a volcano and a tornado

ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ.

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In Another Life

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Eliza didn’t mind that their home was run down and barely fit for habitation. Being what she was, the cold never bothered her and neither did exposure to nature. Few things bothered her, to be quite honest about it. Despite the curse of her eternal hunger for human flesh–that, despite her deep love for him, did not exclude the man who sat not far from her–there were quite a few perks to becoming a wendigo. Maybe most would say it wasn’t worth the cannibalism, but she had made her choice years ago and it was far too late to take it back now.

Nose buried in a book as she absently gnawed on a bone, she almost didn’t notice the sound of the vehicle outside until it was quite close. Once she did notice it, however, she could have sworn her hackles raised, despite the fact that she didn’t have any when she was under her human guise. With slow care, she bookmarked her page and set the novel and the bone down before standing up. The wooden floor was cold under her bare feet as she walked towards the window, or at least it would have been if her body noticed those sorts of sensations.

“Who do you think it is?” She pondered, voice quiet as she turned her attention back to Nathaniel.

The older male watched as she gracefully made her way to the glass panes; her humanly actions a complete one-eighty from those of the thing she became from time to time. It didn’t bother him, honestly, if anything... her wendigo side intrigued him even further. She was like a coin with two sides and he’d fallen for the heads and tails.

Her small voice brought him back to the present as he shook his head. “I haven’t the slightest clue, babydoll.” His own book being placed on a nearby end table as he got up to join her. The movements weren’t nearly as dainty as the ones he’d just witnessed, his sloppy posture slumping closer to the same window Eliza peeked through.

The truck appeared to be carrying three men as they slid nosily out from their seats, reaching into the bed to retrieve something. “Are those-?” His question cut off as he realized the objects they’d fetched were hunting rifles.

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In Another Life

Nathaniel sat in the old recliner that was barely hanging on by a thread as a familiar book rest in his hands, his finger tips playing at the frayed page edges. The broken down exterior of his favorite chair mirrored the house that surrounded it perfectly. To say their home was a dump would be putting it nicely. But in reality, it was all he and Eliza needed; a place to share in the woods.

It had been about a year since he’d found the petite blonde wandering the forest... if only he’d known what he did now at that moment. What started out as a man attempting to save a ‘defenseless’ young woman would turn into something else entirely. Nathaniel had grown to love her, and no-- not the overused cliche love found in movies, the kind of love that he felt with every fiber of his being. They were opposites in more ways than one, but their similarities were also large in numbers. Together, and though different types, they were both monsters.

He heard the rustling of branches long before seeing the old pickup truck as it slowly rolled up to their little shack. His brows pulled together as he glanced over to Eliza with a questioning expression. No one ever visited... how could they? As far as the pair were aware, they had gone unnoticed in the thick patch of trees.

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The Jail Chronicles

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No remorse showed on John’s expression as Nathaniel lashed out at him, though he did make a mental note to make sure there was extra security on the serial killer at all times. The last thing he needed was an incident that had a risk of revealing the corruption so deep in the ranks. It had taken a long time to silence those who would speak up and he certainly wasn’t about to let the psycho in front of him take that effort away.

“She’s an innocent girl, huh?” He echoed, one eyebrow quirking. “You said she was your prisoner. What makes what we did so much worse than what you did? Or are you admitting she wasn’t a prisoner?” The officer had his money on the latter; anyone who had seen the way the pair threw themselves at each other knew that there was something more there than a cruel man and his tragic victim.

Leaning closer–but careful to not be close enough to be touched by the criminal–John grinning. “I’d like to see you try. You hurt me or any of my men, I won’t come after you. No, I promise. I won’t touch you. Little Eliza will pay the price for anything you do.” Finding something that he could use as leverage was a great opportunity; it meant he could likely get whatever he wanted out of the man in front of him and, well, if he was forced to use that leverage, it wouldn’t be a great tragedy on his behalf.

“Now, are you ready to talk?”

“Holding her hostage and raping her are two different things. That’s what makes what you did so much worse.” His eyes narrowed, his entire body dead still. The anger that built within him burned like a fire, though his exterior looked like nothing more than an ice sculpture. I don’t like people touching my things. The statement told to most of his victims replayed over and over in his mind. This ‘man,’ if he could even call himself that, had touched-- defiled his babydoll, and there was an eternity of hell to pay for that.

As the officer leaned closer, Nathaniel remained frozen in place, though he mentally did the math to figure if he could grab him, wrap his pathetic neck in his hands and choke the life out of him. There was no room, not yet. Nathaniel was a patient man... he’d wait for his opportunity and take the chance instantly.

