July 15th, 2005
3:03 AM
—————————
Creeeeaakkk......
The sound of your front door opening jolted you awake. Sitting up in bed, you clutched your sheets to yourself. Maybe you forgot to lock it last night? And the wind just pushed it open? Your house is old anyways. It could have just opened by accident.
Tiredly sitting up, you shuffle over to the front door. It is indeed wide open. Shuddering, you pull it closed and lock it. All that cold air was coming in! So annoying. Turning around, you head back to bed. Mmmm... nice and comfy... and warm. Snuggling in, you shut your eyes once again.
Creeaaaakkk.....
Your eyes shoot open. Seriously? You just fucking locked it too.
Standing up again, you shuffle over to your front door. You close and lock it again. So weird. Maybe you'll have a contractor come fix the lock?
You scratch the back of your head and yawn. Turning around, you're met with a red, plush sweater.
Mm..Its very soft. Wait.
Looking up slowly, you see the figure that has intruded into your home. Backing up, you take in the full scale of his form. Incredibly tall, fat, and he's got some weird devil mask on. And he's smiling.
Devil... mask. Devil.......
Oh. It's the killer.
Now you're very awake. Panicking, you shuffle backwards, running straight into your couch. The devil moves closer.
The Red Devil Killer! He's in your house! You're going to fucking die and he's going to eat you!!!!
Sweating, your feet are planted in fear. You can't move as he gets even closer, looming over you. You can feel his hot breath on your face, and he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Thoroughly freaked out now, you switch into fight mode.
As he's distracted with your hair, you do the easiest thing you can do to get him off you. Raising your knee up, you kick him where the sun doesn't shine. He keels over, and groans in pain.
This is your chance!
Spinning on your heel, you book it out the front door. Scared and barefoot, you fully intend to go to the police station.
You check to see if he's behind you. He isn't. Good, maybe you can-
You fall. Face first on the concrete, it scratches your face and knees. It hurts like hell, and your nose is bleeding now.
"Ughh... gotta... go to the police...." You go to stand up, and the Devil grabs you. He lifts you up, his arm around your waist and his hand covering your mouth.
You're not going to die tonight!!!
Squirming, you kick and punch, trying to get him to let you go. Noticing that every time you squirm he grips harder, you take this opportunity to bite down on his hand. Hard.
He lets you go, cradling his hand in pain. And you keep running, each little pebble on the ground sinking into your feet. But you don't care- you want to live!
Bob is pissed. You're a fighter, all right. He wasn't intending to kill you, just scare you a bit. And he decides that he's done for the night after he inspects the bite mark on his hand. It's bleeding. God damnit. Whatever, it seemed you were throughly scared.
He slinks off, fully intending to kill some other poor soul.
————
You burst into the police station, looking like a complete mess. Jack and John - the two working police officers - look at you in surprise.
Running up to them, you lean down on your knees and pant. "The.... Killer..... he... I almost... huhghhgggg...."
"Woah Woah slow down." John says, walking up to you. "What happened?"
Jack puts a blanket over your shoulder and you catch your breath. "The killer. He was in my house."
At that, Jack and John share a look.
John speaks up. "Jack, watch them. I'm gonna go check it out." He pulls out his gun and looks at you. "Where's your house?"
You look at him, paper towel clutched on your bleeding nose. "Right across from Boys and Grills. The green one."
John nods and runs out, cigarette in his mouth bouncing.
Jack leads you to a chair and sits you down. He takes a look at your knees. "I'm gonna go get a first aid kit."
Mind blank, you just nod.
He returns with the kit and grabs a chair so he can sit in front of you. Opening the kit, he asks, "Are you okay?"
You look at his hands rummaging through the kit. "Yeah. I... thought I was going to die." You've only ever felt like you were going to die once before. Guess this makes two now.
Jack gives you a sympathetic look and begins to clean your knees. You hiss, and he winces. "Sorry."
"It's okay. Just keep going."
It's silent for a bit, and then Jack peeps up. "Hey... didn't you just move in?"
You nodded. "Yeah. A month ago."
"Why would you want to move to a town like this?" Jack asks. "Not making fun, just asking a genuine question. You don't have to answer."
You smile and look at him. "No, it's fine." You sigh. "I just needed to get away. And this tiny ass town is basically in the middle of no where. It's a nice place to start over."
Jack decides not to push you any further. "Alright, you're all cleaned up." He stands. "What are you gon-"
"I didn't find anything." John says, walking in the door. "Are you sure it was him that attacked you?"
You nod. "Yes. It was definitely him. He had a devil mask on and everything."
"Hmm.. well Jack and I'll check again in the mornin'. Do you want to sleep at the station tonight? We can drive you home in the morning."
"Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you." You definitely didn't want to sleep alone tonight.
Jack nods and sits down. "Feel free to sleep. We'll keep an eye on ya."
Nodding, you laid down on the bench, curling up under the blanket they gave you. You fell asleep to Jack and John talking about the killer.
———————
As Bob powered on his saw, he thought of what had just transpired a few hours ago. You genuinely looked terrified. But.... That didn't seem to change his growing feelings for you.
