The serial killer's weakness

Eighteen

The alley wasn't close enough.

It felt like it would take us hours to reach the small entrance that led into that familiar archive of darkness sandwiched between a bakery and a bottle store. The boy-Bane...Barry... Bob, no B..B..Bl..Blaire. That was it. Blaire was a walking migraine. I hated him. I loathed him. I wanted to slaughter him.

"You know I had to take the test four times before I could even walk in the academy's door, the other guys were much bigger than me and for some reason they bore a real grudge against me..." Blah. Blah. Blah.  Police this, dad that, he never shut up.

My fingers curled tightly around my knife, I could see Blaire's neck snapping in my mind and it felt good. I could feel My knife plunging into his stomach, splattering red blood on the pale concrete. What an improvement that would be. But instead, I just replied as if my jaw was wired shut.

"Tough luck."

After walking for what seemed like miles we finally arrived in front of Ol' Reliable. Stopping in front of the alleyway I could practically see the pensiveness digging away at his mind. His hands began to fidget and he transferred his weight from one foot to the other. This was a boy who didn't know how to protect himself and he knew it. "Hey Blaire.." A shiver racked his body, goosebumps enveloping his skin like little pinpricks. "Y-yeah?" I smirked, watching as Ximena waltz around him like a lioness to a meal. "Why is it you don't have a gun?" His nostrils flared and he began stuttering out a bunch of nonsense I couldn't comprehend before haphazardly backing away. unfortunately for him, he ran bang into Xim, losing his balance and tumbling to the asphalt, a steady stream of blood flowing from a split the size of the Grand Canyon in his lip.

Men always had this strange way of showing fear, it puzzled me. Women were simple-they screamed, they slapped and they clawed. Men, however, were unpredictable. Sometimes they'd throw a punch, sometimes they'd bolt and sometimes they'd lose their fucking mind. Blair belonged in the third category. He got up, a thick layer of tears coating his wide brown eyes, he thrashed around, spreading his arms out in an attempt to create a barrier between him and us. However, idiotically he had pushed himself further back into the alley, his arms now by his side, his figure bent over heaving and huffing. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I kind of didn't want to kill him, his fear was just too entertaining.

However, I came here with a goal and I was going to complete that goal. "You know Blair I think I much prefer your screams to your constant bullshit ramblings," He was on his knees now, pathetically snivelling like a child that had just scraped its shin. "W-why w-what did I ev-v-ver do to yo-o-u?" I was about to make the first blow when Ximena grabbed my arm. Angry she had interrupted me, I turned my gaze on her making sure I didn't mask any of my rage. "What?" I gritted out, glancing at my victim out of the corner of my eye.

"I don't feel right about this," I felt my eyes narrow as my patience began to wane. "It's like killing a child," She glanced at his face, big ugly bubbles of tears rolling down his red splotched cheeks, arms wrapped around himself like a shield and a panicked voice calling for his parents. "Pathetic," I spat, turning on him, only to be pulled back by Ximena again. 

"Just, please be gentle, his aura is fragile and infantile" Her eyes never wavered from him and a drill of rage suddenly shot through my stomach. "Sure," Reluctantly, she released her grip, knowing there was nothing else she could do. The boy, Blair, looked up at me, eyebrows drone together, pleading...begging. At this point, I was ready to carve him up.

"Ximena talk to me," She continued walking, arms crossed and a scowl set on her face. I don't think she had appreciated me skinning him alive after saying I'd be gentle. "We had to send them a message," Without warning, she stopped and swivelled on her heel before jamming a finger at my chest. "Than why didn't you use that old geezer?!" Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to gather my thoughts. "How do you propose we would have gotten him out of that office?" She clicked her tongue before taking off. "For fuck's sake," Grabbing onto her arm I pulled her into me before awkwardly enveloping her in a hug. 

She pushed and pulled but I held fast, arms remaining casually wrapped around her shaking figure, it dawned on me that she was crying. "You idiot," She pressed her palm against my chest and gave another feeble push before collapsing into me in hysterics. "I'm sorry," I mumbled into her hair, running my index finger along her spine. "It had to be done," Her shoulders began to shake even more as she clasped desperately onto my shirt. "I know." Looking up at me, I was surprised to not see that regular storm that was always behind her eyes, brewing and waiting to be release. They were completely blank like when I had first met her and I was unable to read the emotions she kept locked away. I was afraid, I don't know why and for some reson I didn't care. It was nice, this strange feeling so unlike rage. It was thrilling yet calming, emotions that had started only feeling around Ximena. I hadn't been this confused since I was a child waiting in my room for my mother to come back but being met by my father and a bottle of beer.

Yet, unlike that memory, I wasn't afraid of this feeling of being afraid, I welcomed it. This small lapse in control, I lavished it. Without another second of hesitation, I leant down and enveloped xim's lips with my own hoping to pass this exhilerating feeling onto her. I'm not sure if it reached her but I am sure that she was experiencing her own strange feeling as she gripped onto me for dear life.

Sorry, I joined Twenty One Pilots on their hiatus.