The threats went one ear and out the other as he knew they were completely empty; the moment he got out of this, Eliza would be safe in his arms and all of those pigs would be knocking on death’s door. Now the officer was trying to egg him on, to get information they both knew Nathaniel wasn’t going to give.

“I told you before,” his calm tone obviously faked, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Eliza is innocent... I don’t know why you want me to lie to you.”

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The Worst Game

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Eliza refused to believe that she wouldn’t make it home. Sure, she wasn’t stupid and she knew the odds were far from in her favor, but she had to hold onto that hope or else all would be lost. Now with her promise to Nathaniel, she had another reason to keep fighting. She didn’t like to disappoint people and teaching him how to cook would certainly be a lot of fun. If she survived the games, she suspected she would need a lot of fun to get her mind off of it.

Blue eyes widened as it all went dark before they widened even further as a whole new world appeared outside of the windows. She uncurled from the seat, standing up on the tips of her toes to see the view better as she took in all the things she had never thought she would see. It was the most amazing thing she had seen and  a bright grin settled on her face as the sight distracted her from what was to come. “It’s amazing,” she murmured.

He watched with softened features as she jumped to her feet, eyes glued to the window like a dog waiting for their owner to return. “It is.” He whispered in response as her hues jumped around to take in the completely new sights. “The closer we get to the capital, the more extravagant it gets... I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” His words almost implying that he knew all about the young tribute, not implying the reality that he’d only met her moments ago. She had this effect on him, and he was sure any everyone else she’d met, that calmed him; like he’d known her his entire life. Mentoring wasn’t too harsh of a task for Nathaniel, but something told him training her to kill... to be killed was going to be one of the hardest tasks he’d yet to face.

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The Jail Chronicles

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John gave the man a smile, but there was no kindness it it; it was the grin of a predator that had found its prey. “I’ll be sure to tell her it was your choice then,” he said, tone still as polite as could be despite the darkness in his eyes as he unhooked Nathaniel from the table and ushered him out to the hall. Several guards took him back to his cell, returning a couple minutes later with the very confused, sleepy blonde that was still wearing her blood stained dress.

He kept her in his company–and the company of two other cops just as corrupt as he was–for a little under an hour, leaving her shaking and crying desperately due to what he would adamantly refer to as ‘interrogation techniques’. Eliza was already damaged when she had been brought into the room, but when she left, she would never be quite the same. Despite the tears on her face and the bruise that was appearing on her cheek, she tried to manage a smile when she saw the love of her life as he was taken back into the room.

“Unfortunately,” John hummed, that same grin on his face. “She didn’t say much. But, of course, we’re dedicated and we’ll be willing to give her another go if you haven’t changed your mind?”

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Nathaniel’s eyes widened as his cuffs were unlocked and the threat was seemingly a go. Every inch of him begged to thrash against the guards, to scream the awful things he had every intention of doing to him if so much as laid a finger on his babydoll. His appearance remained unfazed, despite the utter chaos swirling in his mind, the less he appeared to care, the more likely Eliza would make it out of this unscathed.

The complete silence and pacing of the floor was broken as the same guards returned after what felt like ages. “Where is she?” He asked, slight anger hinting at his tone as he eyed the men who stared at him response-less. “I said, where is she?” Any fake sense of peace he’d had flew out the door as he slammed his fists against the iron bars separating the males. It took a bit of adjusting, but one restrained the upper half of Nathaniel’s body as the other brought him out into the hall.

He resisted slightly, eyes searching like a mad man for any sign of her as the three made their way down the pale corridor. And then he got what he was after; a glimpse. Her smile was broken, though she tried her best to hide it, he knew the smile too well to know the hurt behind the one he’d just received. Her soft skin covered in dried blood along with black and blue patches, her dress bundled and frayed at the edges. He was speechless, and just like that, he was torn away from the view as they pushed him back into the room.

“I will fucking kill you!” He spat in the officer’s face, his limbs flying every which way in protest as they hooked him back to the table. “She’s an innocent girl!” The life drained from his face as he suddenly became eerily still, his dark eyes locked onto John’s. An empty laugh filled the room as he tilted his head slightly. “Killing you is going to be the best one yet. That dick of yours? I’m going to cut it off and shove it down your throat, and just when your brain cries out for oxygen, I’ll let you breathe. Just for a moment, though, before I continue to do it again and again and your pleas for death will fall on deaf ears as you pay for what you’ve just done.”

