Two Days Later
Kentrell laid on the ground next to a dead body, the blood pouring from a young girl's head after her face had been reconstructed by his fist.
Steve Lacy played in the background of his basement, and he sung the song quietly, currently grounding up weed to fill his backwood.
He grabbed a small knife from his pocket, dragging the blade slowly down the skin of his forearm. He watched himself leak blood, and he swiped some up on his finger, then rubbed it on the backwood.
He dumped his weed on top of it, using more of his blood to seal the blunt after rolling it.
"Girl, you're the one I wan'. You the one I need. I'm beggin' you, please?" He mumbled lowly, blowing smoke out of his mouth after sparking his blunt.
The irony taste of his blood lingered in his mouth, and it kind of burned as he breathed the vaporized blood through his nose. He loved it.
He reached over, using his knife to split her neck open, watching as her body gushed out even more blood.
He stuck the knife through her chin, before sitting up, turning the volume of his music up louder. He continued to listen to Steve Lacy while smoking his blunt, finishing it up while cleaning up the mess he'd made.
He felt no emotion as he did so, something he did quite often actually. Committing murders was one of his favorite hobbies that not many knew about. Of course they could use context clues from his songs, but they'd never know the half.
The thrill he got from taking another's life was like none he'd ever felt before. It was a rollercoaster of emotions; first excitement, then guilt, and then relief. It was a repetitive pattern. He enjoyed it for the most part.
It seemed like nothing besides killing could make him feel anything anymore. Even if it gave him a bad feeling, he didn't mind. He just wanted to feel something, anything.
Kentrell's eyes darted around his basement floor, making sure he'd gotten everything cleaned up, leaving no evidence that anybody was ever there.
His eyes were low, focusing on the steps that he was walking up, leaving out of his basement after turning off the music.
He closed and locked the door, rounding the corner and then walking up another set of stairs to get to his bedroom. He needed a shower badly. He hated being dirty.
He pulled his shirt from over his head, throwing it in his hamper once he made it to his room. He fully undressed, walking nakedly to his bathroom, getting in the shower.
As he stood underneath the water, his thoughts began to cloud his head, drowning out the sound of everything else.
Kentrell caught at least one body every week. It had been a continuous cycle for the last two years. It was the only thing that made him feel something, as stated before. He'd do whatever to keep feeling.
At times, he wished he'd be caught already. The people he killed were innocent and were only used for his benefit. They didn't deserve what he did to them, their families didn't deserve the pain he caused.
He often wondered who he even was. Who'd given him the right to continue to take lives? Why hadn't his been taken yet? Why hadn't he been punish the same way he'd been punishing others?
He never had answers to his own questions, and for the most part he was okay with that. Thinking too much made his head hurt, searching for answers he'd never get. Nobody could answer them, including himself.
Kentrell wrapped a towel around his waist after stepping out of his shower, walking into his room. His house was silent since he was the only one there-surprisingly. He hated silence.
Whenever it was silent, everything was so loud. He could hear every whisper, every thud, every taunt, every threat. All things of his imagination, of course. But with the disorders that he had, it was hard to differentiate reality from a self induced delusion.
He'd grown tired of not knowing whether things were real or not; tired of not knowing what had taken place because he'd switched personalities, tired of not knowing what he was capable of doing to others, and to himself. He was tired of being tired.
Nobody understood his silent battle with depression. No one answers his cries for help, begging for someone to notice that something was wrong. Everything was wrong, and yet he couldn't point out exactly what it was; but he wanted-he needed-someone to notice. Someone to relate.
Kentrell was snapped out of his thoughts as his phone rung, and he looked over at his dresser, grabbing it and answering the call.
"Nigga come fucking get me. School got out ten minutes ago." Pierre spoke over the phone, and Kentrell pulled it back, trying to figure out who he was talking to.
"Who the fuck you talkin' to?" He rose an eyebrow in genuine confusion, pulling on a pair of sweats over his boxers.
"Bra come get me." Pierre huffed, and Kentrell ended the call, chuckling as he slid his phone in his pocket.
He put in a fitted white tee, and then a pair of white socks, pairing the lazy outfit with a pair of white Air Force ones.
He sprayed a few pumps of his cologne, and then grabbed his phone again, jogging out of his room and downstairs towards the garage.
