The Serial Killer in My Mind

He Looked Tasty

Coffee...

No.

But coffee...

No.

Technically you agreed.

No one said I had to go. I informed the annoying voice inside my head. Steve really wanted me to get coffee with the newly appointed Detective Rio. Who had no clue what personal space was. Although he was handsome. I'd very much like it if he would leave his hands and mouth to himself.

I wouldn't...

You are disgusting.

Steve just chuckled as I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling fan. Ollie was supposed to be here soon. I just hope Steve minds his business while she is here.

Several hours later my doorbell rings. I peek through the peephole and see a nervous Ollie standing like a kid waiting for candy on Halloween.

I opened the door and instantly she pushed past me with a huff. She started looking through all my things, cursing under her breath every time she put something back.

Bit mental that one.

Not now.

"Ollie? What are you doing?"

She straightened up, looking at me but not actually seeing me. Her eyes were void of expression and her mouth was slack.

"Eh... giro... eff eff.."

What the hell is that?

"Ollie?"

She looked at me and blinked.

"What? Where am I?" Ollie asked confused.

"You messaged me saying you were coming over."

"Oh... yea..." She nodded, slowly scratching the back of her head. We stared at each other for a few minutes.

"Well?"

"I saw the news... The last person Tobias was with was your skank ass. YOU KILLED HIM!" She accused me, shaking her finger at me.

"I-I... I did no such thing." I stammered. Steve chuckled at my incompetence of a lie and I internally kicked myself. Ollie stared at me with eyes that called bullshit. So, I shrugged.

"Really, Stella?"

"What? I didn't... or at least I don't remember doing it." I looked at the ceiling and went tight lipped. She kept staring at me to the point I felt uncomfortable, so sighed.

"I have a serial killer that's renting out part of my head." I said nonchalantly as I shrugged my shoulders. I figured there is no going back now. I will spill my guts to my best friend that currently hates my guts right now.

"Stella, you sound crazy. You know that, right?" she asked me, folding her arms across her chest.

You gonna tell her everything, sport?

Shut up, Steve. Now is not the time for your petty antics.

What's Petty about it?

I groaned out loud, receiving a look of 'what the fuck' from Ollie. I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Were you just talking to said Serial Killer?" She seemed to be playing along with my little charades, that happened to be true... Which, hopefully she'd believe me.

I'll pray for you.

Aren't you supposed to be in hell?

Well, if your head is hell... I guess so.

Asshole.

Back at you, sweetheart.

"Hello? Earth to Stella?!" Ollie was waving her hands in front of my face. So I swatted at her. She half smiled, that was nice to see. She hadn't cracked a smile since the last time I saw her. Wait, that asshole...

You're welcome.

Bite me!

No thanks... I've seen where your body has been.

I'm about to lose my damn mind. Then Ollie slaps me across the face.

"HEY!!! What was that for!" I squealed, shocked, holding my cheek.

"You didn't answer and your face looked like you were having a conversation with someone else not in this room."

Oh... "I'm telling the truth..."

"Well, with that little show... I'm inclined to believe you. But, why Tobias?"

He looked tasty.

Bastard.

I love when you talk to me like that.

My eyes bugged out my head at Steve's last comment.

"What did the killer say?" she asked curiously.

"Trust me, You don't want to know."

She shrugged, "Got anything to eat in this place?"

Good ole Ollie always wanting food. She shimmied her way into my tiny kitchen. I heard her open the fridge and whine.

"Where's all your food?!"

"I haven't been shopping." I called back. A few seconds later she ran from the kitchen and jumped on me.

"Get ready bish we are going to get pancakes!" She laughed, rolling off the couch onto the floor.

I laughed at her goofiness, so did Steve.

We made our way down the bustling busy streets of Manhattan to the quaint little coffee on the corner. It was slow for midday considering the herds of people running about outside it.

I think Mr. Hands is the cause of the poor business. Steve whispered as my eye focused on the Detective sitting towards the back. He seemed super focused on what he was reading. Didn't even look up to see who came in the door. I wondered what was so important. Ollie nudged me forward towards the counter.

"Hello, Miss what will it be today?" the freckled face boy asked. He looked at me expectantly. I skimmed over the menu on the counter trying to decide what I wanted.

"Matcha green tea for me, please." Ollie chimed in cheerfully. I smiled down at the menu, then grimaced. I hate that stuff.

"Uh... Chai latte for me." I looked up at the boy, who grumbled keying in the order. The lady in the back came forward and whirred up the machine to make the latte, as he threw together Ollie's green tea. That's when I felt someone standing stupid close to me.

"Back off buster." I warned. A familiar chuckle came from the person. Oh great.

Handsy boy has spotted his prey.

Shut it.