeing that you are able to talk to me.’  I observe.