Page 12 of The Moments You Miss
“I-I’m so sorry,” Leyla stutters out as I run my hand through her hair, trying to calm her even further. Leyla’s body shakes as the tremors of anxiety run through her.
“Cherry, please, I need you to breathe.”
Her breaths are heavy and uneven, but when she looks away and not at me, my entire heart shatters.
“Ley,” I grab her chin and force her to look at me. “Breathe in,” she matches my breaths. “Eyes on me. Good. That’s my good girl.” My hand runs through her hair, as we continue to calm her breaths down.
Leyla attempts to pull away, and starts mumbling something about being fine, and some other bullshit excuse, but I’m not having any of it.
“Nope!” I pop the‘p’in the word dramatically, trying to distract her. “None of that,” I say as I gently push her away from my body so I can look at her directly. “You ready to talk about what the hell is going on? ‘Cause a reaction like that doesn’t just happen from a one-time occurrence.”
Leyla purses her lips and rolls her neck before she looks at me. “I’ve gotten them every year since my parents were killed.” Her face is pale when she looks at me, little tremors running through her hands. “This is the second one this week, and I just… I can handle one, and it’s just that it’s normally in public you know? This is at my home– my–”
“Your safe place, I get it.” I sit back on the couch as she keeps her head down, not really making eye contact with me while she stays sitting on the floor.
“Exactly. I-I’m still really sorry. I bet this wasn’t how you expected tonight to go.” Leyla is still shaking as she speaks. I wrap my arms around her as I shake my head.
“I had no expectations, Cherry. This was just two friends catching up. My only concern right now is making sure you can breathe.” My arms instinctively tighten around her and I’m more than happy to just sit here with her while she comes down from her panic attack. “How about this: I will make you some tea, you seem like the type of girl who likes tea, and we can just sit here and watch a movie okay?”
The slightest nod from her has me gently letting go of her and helping her up to the couch before I walk into her kitchen, fill the tea kettle, and pull a mug from her cabinets. Minutes later, a steaming cup of tea is in her hands, I’ve grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and I’m sitting back down on the couch. I’m just far enoughaway to give her personal space, but in a moment she’s scooting this way and leaning against me as I wrap my arms around her.
“Is this okay?” Her voice is honestly too quiet for my own liking, and it makes my blood boil that someone is out there harassingmyLeyla, leaving her in such a state.
“Cherry, listen to me, okay? All of this? It’s not okay that it’s happening to you, and in no way is it okay that it’s bothering you so bad.” I gently give her another little squeeze. “I am here as someone for you. I am more than okay with you laying up against me. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to know that I’m your friend, and you are safe.”
I visibly watch her as her shoulders fall, the tension releasing as she lays her body against mine. She lets out a deep breath and we watch a movie. Her hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes wet with emotion, pink sitting on her cheeks. She looks so fucking small in this moment, she looks like she could just keep falling apart, her body vibrates with unspent adrenaline.
Chapter 9
Dead Weight
The Whispering Killer
David West, 52, 4 Women Murdered.
I pull out the folder from its’ hiding spot in the hole in the wall, along with all of the other files on my list. This is always my favorite part. I’ve spent the last couple of days getting as much information on him as I could: locations, evidence, confessions, anything I possibly can to give the family of his victims a bit of closure. Just one word that could make the already horrific event they’re living any easier. Letting the families and friends at least know they no longer have to live in fear, or wonder if they themselves are next.
I have no regrets. Not one.
As I flick the light switch on, the hum of the lights and its dim radiance fills the room. The man sitting in the middle of the room whimpers through his cloth gag; one that I’ve not bothered to change since I stuffed it into his mouth over seventy-two hours ago.I put the file down on my desk. My attention is set on the sack of shit sitting in my basement, tied up and gagged. A tight laugh escapes my lips as a thought occurs to me;I really need to see my therapist.In these situations, I feel nothing good. Only an ever-present rage that simmers through my body.
“What’s that? You’re justsoexcited to see me?“ I growl to the perverted monster sitting in the chair, his face barely recognizable at this point. I’m shocked that the man is still alive. A wicked smile grows on my face as I roll out my tools needed for the next bit of torture that I’m set to deal to him. My fingers dance over the surgical, clean instruments, biting my lower lip as I smirk towards David.
“Oh, darling David. I feel as though we’ve grown so close these past few days, don’t you? You make what I have to do next, so much harder!” The lie rolls off my tongue in a saccharine sweet lullaby.
The knife in my hand reflects the light and David flinches back. He screams and thrashes as the smell of urine reaches my nose. I walk towards the man, and the sweet sounds of what I can only assume are pleas for his life fill the space. I adjust my balaclava as I start the video camera and circle David like a lion going in for their kill.
“Howpathetic. Just like the pathetic waste of life you are,”I hiss his direction, modulating my voice for the stream, as the knife in my hand points towards his cock. I waste no time pushing it down, just hard enough to hear the ripping of his filth ridden pants.
I grin as the adrenaline flows through my body, I roll my shoulders and head to crack my joints, my eyes connecting with David’s. His body thrashes with what little energy he has left, whichtruly isn’t much after three days of torture. I lean down and remove the man’s pants with my gloved hands, and grin towards the camera. Which, luckily, doesn’t show below the man’s waist.
“David West here decided he was going to rape and kill four women, for fun. We know we can’t have that, now, can we?!” I turn away from David, a smile hides beneath my mask as I turn back to his shivering body. With one swift motion I press the knife into the man’s cock again and slice it off. Blood begins spurting as his cock rolls to the floor. David’s anguished screams echo through the basement. I grin as he cries out in utter pain.
I lift my knife, hold it to his neck, and slash quickly. There’s no fight left in him. A gurgle escapes as David struggles to breathe before finally falling silent. The light in his eyes fades into a vacant stare that burrows into the darkness surrounding us. David’s body goes limp, and the distant sound of blood dripping slows, telling me that he’s dead. I revel in the silence, savoring the thrill of my kill.
I turn to the camera, an unnatural tilt of my head as I walk towards it. Silence echoing all around us as I turn off the recording and begin my clean up. This is quick, this is the easy part. I have no guilt as I begin to hose off the mess. I tell myself that guilt only makes me weak— and I am not that. David West is dead, and I am the one who did it.
I put on some loud rock music as I wrap up his body and get him prepped for transport.