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The Worst Game

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At his honest answer, Eliza’s eyes lit up. Despite it all, she couldn’t help her quiet desperation for happiness. If everything in the world was turned against her, she didn’t care; she would make her own joy and she would share it with as many people as possible no matter what the circumstances. Perhaps it would get her killed and perhaps it made her look ridiculously naive, but she didn’t care at all.

“Then when we get home, I’ll teach you everything I know. You’ll be cooking like a pro before you know it. You’ll be better than any of those fancy-smancy Capitol chefs, I promise.” She really had no idea what Capitol food tasted like given that her appetite was currently nonexistent, but she believed that food made with love would be anything else.

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A sharp pain shot through his chest as the word promise passed her lips. Promises were just empty words thrown around to appease others; more frequently broken than kept. It was a fact, though the petite blonde had seemed so sure that she would, indeed, teach him how to cook. The severity of the situation seemed lost on her, or maybe she just chose to ignore the odds and hold onto that hope of hers until the end.

“That sounds nice.” A small and forced smile was flashed in her direction as the lights went black, the train passing the first of many tunnels on their trip. “Congratulations, Ms. Winnick, you’re one of the chosen few to see more than just your own district.” The warm sun flooding through the windows to reveal the landscape had changed completely.

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The Jail Chronicles

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John quirked a brow at the man, keeping his expression level. “Oh, and I’m sure you only ever brutally murder and dismember people who deserve it.” He knew Nathaniel was lying, even if he wasn’t totally sure about the real relationship between the petite blonde and the psycho murderer. “Look. It’s fine if you don’t want to talk. We can take you back to your cell and bring in Eliza and see what she has to say. I have a few…persuasion techniques I’d love to try out on a pretty little thing like her. I might even get the other guys involved too. What do you say? Does that sound better?”

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“As a matter of fact, I do.” His eyes remaining locked on John from the second he entered the room. His fingers twitched ever so slightly when her name was spoken to the air, Nathaniel quickly allowing his calm composure to remain washed over him. The cop’s threats were empty; no way a police station would ever condone such actions. Whether he liked it or not, Eliza was safe as long as he refused to play into their hands. “Go ahead, she’s just a prisoner, I doubt you’ll find any information of any value.”

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The Worst Game

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Eliza’s smile brightened as she chose to focus on the unlikely future rather than all the nightmares that were soon going to come. “Then I’ll have to cook for you. You’re way too cute to be eating terrible food,” she chimed, smile finally reaching her eyes as she brushed her blonde hair back out of her face and sat forward. “Maybe I could teach you to cook. What do you think? Do you think I’d be a very good teacher?”

She always wanted to be a teacher, but clearly that was no longer an option. If she won, she would be a show piece in the Capitol’s games, returning every year to smile at cameras as more kids died. If she lost, well, then it would be a moot point.

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Her whole aura radiated warmth and optimism, two things that seemed to be lacking from his genetic code. When he was chosen for the games, the reality of kill or be killed was not a harsh pill to swallow; he did what had to be done and it didn’t affect him at all. She, on the other hand, carried herself with in such a gentle manner he found the reality of her being able to kill highly unlikely.

“I think you’d make a great teacher, and I’d love to learn.” His friendly conversation going against every thought in his mind. Why bother with her? Why bother with the people pleasing facade? She’d been as good as dead since the moment her name was read into that microphone. Yet here he was, doing the best he could to make her forget the trouble heading her way; his out of character actions surprising even himself.

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The Jail Chronicles

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“Really?” The cop drawled, expression disbelieving. Nathaniel’s acting was impressive, he had to admit, but John had been there when the man was throwing himself against the car door and tearing his wrists raw trying to get to Eliza. “Look, Nathaniel. I’ll show you respect if you show me some. Don’t lie to me and I won’t lie to you. What is she really? Your kid? Your lover? Both, maybe?” Fucked up, but still a possibility.

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“I’m sure your respect will treat me great as you lock me behind bars.” His mask failing to falter in the slightest. “I don’t like people touching my things. That woman on the floor you found, she got what was coming to her. Breaking and entering is also a crime, correct?” A dry laugh passed his lips as he shook his head softly. “I told you she was my prisoner. Has been for a while, in fact.” A shrug rolled off his shoulders. “I’m not sure what else I could say for you to believe me, officer.”

