Psycho

Unit 30

have fun

Disclaimer: This story contains violence, gore, sexual content and strong language. Subjects covered might trigger some. If you are very sensible or easily offended, please abstain from reading.

Sleep had a hard time coming down on Phil. His mind was tormented with the thoughts that had permanently scarred him, and they consumed every minute of his day. Lying in his bed, quiet but awake, he had heard his friend come back home late, like always, but had acted as if he hadn't, for the simple reason that if he acknowledged him, he knew he would break down. He kept hearing mumbles coming from his room, so he had to block his ears with his pillow.

After only three and half well needed hours of sleep, Phil had awoken from horrible nightmares. They had felt so real that he was still shaking 10 minutes later. He stayed in bed. He still felt sleepy and weak, but it was also to ignore Dan in the room next door as much as possible.

After two hours of light drowsing, Phil heard noises coming from the other side of the wall. Dan's bedroom door creaked open and footsteps resounded in the hallway. A few seconds later, Phil heard the fainted noise of the shower. He jumped out of bed and pushed Dan's door opened.

He crouched on the bed's side and lifted the sheets. He snatched the recording device he had put the day before and turned it off. He sighed deeply. He was glad to see it was still there. Adrenaline had rushed through his veins and he suddenly felt very awake.

Phil was about to leave the room but he stopped in the doorframe. He turned around slowly and looked on the piano's chair. There it was. Dan's backpack. He felt his heart skip a beat.

He could still hear the water hitting the ground in the distance. It was his chance. It was probably his only chance.

Phil stood in the frame for a few seconds, frozen and unsure of what to do. This seemed too good to be real. Dan had left his backpack unattended.

His heartrate increasing, he carefully walked towards it. He unzipped it so slowly, scared that something would blow up if he rushed it. When it hit the end, Phil stopped breathing. He pulled the two sides apart and looked inside. There were only three things that Phil couldn't quite figure out from up there.

He put his hand in gingerly, still scared he might come out without a finger, and pulled a pair of gloves. It was his bike gloves Dan had asked for a month ago.

"What... That's where you are..?" He whispered to himself.

He put them aside and shoved his hand back in. He grabbed something circular and hard. He hissed and recoiled his hand when the object cut his finger with a sharp end. He licked the small string of blood before putting his hand back in and retrieving the object.

Squinting and frowning, Phil analysed it. It was glass, definitely, but he didn't know what it was exactly. It looked like the bottom of a pint, perhaps.

Confused, he put it aside and reached for the last object. It was a red thick rectangle with metal sides. A weird sensation overtook Phil's chest when he realized what it was. Slightly reluctantly, he flicked his wrist and a blade emerged from the red triangle. Phil had to cover his mouth to stop himself from yelling. He noticed a dried, wiped up red stain at the bottom of the blade and his whole body went numb.

He threw the gloves, the glass object and the knife in the bag, zipped it back, made sure it looked the same as when he had first come in, grabbed the recording device he had left on the bed and ran back to his own room after slamming the door behind him.