Why didn't they go away? What was he doing wrong? He stayed away from you for a week, embarrassed you constantly, and now he's scared the shit out of you. But scaring you didn't seem satisfying. If anything, it just kinda made him feel bad. Which is literally the opposite of what he was going for. He enjoys scaring people, and yet... scaring you...
Maybe he'll visit you in the morning? Just to check if you're okay. He hopes that you didn't recognize it was him tonight.
He decides not to think about it anymore. He had a body to prepare.
———————
You stretch, cracking your back loudly. Opening your eyes and groaning, you're suddenly made aware of the searing pain in your legs and nose. Sitting up, you observe your knees.
They're starting to turn purple, and there's crusty blood patches dried around the bandaids Jack applied last night. Maybe you should have done it yourself, because now you're going to have to re clean them. Oh well. You'll take a bath when you get home.
"Good mornin.'" John walks in, holding a cup of coffee. He extends it out to you, and you take it, inhaling the scent of caffeinated goodness.
John sits down next to you. "We did a little digging around your house this morning. Nothing seemed out of order, except for the broken lock on your door." You inwardly groaned. "... Do you think you'll be okay to go home?" He asks.
You take a sip of the coffee. "Yeah. I'll be okay. Can you drive me?"
"Of course. And we'll send someone over later in the week to fix your lock."
You decide not to say that it was broken before the attack, because you don't want to turn down a free replacement. So you just nod.
—————-
Standing at your front door, you walk in and turn to Jack and John outside. "Thanks for driving me."
"No problem. And here." John hands you a slip of paper with a phone number on it. "If you ever have trouble, or you see him again, call me. We'll try and help as soon as possible."
You smile. "Thanks. I will." You wave as the two officers drive away.
Groaning, you close your door and walk into your bathroom. You start the bath, and get a better look at the full extent of your injuries.
There's a huge cut on the bridge of your nose, and your feet have minor scrapes on the bottom of them. You sit down on the edge of the bath and peel off the bandaids that Jack put on you last night. Wincing, you see that the wounds are fresh and red. This is great. Just great. At least your nose won't need stitches....
Undressing, you sink into the bath and sigh. You can't believe that happened last night. He was so fucking intimidating... and strong. You grimaced as you felt the phantom sensation of his arms around your waist.
Ahhhh more trauma to add to the existing trauma.
You're knocked out of your self-loathing state as the doorbell rings. Groaning, you step out of the bath and quickly wrap a towel around yourself.
Walking over to the door, you open it.
Bob stands there, taking in your basically naked body. You've got huge scrapes on your legs, and your nose is fucked up.
Your face goes red, and you quickly close the door on him. You thought it was Lila! Fuck.
You creak open the door and stick your head out, embarrassed smile on your face. "Um. Hi."
Bob looks at you. "Is this a bad time?" He notices you're hiding behind the door now.
You're unable to say yes, so you just shake your head. "No, it's fine. I was just getting done. Wanna uh... come in?"
"I don't want to bother-"
"It's fine."
"....Alright."
You open the door, stepping to the side. Bob waltzes in, hands in his pockets. He's wearing his work shirt, but the hat and apron are absent. You notice that his hair has gotten a bit longer. A few strands stick out past his ears. Cute.
You point at the couch. "Sit down. I'll be right back." And at that you rush back to the bathroom, careful not to slip.
He came at the worst fucking time! Why didn't I just say go home and we'll talk later? God I'm such a idiot ...
You lean down and drain the bath. Drying off as best as you could, you exit the bathroom and walk into your room, changing into a t-shirt 3 sizes too big and a pair of bike shorts. You grab a couple bandaids and Neosporin, walking back to Bob.
"Sorry. Had to get dressed." You say, sitting down on the couch next to him.
Sighing, he asks the inevitable. "What happened?"
You glance at your knees. "Last night... the serial killer... he broke into my house."
Bob knows this but looks at you with concern anyway.
"I managed to escape, but fell in the process." You say, gesturing to your knees and nose. "So yeah... that's that." You observe Bob, and notice that his hand is bandaged. You point at it. "What happened to you?"
Bob looks down at the bandage on his hand. "Oh. I uh... burned myself at work. No biggie." He turns to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"
You sigh and reach for a bandaid, peeling it open. "Yeah. I'm okay. I just...." You look away. "Never-mind." Bob is still looking at you.
"What?"
He points at your nose. "Need help?"
Before you can answer, he grabs the Neosporin and applies it on his finger. Bringing it up to your face, he gently rubs it on the cut. You're frozen, and decide not to move. Bob grabs a bandaid, and sticks it on the wound. He smiles. "There. All better."
You're very red now. Looking away, you mumble. "Thanks..."
Bob leans back. " I can't believe that happened. I'm glad he didn't hurt you." He says, voice low. You just nod. It's awkward now.
Bob stands up, stretching. "I better go. Cant be late." Before he leaves, he pauses. "Text me. I'll bring you dinner later."
Before you can object, he's already gone.
Okay.... Okay.... You're not sure how to react to what just happened so you just sit there.
You'll... text him later. Free dinner sounds great anyways.