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The Worst Game

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“Maybe I’ll win and I’ll get to come there and be your neighbor. Wouldn’t that be nice? I’ve been told I make really good cookies.” It was a nice thing to entertain, even if the likelihood of actually making it back was little to none. She was probably going to die very very soon, even if the genuinely sweet smile that found its way back onto her face told a different story; if she was going to die, she didn’t want to do it thinking of all the pain that was to come.

Eliza gave a small nod, thinking about her brother. Her parents hadn’t been the same after losing him, but she couldn’t blame them. The loss had changed her as well, though it had mostly served to make her all the more kind and gentle. “Thank you. I miss him a lot.” She still remembered how he died, his bleeding skull broadcast to every district after another tribute had taken a rock to his head in a panic.

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“That would be nice.” He lied with a disarming smile. The chances of her winning were slim to none, and their distract already felt like they were batting a thousand. It was cruel, really, to even entertain the idea in her head, but this young woman was about to go through hell and anything he could do to make it less terrible was going to be done. “It’ll be a nice change of pace from my constantly burned cooking.”

He was brave. He died with dignity. Constant lies whispered in his ear to tell the families of lost tributes. Truth was, they had no chance, and no amount of bullshit was going to honor their meaningless deaths. Snow had made it a point to make a show of it; to keep everyone in line. Those lies were told all over the districts for a little over forty years, and he wasn’t going to add to the list.

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The Jail Chronicles

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Though it didn’t show on his face, the detective was glad to have the girl’s name. She showed up in no records and she had no form of identification on her and given her rather hysterical state, she wasn’t really willing to answer a lot of questions. Nathaniel, however, seemed to be a much better candidate for interrogation. As terrifyingly psychotic as he obviously was, he had a soft spot for the blonde and that could be manipulated.

“That depends. Who is she to you? Seemed to be like she was a lot more of an accomplice than a prisoner.” That much was obvious from the way they had both screamed so desperately for each other.

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“My prisoner.” His tone was unwavering, no emotion on his face. The moments between their capture and waiting to be interrogated had allowed him to calm slightly. There was only one way to play this and keep Eliza safe, and Nathaniel had been an actor playing a part his whole life. Lights, camera, action.

“She’s not very stable, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. Made it easy to kidnap her.” His dead eyes staring directly into the detective’s.

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The Worst Game

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Eliza jumped slightly as the sound of a cleared through cut through day dreams where she was someone freer than she was now. They were nice, but even she knew that they would have no place in a game where even a moment of faltered concentration could mean certain death. She figured she should have made peace with it all already, but it was more difficult than she had expected to come to terms with her likely death.

“I’m Eliza, but you…already knew that.” A soft laugh, not forced but not truly enthusiastic either. “I’ve seen you before, mostly on the TV. I don’t really go anywhere near the Victor’s Village. It’s all too fancy for me there.” Her family had always been poor, but there was no doubt that they were happy nonetheless. Her brother had been selected the year previously, but he had been killed at the Cornucopia. “Will was my brother, you know? I guess there’s only one of us left now that I’ve been picked.”

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Nathaniel’s eyes slowly fell to the floor. The fact that nearly all of the girls and boys he’d mentored in the past never made it far into the games didn’t seem to hit him as hard as it should. Maybe it was the lack of emotional connection in his past; the only relationships he had were forced on his part. The wiring in his mind disconnecting him from others, but a small wave of sympathy washed over him when he looked at the blonde.

“Not many do,” he shrugged, “very quiet there.” To be honest, he preferred it that way. Less interaction meant less of his friendly facade. “I’m sorry to hear that, Will was a good kid.” He offered a small and somewhat apologetic smile. “Being an only child, I never got to experience the bond of a sibling, but I’m sure it’s a tough thing to lose.”

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The Jail Chronicles

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Eliza screamed for hours, even after they had driven her away and put her in a holding cell as far away from Nathaniel as they could manage. She screamed and fought and sobbed until her small body finally gave up on her, causing her to finally slip into unconsciousness on the uncomfortable cot in the cell. Though she was far from aware of it, she was lucky that her exhaustion left her dreams empty; if they had not been so, there was no doubt that they would have been filled with nightmares to rival any horror movie.

It wasn’t until after the girl fell silent that the officers went to the man–Nathaniel Howl, as they had been informed–and brought him from his cell into an interrogation room. His wounds had been treated as well as he would allow and as he was brought into the room, his wrists were chained down to the table to prevent any violent outbursts like they had seen while he was in the car. 

“So, Nathaniel. What do you have to say for yourself?”

