A Killer's Anatomy

Chapter 1

Michael's sleeping body laid in the corner of the attic. A darkened wooden square room that was decorated with the crimson splattered on the ground. Beautifully spiralling to one spot where some broken and rusted chains laid. He had fallen asleep in the corner after having- fun the night before with his unlawfully taken prisoner. He was facing the opposite direction from her, but an axe glistened in the small ceiling light that dangled ever so casually above the crimes he had committed. Crimson smeared the blade, spilling onto his once neat and white dress shirt. With now torn and stained red suspenders. His curly dirty blonde hair brushed against the cold wood floor. Asleep.

Charlotte was taken.Her body was beaten with a blunt end of an axe, cut a few times even. This man murdered.. he murdered a woman, Elizabeth was her name. She heard her scream it last night... Elizabeth's body now laid in a fetal position. Her body had stopped bleeding around 3 a.m last night. Hot tears refused to spill down her cheeks any longer. Like she had run out completely from the sorrow that burned in her chest. Her throat was sore from the screams and cries she let out till a sock gag was placed in her mouth to keep her silent. Charlotte's twinkling yet lifeless eyes landed on him, he looked peaceful. Too peaceful... It was horrible Almost like it was unlawful

" ...Ugh... " He grunted slightly. The smell of the corpse of Elizabeth was getting to him. Michael slowly started to sit up. The muscles in his back roughly getting to work as he hoisted himself up off his side. He ran his bloody hand through his hair, almost immediately jumping at the sight of his hand. His eyes flickered to about only 5 or 6 feet away from him directly at Charlotte. His brilliant hazel eyes sparkling, but not with anything good or evil. Rather, confusion and fear. Lots of fear. His hand brushed the floor, only for his hand to brush the cool metal of the new crimson axe blade. He shuddered at its stains. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, he just. Trembled.

The chains dug into her wrists as she tried to back farther and farther away. This man was crazy, she saw the look in his eyes last night yet... they looked different. Almost scared... No! Charlotte you can't take sympathy. He killed that woman! As if it was magic, tears spilt out of her eyes. As his hand brushed against the blade, she feared she was next to meet its business end.

Her bruised body began to ache, her cuts becoming fleshy messes as the blood dried. She tried to scream again, even with her aching throat. But was muffled by the dirty sock stuffed in her throat. He stared at her for a moment before finally being able to find the right words. Trying to arrange it properly in his brain. An eastern accent spoke in a naturally warm, but fearful tone. He was an English man but didn't look like it. Not like this. He looked like he was a bloodthirsty killer that belongs in The Shining. The words seemed almost like a light in the dark.

" ...I didn't- I didn't mean to- "

She shook her head rapidly, closing her eyes tight till wrinkles appeared. It looked like she was even refusing to listen. As she shook so did the chains. Slowly she opened her eyes, her breath hitching as even the sock choked back sobs. Charlotte didn't believe a word... she couldn't trust him. He got closer to her, putting a hand up as if he was cautious of a wild animal. He made his way to her, shaking. The flashes of memories were fast and furious. Making him stumble slightly from his own confusion. " I'm not going to do anything... let me take that out of your mouth... " He motioned to the sock.

She nodded slowly, she would scream... she would scream and someone would hear her and rescue her. He would go to jail and she would... it would be okay. Again, she nodded and inched forward. Wanting to get this over with. Scream, find, be safe. That kept running through her mind faster than she could even comprehend.

He reached towards it, but before taking it out he read her expression. He knew. " Now... if you scream... all it will do is give me a headache and then I'll just feel worse... trust me... I've screamed... " He said, knowing that this must've been what she was thinking. So obvious, strumming up how many time someone had the same idea. He pulled the sock out of her mouth, his hand trembled. " No. " Her French accent was thick. She began to kick and yell vulgar language at him, her legs were weak so that wasn't much help at all She was exhausted but terrified. " Get away from me fucker! Go! " She screamed in his face. Trying to bite or kick him, reaching out and tugging at the chains. It was like taking that measly sock out of her mouth was a weird trigger but of course, she kept trying to swing.

He quickly backed away, dropping the sock. He stumbled a bit from her kicking his legs. He stared at her with a horrified, yet shocked look. " Where exactly am I supposed to go? It's my bloody house! " He protested. He didn't like being yelled at, none the less any screaming and foul language. Something that made him uncomfortable. " Get away! Let me go bastard! Murderer!! " She screamed, tugging at the chains till she felt like she couldn't move anymore. She went limp. The only thing that was even visible or audible was her soft yet hitched breathing as she tried to stay calm. If you couldn't tell, she was failing miserably. Her head fell down, looking at the bloody wooden floor beneath her. All her throat could manage were simple words. " Why... "

Murderer. That hurt. That hurt a lot. He watched her give out and give up. The restraints he had placed on her made sure to keep her bound. He refused to be called a murderer. But he knew it was true.... as much as he hated it. " I...I don't know... I don't remember... " There was a brief silence. " Bull " She whispered. " You don't remember killing Elizabeth... Her name was Elizabeth. You don't remember callling her a whore... cutting her up. You sick bastard... " She looked up at him. " You killed her... "