He unlocked his phone, going to the Tesla app to start his car. Once the lights flashed, the door handle popped out, and he got inside.
He used his phone to let up the garage, and then switched back to the Tesla app to remotely drive out of his garage.
It took him half an hour to make it to Pierre's school, and by the time he'd made it there he was beyond irritated. He didn't know why Pierre didn't call Ben or KD to come get him, or why he didn't drive a car on his own.
He analyzed his surroundings through his dark tinted windows, looking for nothing in particular, his just always needed to be aware of what was around him.
The passenger door opened to his car, and people began to scream as Pierre got inside, knowing that NBA Youngboy was driving the expensive car.
"Nigga drive off, I know you see they ugly ass." Pierre frowned at him after seeing his attention on something else.
"Wait." He mumbled, shifting his gun on his waist as he emerged from his car, the screams becoming louder as a crowd formed.
"Get the fuck out my way. Move." He pushed through them, not caring about the cameras that were recording him.
"Amour." He called, approaching her, making Xalani turn her head.
"Oh..my..god." Kanai whispered, in slight shock. She had totally forgotten that he was even at her sister's therapy session, so this was the first time she'd actually saw him.
Xalani's hand placed on his chest to stop him from coming any closer to her; him already being within her breathing space, so close that if she looked up her forehead would be touching his chin.
"Top y-."
"Don't call me that. My name Kentrell." He mumbled, staring down at her, and Xalani used his body to shield her frame after seeing the multiple cameras on him.
"Please back up." She spoke, so quiet that it was almost a whisper.
"No." He reached near her hair, the same as he did two days ago, only this time he removed the strap of her mask from behind her ear, revealing her face.
"You so beautiful." He told her, and her face flushed red. She was so embarrassed, she just wanted to disappear into thin air.
"Xalani.." Kanai trailed off, confused with how close Kentrell was to her.
"Can you tell him to make them go away please?" Xalani quickly signed with her hands as Kentrell's eyes remained on her.
"She wants you to tell your fans to leave." Kanai told him, and Kentrell glanced over at her, before back at Xalani, and then he turned so that his back faced her.
"I'll air this bitch out right now on god. Get the fuck back." Kentrell pulled his gun from his waist, still not caring about the cameras that were on him.
"Nigga what the fuck is you doing?" Pierre approached him along with a few of Kentrell's security guards that he called, clearing out the swarm of people.
"Nothin'. Go back to tha' car." He muttered, turning back around to look down at a very obviously shy Xalani.
"Zay?" Pierre rose an eyebrow in confusion after seeing Xalani, who was so nervous that her body was basically trembling.
"I'm not gone hurt you. Why you scared of me?" He asked, and Kanai frowned, seeing Xalani close to having a panic attack. Xalani didn't understand why he was in front of her, why did he even approach her in the first place?
"C-c-can you p-please m-m-m-m-m-." Her flow of speech was disrupted by the involuntary repetition of trying to pronounce 'move'; her anxiety through the roof.
"Amour.." He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown after seeing how afraid she was.
"Can somebody please get him out of my face?!" She exasperated, upset at the fact that they were just allowing him to stand there as if she knew him. Her sister, Pierre, and the security guards were just watching and it was irritating her.
"Top, what you doing bra?" Pierre grabbed his shoulder, and his attention adverted.
"Ion know. I'm sorry." He said to Xalani, who didn't even so much as glance at him as she quickly walked away with her sister.
"Kanai please stop looking at me." She spoke above her normal tone, so upset she felt like she would explode.
"Girllllaaaaa that nigga was all in your face like you gave him a piece of that pu-."
"Kanai!" She shrieked, and Kanai busted out laughing at how stressed she sounded.
"I'm just sayingggg. Let me find out what y'all did at therapy and you didn't tell me bitch." She mushed her head, and Xalani heavily sighed, before cracking a smile, making Kanai laugh again.
"I didn't do anything with him." She chuckled, climbing into Kanai's Range.
"I'm like mhm whatever.." Kanai waved her off, making her smack her lips.
"I'm serious. I don't know why he was so comfortable being in my face like that, I don't know him at all and he definitely doesn't know me. That was so weird, like we had one conversation. Maybe two. What gives him the right?" Xalani signed with her hands, her long nails tapping against each other.
"Oh bitch don't talk with your hands now. You was just talking." Kanai rolled her eyes at her, and she chuckled, sitting back in her seat while Kanai drove.