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No one looked him in the eye. Perhaps they were scared and lacked the cojones to stare now a man they just found hovering over a half chopped up decease woman, and who could blame them? It didn’t matter if anyone actually did, Nathaniel’s returning glance would have been completely empty. He was drained, gone was the people pleasing facade he always wore, and in it’s place was the shell of a broken man.

He sat in a small interrogation room, his entire body as still as a statue. The gauze around his wrists rubbed against the metal handcuffs as the wounds he obtained in the car lightly throbbed, the adrenaline of it all slowly fading. A detective made their way into the room after a few minutes, Nathaniel’s eyes the only body part of his to move as they followed his new visitor.

There were only two words he had to say for himself. “Where’s Eliza?”

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The Worst Game

If there was one word to describe the tiny blonde girl that stood in front of the cameras with shaking hands and tears streaming silently down her cheeks, perhaps it would have been delicate. It was not that she was not bold–her smile and her perpetual rambling would always prove that–but instead that she was infinitely breakable, a porcelain doll meant for a world far kinder than that which now had damned her to near certain death at the hands of twenty-three others who were no more glad to be selected than herself.

She hadn’t been able to stop the flow of tears as she said goodbye to her family, despite how she tried to assure them that things would be alright. Each of them knew that Eliza was not fit for fighting and that the words they spoke then would likely be their last. It wasn’t until she got on the train after speaking with her fellow tribute that she managed to stop crying. She found herself curled up in one of the lavish seats, dirty blonde hair pushed back out of her face as she stared out the window as they left the only home she had ever known.

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Nathaniel sat on the stage, just as he did every year, as one of the capital’s minions tried to make a party of this year’s reaping. His eyes wandered from left to right as they surveyed the crowd, looking for anyone who might actually win. “Eliza Winnick.” His light brown orbs landed on a petite girl as she made her way on stage. He let a small sigh of frustration escape his lips, anyone who looked at her could tell she wasn’t a winner; she was a child just waiting to break.

The train had slowly pulled it’s way from the station heading to the capitol as Nathaniel thought it best to meet the tributes whose lives he’d now be accountable for. He found the male tribute first, small conversation revealed that he didn’t have much of a chance; too homegrown, too kind. 

A few train cars away, he’d finally found the young blonde as she stared silently out of the window. He drew in a sharp breath, preparing himself, before clearing his throat to grab her attention. “I’m Nathaniel.” He spoke in an apologetic tone. “And I’ll be your mentor for the games.”

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The Jail Chronicles

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Attempts were made to communicate with her and to ask her whether she was his partner or his victim, but there was nothing that strangers could do to cut through her violent hysteria. It was the other side to her insanity, the part that not even Nathaniel had seen. It was the part that refused to confront reality, the part that desperately clung to her fantasy world like a drowning woman held onto a life vest. It was screaming and tears running down blood soaked cheeks and it was kicking and fighting and blue eyes locking onto the one person she saw as a true anchor. He was her world and without him, everything would crumble.

The hands on her were rough, too rough for delicate skin as they tried to keep her restrained and she could already feel bruises spreading. Her dress caught on the belt of one of the officers holding her and ripped, only serving to increase her fervor. Though small, she had no regard for herself and thus fought with a wild sort of strength that forced them to bring her to the ground, cuffing her flailing arms behind her back as she cried out for Nathaniel. Lifting her up, they forced her into a cop car near the one holding her love, closing the door quickly and leaving her to sob as they tried to figure out what to do.

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Eliza had always worn this sense of peace; whether she be extremely happy or that calm was completely misplaced, he’d never seen otherwise. Well, until now. The overwhelming panic expressed through each and every action only added fuel to Nathaniel’s rage. He continued to slam against the car door with every last inch of his strength all while his babydoll screamed for dear life twenty feet away.

His brown eyes locked with hers as his entire body froze, if only for a second. The petite blonde was crazy, a fact he’d known for quite a while, but this, this was more than a little crazy. She was drowning in reality, and like anyone in that situation, she fought with everything she had to stay afloat. The male’s chest ached as he was forced to face the reality that all of this was his fault, that in order for him to have experienced the happiness and love with her, she’d have to finally snap. A fate, he decided, wasn’t worth it for her sake.

“Stop! You’re hurting her!” His fight returned as soon as she hit the ground. Fresh blood seeped through a new cut he’d managed to obtain on his forehead as it smashed against the glass, though he felt no physical pain. She was thrown every which way, like nothing more than a rag doll, as Nathaniel felt everything inside of him break. Tears of his own managed to find their way down his cheek as the realization that there was nothing he could do hit him, leaving him nothing more than a bystander as she was dragged to one of the nearby cars.

