stripper killer [matty healy]

twenty five - admit

admit:(verb) confess to a crime or fault, or one's responsibility for it.

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matty

i run across the road, my house in clear sight. my side was in agony and i'm pretty sure i was bleeding but i refuse to slow down. i had to get there. i had to stop her.

almost 10 minutes after she'd left, i left too. i'd ripped my tubes out and ran from the hospital. how i managed to do it i have no idea. i know i have a sneaky trade or two but i'd even surprised myself.

i had made the biggest mistake of my life handing her that letter (and that's saying something, i've made some pretty big ones) it's not her business, any of it. it wasn't fair to treat her the way i did and bring her into this. i was about to ruin her life, and mine.

see, i had everything under control at the hospital. i knew that body would be rotting at home... but, nobody ever visits me, so i knew it wouldn't be found. only then, the police decide they want to do a quick check around the property for anything that was relevant to the case. yet, that made no sense. i felt they were onto me. so thinking i couldn't leave the hospital without raising more suspicion i write a letter to india explain how to dispose of her correctly and gave it too her.

it only dawned on me minutes afterwards that's she's a normal human being with normal feelings. what she could see would ruin her life, change her forever. she had no idea about me, or what i do. she wouldn't have a clue how to handle it. it would completely scar her... i didn't want to be responsible for that. i would of been better off killing her the first time we met.

i know i fucked up. i do with a lot of things. it's second nature too me. i just hope i could get their quick enough to try and save it all, even if i destroy myself in the process.

i storm up the stairs in my building, tripping every couple of steps due to my rushing speed. my eyes were watering from the pain in my side and the fact my hair kept falling into them but i could see my door now, there was no stopping me.

"india?!" i call frantically as i rush through it. shit. my eyes fall upon the letter i'd wrote, lay helplessly on the floor next to the bedroom door. my heart drops and i'm pretty sure every inch of colour drained out of my face in that very moment.

it was open.

i creepy slowly towards the door, the smell already right under my nose. "india?" i whisper. there's no response. "india?" i try again, but before i have to wait for a reply i see her stood in the corner of the room.

her face was whiter than the crisp new snow outside. she looked drained - like the life had been sucked out of her. she was completely rigid... stiff like stone. i don't even think she had even noticed my presence. she was just staring at the massacre that was lay before her, with absolutely no expression on her face.

i didn't even realise i was sweating until a felt a drop run on to my top lip. i decided not to wipe it. i was scared to move. scared to speak.. fuck, i was scared to breathe. this is the first time in my life that i'd felt such raw emotion and it was all because of some stripper. you have to kill her my subconscious screams. she's seen too much!

i slowly take a step forward and take a knife from the bed, watching her intently. her eyes don't move from the corpse. her face doesn't change. heck, she doesn't even blink. all i could feel was my heart pounding against my rib cage as i step around the bed closer to her. she must realise what i'm doing, yet she's not doing anything. does she not care that i'm approaching her, knife in hand?

"don't kill me." she finally croaks as i lift it up, ready to attack.

thank god.

because i don't think i could have done it anyway.

"i'm not going to tell." her voice is coarse and barely audible, like she had lost it from screaming. she looks up from the bed so our eyes meet - they were watering, yet not a single tear had fallen.

i opened my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. i didn't know what to say. "oh, so you just found a cut up corpse on my bed, but your not gonna tell, so that's cool, you hungry?" no. i don't think so.

her arm lifts up slowly and she places her palm across the top of the silverwear in my hand and pushes in towards the ground, disarming me. i don't fight it, i let my hand fall to my side. her eyes flick to mine again before reverting to the floor.

i watch her in silence as she walks past me through the door into the living room, before setting herself down of the sofa. she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, then plays will the hem of sleeve awkwardly.

"why haven't you tried to run..." i ask with a deep frown on my face. it made no sense to me. "or even scream?" i move over and sit on the sofa directly opposite her to which she cowers away slightly. understandable.

"what good would running do?" she half laughs. "you'd just chase and kill me." she lifts her head to look at me. her face had changed now. her eyes were dark and no longer glossy. she didn't look frightened. "besides, i did scream. repeatedly. but i doubt anyone heard me in this place.. it's probably a sound their used too. am i right?"

i screw my face up at her sarcastic tone and words, unsure how to deal with her reaction to all of this. "this is the first time i've done anything like tha-"

"oh, cut the crap matthew." she hisses at me. "those cuts..." she points to the bedroom and then swallows hard, like the image of what's in there is making it difficult to speak. "those cuts are professionally done."

i sigh and droop my head. "my father used to be a butcher."

she shakes her head at me in disgust. "how much more are you going to keep this up?!" her voice begins to raise. "you've got the remains of a dead woman in there, there's no point lying now! what kind of sick fuck are you?! admit to what you've done! admit to what you are!" by this point she's stood over me, screaming into my face.

"fine!" i scream back, standing up and pushing her hard back onto the sofa with force - all the sympathy i had for her evaporating into nothing. "i'm a fucking serial killer!" I sing, a smile across my face. "i kill strippers and i fucking love it!"

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{authors note}

so... india took that... well? haha! sorry to keep you guys in the dark, updated as soon as I could! also, just letting you know. this story will finish at around 30 to 35 chapters! they're isn't much left now at all! we're almost there!

ps: go check out my new fic idea.. "inked" thank you! x