Death Is My BFF (Book 1 Original Series)

Chapter 34: Killing Between The Lines

I struggled to keep the phone in my hands at the all too familiar voice. “Don’t touch her,” I managed my hand loose on the phone. “Don’t you put one finger on my mom or I’ll—“

He gasped dramatically. I could visualize him putting a hand to his chest.“Faithy-poo! I would never. I’m just helping out with your chores you can’t do anymore,” he interrupted, sounding like he was moving around dishes. My mouth started to feel dry at the thought of my mother on the kitchen floor, face down in a puddle of her own blood.

“What do you want?” I whispered, getting up from my seat and pacing the floor. “I’ll do anything, just please, don’t hurt my parents.”

“Oh, I don’t want anything from you that I can’t take. I’ll let you down easy, babe. I’m actually in nobody’s house…because you’re dreaming. I know, I know, I’m a complete ass who is just an ‘A plus’ actor when it comes to mimicking people around you, even in your dreams. It comes with the image.”

“W-what?” I stuttered, staring at my closed door. I backed up until I hit the far wall. “A dream? How? I don’t believe you, I want proof.”

A solid knock hit my bedroom door, practically breaking it down. “Open up the door my little cupcake. I made dream-nachos, and they are extra cheesy. Just as good as the real ones, except…spicier,” his deep voice rang, from the opposite side of the door. “We can snuggle and watch a movie if you want since this is your dream, but only if you want to get friendly with some sharp objects. If not, we have to settle on some agreements in this relationship.”

I froze in my spot, letting the phone drop to the floor. “This can’t be happening,” I muttered, my lips shacking. “You’re not real. This can’t be—“

The door slammed open, revealing my worst nightmare.

He wore a pair of black skinny jeans paired with a leather jacket that popped at the collar. Underneath the shirt he wore a V neck black t-shirt, and a visible studded belt.  His wide shoulders barely fit through the door, and he had to duck his shadowed head when entering the room. In one of his dark hands he held a large plate of nachos.

“Shit, this room is tiny even in a dream,” he commented, chewing on a mouthful of food. Had he been in my room before? He kicked the door closed behind him, making sure to lock it. “It’s ok though I forgive you. At least your room isn’t covered with pink throw up like Marcy’s. It’s hard to breath in there it’s so pink.”

His head moved around the room, until finally resting on me.

I shivered, feeling the strength of his gaze and took a careful step back. My eyes drifted to the plastic container on the floor, and I pointed to it. “It’s right there.”

He tilted his head a little at the sound of my voice, leisurely walking to the corner of my room. With his foot, he skillfully flipped the lid off. “Faith, you know this is a dream right? You don’t have to pee your pants,” he drawled, without even glancing at the contents of the container.

“Nobody is wetting their pants,” I defended my fists clenched. “I have the cloak, so just take it and go…just go.”

The man arched his back as if to stretch lazily and then only to sit up straight once again. “Faith, Faith, Faith….Faith-Faith-Faith…. Faith.”

He just kept saying my name in different patterns,  staring down at the container. I knew it was just another way to annoy me until I flipped out.

“Stop it,” I finally said after minutes of him singing my voice, my voice surprisingly level. I was getting tired of him teasing me in his dangerous manner. Whenever I teased him back, I was threatened in some sort of way.