Page 13

SATANS HELPER

I may have forgotten about the two people upstairs. It’s not my fault, I was tired.

Walking up the stairs, stairs might be a far-stretched word.

These could crumble at any given moment.

They stand arms crossed, one leg over the other, in a perfect line. Their jaws all line up, and my mouth waters from the view. I narrow my eyes and take a slow breath, carrying on as I walk up the rest of the stairs.

Walking back into the room, they all smirk at me and then at each other.

The man hangs, the rope now around his neck.

The woman is hanging too, her wrists still tied up and taken hostage.

“Cheer up. You both look miserable.” I chuckle, but they don’t find it funny.

“Fuck you, crazy bitch.” She spits, missing my face. I step back. Sean steps forward, slapping the woman.

“Next time you call her crazy, I’ll do more than slap you.” He blows me a kiss, walking away.

“Not to break up this adorable moment of Sean being protective over you, but the man hanging from his neck won't last much longer,” Tobias informs me, as if I didn’t already know. Anger floats in my stomach like acid.

“Thank you for stating that. Don’t forget I will happily stab you with this knife, then burn you to ashes.”

“Such bitter-sweet words. Flirting with me again, Angel. You can stab me, then burn me to ashes, but only if I get to taste that sweet pussy of yours.”

“Oh my God.”

I roll my eyes, flipping him off.

“God has no room in this. The only God you will pray to will be us when you are on your knees, waiting for us to fill you up.”

Walking back over to my toys, I take the tip of my knife and cut the rope around the man's neck. He drops to his knees, his hands around his throat as he dry-heaves, trying to catch the lost air back to his lungs.

My knife’s taken to the woman tied at her wrists.

She drops to her knees, rubbing where the rope has left red marks from her blood circulation.

“Run as fast as you can. If I catch you, I kill you. If I don't, you are free.” They both look up at me, wondering whether I'm joking or not.

I never joke.

“If you would rather, I will kill you here. I can also work with that.” My head is thrown back as I toss my knife in the air. The blade lands in the palm of my hand; I laugh at the pain. The pain feels good, giving me more adrenaline.

“Seriously, you two are boring. How about this? If you don't run, I won't just kill you but your whole family as well. Don't underestimate me,” I say. They both pick up three feet and run out the door down the stairs.

They won’t get far, but I like to give people false hope.

The same false hope I was given daily, year after year.

As soon as they enter the woods beside this place, they will think they are free, but what they are yet to discover is that we have traps all over the woods. Not to mention, the men walking out of the room love a good chase, as do I.

I can hear them and smell the fear as they run downstairs. They can get out if they are smart enough to figure it out.

I run down the stairs. I'm struck with a pair of women's feet running. I run after her, she comes toward the back door, it’s locked, but she fights for her life, kicking it until she breaks it down, running outside toward the woods. The dark woods where hell lurks.

“One two, Freddie’s coming for you,” I sing while chasing her, singing loud but running a little slower.

“Three, four, better lock your door.” She enters the woods, surrounded by a dozen trees; the clouds are lower tonight, giving off a foggy effect. Tobias and Sean's eyes meet mine as they enter the woods a little further away from me. Jessie is nowhere to be seen, but he’s here.

“So stupid, you think I won’t catch you.” I repeat the song while I roam the woods, running forward. I come up to the first trap, a man is hanging upside down with rope around his neck and his wrists tied together. He’s not breathing, so I leave him there. He isn’t my problem.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.” An evil laugh leaves me. I see the man running slowly, but I can tell he’s trying.

“You can run, but you can’t hide. When I find you, I’m going to ruin you.” The man comes to a stop feet away from me.

He lurks in the shadows, looking like a figure.

Excitement fills me. I move closer, being cautious of my surroundings.

The man’s back is to me. He has no idea I’m here.

It fuels me, giving me a feeling that I know too much.

The urge to kill, to take his life, then to bring him back home and cook a delicious meal.

My stomach howls at the thought of agreeing with my sincerest thoughts.

“Gotcha!” I shout as I retrieve the knife from my pocket. Before I can stab the man, Sean and Tobias make an appearance with the woman. I drive my knife into the man's lower back, causing him to scream.