"I-I really don't k-know why he was t-there or why he came u-u-up to me. I was s-so scared oh my god. He scared the shit out of me." She mumbled, leaning her head against the window.
"Maybe he li-no scratch that, he definitely fucking likes you. When he took your mask off on god that nigga fell in love. Like in love in love-and I can see why. You so pretty sista." Kanai glanced over at her as she drove, and Xalani held a small smile on her face.
"You r-really think s-s-so?" She mumbled, sitting up a bit.
"I know so. I try to tell you a lot because I know that you don't see what everyone else sees when they call you pretty. You really are beautiful Zay." She told her, and Xalani playing with the hem of the oversized hoodie she wore, sighing.
"Thank you." She rubbed her thumb in her palm to soothe herself, leaning back in her seat again.
"Do you think I should apologize?" Xalani asked, making Kanai look over at her.
"Well-you were a tad bit rude. But then again he came out of nowhere all in your space so, I don't know. He didn't seem like he meant any harm though." Kanai shrugged, and Xalani huffed, unlocking her phone to text Pierre.
After getting Kentrell's number from him, she texted him at the same time Kanai pulled in their garage.
"I'm about to take a nap. Wake me up if you need me." Kanai yawned, following behind Xalani in the house, and she nodded, the two of them going opposite directions.
Xalani's phone dinged with a text once she closed her room door behind her, and she looked down at the message.
She pulled off her clothes after reading the message, tossing her phone on the bed. She pulled on a muscle shirt, leaving her panties on as she climbed on top of her silk sheets, laying back on the matching pillows.
Her phone dinged again, and she picked it up, seeing that Kentrell texted again. She rose an eyebrow at what he sent, texting him back.
Once his number flashed across her screen with a FaceTime request, she pondered on if she would answer it. It took her a few seconds, but she finally pressed the green icon.
She stared at him through the camera without saying anything, and he did the same to her, analyzing her features.
"I'm sorry if I'm annoying." He told her, laying on his arm in his bed, his short dreads in his face.
"You're not." She texted his phone, and after reading the message, he cracked a smile.
"You was talkin' to me earlier. Yo stuttering only bad when you nervous or somethin'?" He asked, and she nodded her head.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry." He kept his eyes on her, and she typed in their chat, sending another message.
"It's fine. I'm easily embarrassed. That's a me thing and not a you thing, so don't trip." He read in his head, before nodding.
"Still, I know that was a lil weird since we barely talked. I just be seeing what I wan' and be goin' for it." He told her, and she chuckled.
"How do you want somebody who you don't even know?" She texted his phone, and he shrugged.
"I'm weird like 'dat." He said, before pausing, about to say something else, but it took him a few seconds. "You so pretty Amour."
"Thank you. I'd prefer if you called me Xalani though." She pressed send on the message after adding a few laughing emojis.
"My bad. Can you talk to me?" He asked, and she rose an eyebrow at him.
"No. It's hard for me to speak on demand. My stuttering is embarrassing."
"I'a help you. I think the way you talk is cute." He told her, shrugging his shoulders, and a shy smile placed upon her face.
"T-t-t-thank you." She mumbled, taking her face out of the camera because she knew it was red.
"You welcome. That was good. Maybe if you don't focus solely on talkin', it'll help too. Like count to ten in your head then start talkin' without thinkin'. I used to stutter too 'cause my ADHD was real bad when I was younger. It was like my mouth couldn't form the words my brain wanted it to fast enough, so it made me trip over da' words and shit." He revealed, and she tilted her head at the new information.
"H-h-how did you get over it?" She rushed out, and he licked over his lips, shifting the way he was laying.
"The special Ed teacher wrote me letters. Reading the words from a paper instead of thinking about what you gone say helps. Anything that doesn't involve thinking will help you get better. Ion think it's nothin' wrong wit' how you talk though." He told her, and she smiled.
"Thank you. I-I appreciate t-that." She breathed slowly, trying not to focus so much on her talking.
"You welcome. I'll write you letters. I mean-if you wan' me to? I will. I can give it to you at the sessions and like-tutor you with your speech or somethin'. I don't know." He kind of stumbled over his words, and Xalani found it cute how nervous he was.
"Okay. Thank you, Kentrell." She spoke softly, and he smiled in the camera.
my eyes burn