for / @ncvermxre
participants / blair & ashley!
story / intensity by dean koontz but our version. blair just murdered ashley's friend/the friend's whole family, not knowing that ashley was even in the house when he did it. an hour or so later, he's pulled off to get gas, only to commit another murder and suddenly realize that ashley unbeknownst to him had snuck onto his rv. cat-and-mouse insanity ensues.
setting / blair's personal murder-mobile, parked at a gas station somewhere in the southwestern united states!
blair’s nails tapped on the gas station clerk’s counter. the clerk, for his part, looked equally annoyed as he put thirty on gas pump three. ever since blair had committed his life to murdering anyone he felt like, it was harder and harder to play normal. he had spent twenty-odd years pretending to be the perfect southern gentleman, hating every second of it. now that he discovered his true purpose, each time it became more difficult to put on that friendly mask. to pretend he wasn’t thinking about putting a hole into the face of anyone that looked at him. even now, his nails weren’t tapping because he was impatient (well, he was, but not for the gas) but to keep himself from grabbing his pistol out of his waistband or taking his switchblade out of his pocket. the clerk finally returned his change and blair’s hand instantly shot out to grab the clerk’s wrist. “you’re going to give me everything in that drawer, ain’t ya’?”
of course there was some tussling over the money, but blair won the fight, evident in the clerk’s body on the floor and all the cash stuffed down his jeans. he took his time with the kill and its aftermath, making sure to enter the back office and destroying the surveillance camera monitor before he left with a beer and bag of cheetos in hand. just in case. it was only when he was returning to his rv that he noticed something out of the ordinary. (because, yes, stealing and killing gas station clerks was normal as the sun rising in the morning.) from the entrance of the gas station, now blackened because he shot out all the overhead lights, he saw something move about his rv. no, not something. it was someone. no one ever entered his rv alive, not unless blair invited them in, and then they wouldn't be alive for much longer.
there were several ways he could play this. he could ignore it, see how long they could stay hidden and make a little game of it. or, he could confront them now and take care of the problem before it even began. of course, the latter just seemed too boring. it did occur to him that maybe he was hallucinating it all—wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last—but why ruin the mystery by trying to prove it one way or the other? no, blair decided, he wanted to see where this would go. getting into the rv, he moved about the vehicle, putting things away until he got to the bedroom in the back. opening the accordion door, he found no intruder, but there were a few places they could hide. instead, blair sighed heavily before sitting down on the bed and rolling the stiffness out of his neck. he couldn’t hide his smirk as he listened for any type of movement, an intake of breath, any proof of life.