Sean holds her in a chokehold. I can't help but feel jealous. I should be in the chokehold, not her. I walk over, holding the blade of my knife toward her face. I stab her eyes, moving in and out, right and left. Her right eyeball falls to the floor. Making Sean move, I slice her throat, watching the blood ooze out as she falls to the floor, no longer breathing. Bitch, that’s on you, no one except me gets choked.

“Bitches who take what’s not theirs don't deserve to live.” I spit on her, letting her body become limp as I move to the other guy, who is now in Tobias’s strong grip with no way out.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” I giggle, swinging my knife in my hand, thinking of all the ways I’m going to mark this man’s body.

The blade of the knife is at the tip of the man’s neck.

I toy with the idea of slicing him open, but I refrain from acting on my dark, unhinged thoughts.

The voices are louder than ever. Screaming at me, back and forth.

Kill him, do it. He deserves it, and while I know he does something in me stops, not because I feel he should be let back out to the world, but because I want him to think he’s free until he's robbed of the feeling of freedom, something I was robbed of year after year.

Tobias releases him from his hold, letting me take over.

I bring my hand around the man’s neck, choking him and backing him up against a tree. I step on my tiptoes, creating more height for myself, and tightening the surrounding grip.

“If you ever speak to a woman like you did tonight, I will carve your skin, leaving evidence of where I was. You are incredibly lucky I’m letting you go. I’m watching you.”

My voice almost echoes, letting my grip leave him, and standing back. He runs. Nowhere to be seen. I feel sick. I let him leave, but the last thing we need is the police up our asses. Going to jail isn’t on my list for this year or next.

The woman is still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to run again. Killing one woman is my rule, but tonight I was blessed with two that needed to go. The first, I cut her throat, and this one, I plan on dragging it out.

I walk toward her, Sean standing behind, keeping her secure.

“As for you. I think I’m going to take you home. You can be my new favourite toy. Cheer up. We are going to have loads of fun.” I walk away toward Tobias Sean, taking the woman with him further behind.

Tobias looks at me.

“What is your mind thinking about it?” He shrugs his shoulders, pushing me with a little force.

“The shower head that’s waiting for me.” His eyes narrow, turning a little to the left as he looks at me, not making any movement for a strong minute.

I lied. I just want to stand in scorching hot water and pick my skin until there isn’t any left and until blood drips, turning the water red and then orange.

A few hours later, we are back home.

The woman’s dragged up the stairs as she screams and kicks like a baby having a meltdown.

I stand in the kitchen, sitting on the countertops, and Tobias hands me a beer.

I let the cold liquid run down my throat and into my body, releasing me.

Killing people is hard. It’s one in the morning, which means I should get to sleep, but as I go to jump off the counter, Tobias is locking himself in between my legs.

“Tell me, Angel. How long have you been hurting yourself?” My eyes narrow, confused about what he’s talking about, and then it clicks that he’s caught on to me and my skin-picking. I hadn’t noticed I had been doing it more frequently, but that’s the whole point.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes are the ones narrowed now. He moves closer to me, closing any personal space I had.

I know what he’s talking about but it’s my shit, not his. This isn't our thing. We don’t check in on each other; that’s how it’s always been. How it should stay.

“Don’t lie to me. Why are you hurting yourself, Angel?” Don’t cry, don't cry. Don’t show weakness!

“I don’t even know I’m doing it. Most of the time, I black out or I’m unable to control the urges.” Every emotion is running through my mind. It takes everything in me not to cry.

I lean up toward him, our eyes locking.

“Do you want the truth?” I ask, knowing I'm about to say the things I think every time I look in the mirror, waiting to shatter into pieces, but it never does. I always leave with the reflection of how broken and useless I am.

“Angel, I want you to tell me why you do what you do so I can understand.” I hesitate for a single second.

Do I really want to be vulnerable? I was always taught it was a bad thing, but how long can I keep this buried before it comes to the surface and blows up?

Then, what will I be? Just a pile of ash waiting to be brushed away like I was never on this earth.

“I pick my skin because when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a broken person, someone who is revolting.” Tears are waiting to fall, streaming down my face, but I know I can't. I need to act strong, even if the words spilling from my mouth are anything but that.