(THERES A NEW CHAPTER BEFORE THIS! Read SEVEN BEFORE EIGHT. I UPDATED TWICE)
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"I am sorry for only two things. These two things are I am sorry that I have mistreated some few animals in my life-time and I am sorry that I am unable to murder the whole damed [sic] human race."
- Carl Panzram.
EIGHT
"I SWEAR TO FUCKING G-D, if you don't pull the trigger, I'll kill you!" He hollered, dark green veins pulsating through his neck. Saliva sprayed from his mouth, merging with the horrible words he was spitting at me. His eyes were a dangerous red, bloodshot from anger or fury, whichever was the worst.
My hands shook vigorously against the blazing metal of the gun. It wasn't simply hatred that I felt for the man before me. You couldn't call it hatred and put a full stop at the end of it. It was much more pure, unadulterated, and dirty.
But for some reason, the slide of my fingers wouldn't pull the trigger.
He stepped closer, his head tilted downwards to face me. He used his left stocky palm to repeatedly slam the top of his head. "Right there." He continued shouting, egging me on to end his life. "Put the bullet through here! It better go balls deep in my fucking skull because you have one bullet left and if I'm still alive when it's been used, you'll regret being born."
My heart thudded against my rib cage. I tried to step back from his shadowed form but my legs had stopped working. I tried, and tried with all the force within me to step back, to pull the trigger, to scream, to do anything. But I couldn't. I couldn't move. I had become a statue built from the clay of fear and helplessness.
I whispered, watching him realise that I wasn't going to kill him. "I can't..."
He dropped his hand and then slowly lifted his head. His eyes were now a vibrant hue, almost fluorescent in the midst of the ugly shade of red his irises seemed to be. His chest rose and fell from how hard he breathed. "You can't?" He chuckled. "Christ, you're so fucking dumb."
I shook my head violently, in a depressing attempt to swat away the months of mental, emotional and physical abuse that he had bestowed upon me. My brain was surrounded by a mesh of ugly words and so my thoughts drowned in depression.
It was all his fault.
I flexed my fingers, tightening my grip on the base of the gun. "Not dumb. Don't call me dumb."
His eyes widened and then he threw his head back and howled into the night air. Suddenly, he looked like a beast of the night. A creature from the underworld.
Then he snarled. "Where's your fucking mommy now, bitch?!" And he reached for the gun, wrenching it from my grasp, probably to beat me to death with it.
But before anything else could happen, I was greeted with pitch darkness and wicked silence.
And my eyes flew open.
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I wiped my stray tears from and cradled the phone by my ear. I was huddled on the bed, my pillows and double stuffed duvet kept me warm even when my insides felt hollow and cold. "It's the first nightmare I've had of him in months."
Diana sighed heavily. I could feel her worry permeate through the telephone line. I knew it was selfish of me to bring the memories to life for her but I needed her. Her voice was soft, understanding my fear. "If your job is triggering your nightmares again then I think you should quit."
I knew she was thinking of the times that my nightmares were so vivid that I'd wake up with panic attacks. One time I had had a minor seizure that nearly sent me to the hospital. "It's nothing serious, I promise. I just...I was just so scared. The dream seemed so real. Hugh was right there."
"Hugh's dead, Aria. We made sure of that." She said, giving me a sense of relief.
I nodded seriously, forcing my brain to process that he was dead. I didn't want anymore nightmares. How could he frighten me so much yet be so dead? I fought back a wave of nausea. "I'm so glad he's dead, I'm so so happy."
"I am, too." She whispered. I knew then that she too must have been crying.
I knew what had triggered the night mare was the conversation I had had with Banshee and what I had found out about him, his mother, his killings. It had somehow triggered the same fear I had felt two years ago, on the day of my graduation.
Diana muttered in my ear, breaking out silence. "I had a nightmare about two days ago. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry about me when you had your job to think about." She confessed. "Besides, Dante helps me cope with everything."
Because of her insecure attachment to our parents as a child, she was very dependent on anyone who showed her an inkling of affection. I tried so hard to contain the shock in my voice but I failed. My erratic heart didn't still. "You told him about the past?"
"No!" She hurried. "I'm not stupid, Aria."
I agreed. "I'm sorry, I was just worried."
"It's OK. I meant that talking to him just helps me cope with everything. He's very supportive and even if we're writing to each other, he's an amazing listener." She paused, when she realised I wasn't speaking. "Perhaps you should get someone to talk to. Who'd listen to you."
"Diana, for fuck sake, what is wrong with you?" I couldn't help but spit. My anger was stemming from my initial fear. "I called you because you're the someone I'm talking to. I don't want to talk about this with anyone else, and you shouldn't too. Jesus."
There was heavy silence on the line.
Then Diana sniffed, whispering. "God, I really miss mom."
And in that moment, all I wanted to do was become a satellite transmission so I could travel through the phone cord and hug her. I wanted to be in the comfort of my home, not surrounded by killers who reminded me of things I didn't want to ever remember. I felt five years old again, and I wanted to cry.
"I miss her too, and I love you."
"I love you too. Stay safe, alright?" She insisted. "I've got a super early work shift in the morning so I have to go now." She paused, weighing her options. I could almost envision her twirling her hair between her fingers. "I could stay if you need me."