The ordeal had left him broken and his voice raw as he sat helpless in the backseat, the only sounds heard were Eliza’s muffled screams.

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The Jail Chronicles

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Eliza pressed one hand tight over her mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of her quiet crying as she heard the cops enter their home. Why did they have to show up? Why did they have to ruin everything right when she finally found some real happiness? She hated them as much as she was scared of them.

Listening to the sounds of people talking and hard footsteps on her carefully maintained – if somewhat blood stained – wood floor, the crinkle of the plastic telling her that they were close to the closet. Several voices spoke and that’s when the blonde realized that they had found Nathaniel and they were taking him away. She was losing him, even though he had promised she wouldn’t.

The thought pulled a desperate sob from her though she tried to keep quiet and suddenly the door to the closet opened up. “We’ve got some blood in here,” a strange voice called out and she pressed herself as far into the hidden area as she could. Everything was wrong and scary and all she wanted was to be back in Nathaniel’s arms.

Suddenly, the panel was pulled open and she let out a panicked scream, startling the officer that stood in front of her. “There’s a girl in here! She’s covered in blood but I don’t see any injuries.” A hand grabbed her arm and she fought, but she didn’t have the strength to resist being pulled out into the open. “No! No, no, no! Stop it!” Panic was written across her features as she was all but carried out the door.

That was when she saw Nathaniel sitting there in the back of the cop car, trapped like a violent animal. “Let him go! Please! Just let him go! He’s good!”

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Silence. Nathaniel’s eyes were glued on the door frame that was now missing it’s door. She just had to stay hidden; stay safe. The breath caught in his throat wasn’t even noticed until his brain screamed for oxygen. Anxiety. Yet another emotion he wasn’t too keen on experiencing. The mumbled voices coming from their house were indistinguishable as he waited not-so-patiently for the return of the men in uniform without Eliza.

Every ounce of energy within him coursed through his veins as he heard her pleas for them to stop. “ELIZA!” He screamed against the window as loud as his lungs would allow, the color and blood draining from his face as he saw her being carried out into the night. Concern for his own well being was thrown to the wind as he threw all of himself against the door again and again, the loud thuds leading to nothing other than grabbing the officers’ attention.

“Calm down.” The cop from before hit the window inches from Nathaniel’s face. But he wasn’t going to stop, he couldn’t. His wrists bore open sores as he wiggled in attempt to rid the cuffs, his own blood mixing with the nearly dried victim’s. “Let her go! She’s my prisoner!” His voice cracked, the desperate tone obviously indicating otherwise. But what else was he to do? Any and all efforts were exhausted in his goal to keep her safe.

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The Jail Chronicles

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Tears found their way into her eyes, a few escaping to leave streaks through the blood on her cheeks. She had to trust him. She had to believe that his promises were real and that she wouldn’t be left alone without any idea of what was to come next. Alone was the worst thing for someone as disconnected from reality as her.

“You can’t leave me alone, okay? You can’t. I don’t know what to do without you.”

Flinching at the shouts, she stole one more kiss from him before going to hide, stomach turning as the fear and panic left her trembling. The panel and the closet closed and she was all but invisible, if the subtle streaks of blood were missed by anyone looking. 

[bloodyreturned-blog]

She was shaking. The pain tearing at his heart made him ponder that maybe he was lucky before, when he felt nothing, because it order to experience true love you also had to accept the unbearable pain that came with it. He knew she was right; how would she survive on her own? He would figure out who to call when he got to the big house, now he just had to make she didn’t join him.

He gave a stern nod, eyes shuttering closed as she kissed him goodbye before they felt insanely bare, her petite body scurrying into hiding. “We’re coming in!” Yells were followed by one or two bangs before the door smashed open, several men in Kevlar vests pointed their weapons at his chest. Nathaniel glanced down momentarily, taking in his last glance of his last victim before raising his hands above his head.

The older male remained silent as they proceeded to cuff him and led his past the now open hole where the door used to reside, making their way to one of the police cars. “Johnson, make sure he was alone!” The cop behind him called out as Nathaniel’s eyes widened in fear.

“I’m alone.” He spoke it a nonchalant tone as the shorter man lowered his head to fit him inside the backseat.

“We’re just gonna make sure.” The cop retorted with a coy smirk.