I shook my head, knowing she couldn't see me. "No, it's fine. I'll be fine." I said, more to myself than to anyone else. "Use your dream catcher tonight. It helps you sleep better."
"I will. Goodnight, Ari."
I chuckled at my childhood nickname. "Goodnight, D."
When the phone clicked off, all feelings of warmth I had thought I had dissolved into thin air. I hugged the covers tighter against me and let my eyes wander over the large bedroom. Even as I was sleeping in a place I would call luxurious, I suddenly missed my tiny cramped up bedroom, and the bed I shared with Diana.
I was in a posh apartment complex with other staff members yet I craved my council flat that smelled faintly of vanilla.
I shivered. This job was tasking because it was a lonely, long and terrifying one. If the job is triggering the nightmares, you should quit— I recalled Diana's words and pondered over them. Perhaps it was time to call it a day. I had done two interviews and that meant I would earn half of nearly 900£. That was more than enough for what I and Diana needed to live a better life.
Then again, did we want a better life or an entirely different one?
My mind travelled to my mother. If she were here, she'd have said that the most important thing was me. My self, my mind, my experience, my wellbeing. Did I want to do this? Did I like this? Was I really, truly ready for the damned? Even if I knew that my mom was never good at taking her own advice which resulted in her death, I was going to take it.
I pulled the covers over my head and groaned. "But what do I want?!"
What I needed was a sign.
Closing my eyes and hearing nothing but the melodrama of my heartbeat, I waited for a sign. I waited and waited for anything that'll tell me the right thing to do. I tossed the duvet covers off me and marched to the window to peer outside. I saw outlines of trees in the darkness and a street light. The apartment complex I lived in stood on its own for a 10 minute distance. I was even more alone than I had imagined.
"Come on!" I egged on the earth. "Just one sign!"
If a tree so much as tilted forward in the breeze, I would take it as a nod for no. If a bird flew past, I would take it as a sign that I should flee from the place. If a car drove past, that would lead to me driving myself from this building.
But I waited and waited until I was sure that there was nothing else coming.
I dragged my reluctant feet back to my bed and fell back against it. Exhaustion crept in and I felt my eyes slowly close. Just as I was about to sleep, the sound of hard metal scraping along more metal woke me up. I jolted out of bed with my heart in my lungs and a scream lodged in my throat.
When my eyes accustomed to the dimness of my room, I realised that my windows were being closed. Metal came down from the top of the window to the bottom, sealing any outside light that I thought I had. I could hear the door click, signalling that it had been locked. I was panicking. What the hell was going on? Was I dreaming again? — I pinched myself harshly and all I felt was a sharp pain. "Fuck, ouch!"
I slid out from my bed and reached for the light switch. I flicked it off and on. Nothing happened. I was still cloaked in darkness. Knowing that there was a soft spot in my bathroom where whoever lived beside me could hear me — since I could hear their shower whenever I was there, I ran towards it and banged on the walls. "Hello?!"
I heard a muffled sound from the other side along the lines of — "Are you OK?!"
"No! What's going on? My room is dark, and these metal panes just locked me in!"
I hadn't ever met any of my neighbours before because I had always left the building too early to see them, and returned too early for them to be back from work.
The voice sounded less worried. It was a females voice. "Don't worry, it's just a security protocol! Check your emails!"
Oh. "Oh. Um, OK."
How embarrassing. Frank had brought me here and failed to tell me the security procedures in the rooms. I didn't stay mad at Frank long enough though, because the blinking red light on my computer was screaming at me to pay attention to that.
It read:
New Email (MARKED AS HIGH IMPORTANCE): There has been a malfunction with security camera #12389. This camera is the one allocated to observe Harold Kaufman's cell. We do not know if Harold Kaufman has escaped, or if the camera has merely malfunctioned but it will take us a while to find out. Due to this, a lockdown has been issued.
In ten minutes, there would be a lockdown of your accommodation. You must remain in your apartments by this time. The doors and windows will be sealed. It would be impossible for your windows and doors to be pried open so do not attempt to do so. This is for your safety. You would be unable to exit or enter the building so use this moment to go into your apartments and stay calm. It is essential that you do not call the police, they are here and are handling the situation. This is a protocol. Again, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO LEAVE. IF YOU DO, THE CONSEQUENCES WILL OUTWEIGH THE BENEFITS.
My blood ran cold. Harold Kaufman was a serial rapist and killer. He had sexually and physically assaulted a large number of college students regardless of their gender— male, female, and the sorts. He would disguise himself as a lecturer at a large institution and lure the students into his office with promises of increased grades. His brilliant vocabulary and stern voice made it more believable to the clueless kids. How he had managed to escape unnoticed was the fact that he looked like your average next door neighbour. A wolf in sheeps clothing.
But at this point, Kaufman's escape wasn't my biggest priority because I knew I was safe. It was the fact that, even if violently, I had finally gotten my sign in big bold letters rudely glaring at me through my computer screen.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO LEAVE.
And so, I stayed.
I was doing this Project for real.
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I updated twice because tomorrow is my birthday!! (And I hit 1000 reads!) An early birthday present would be your votes and feedback on this book is going!!
Also: The man from her past final has a name!