Your secrets keep you sick, but your lies keep you alive.

I haven't written anything in a little while but have recently started too again, here's one of my newer pieces of writing, a short story. It's a little bit graphic, kind of based it in the 'Dexter' category. Hope you enjoy. - Tee 

The sound of breaking glass stops him, but it is too late. As Scott’s black haze lifts he is faced with a slaughterous and sanguinary sight. He is filled with speechless horror, like a man out of his senses. As his crimson covered hands rise to his head, the look of guilt and remorse cover his face. Slight weeping begins to burst from his being as he falls to his knees he begins to meagerly rock back and forth. In a blank filled gaze he caresses Kate’s lifeless face; a steady inhale and deep exhale fill the room covering the incessant hum of classical music playing in the next room over.

s the light dissolves into darkness a slight tremble sends an awakening shiver down Scott’s spine; making him jump to his feet. He feels a slight vibrating in his back pocket to where he then reaches and pulls out a cell phone which reads, ‘8 Missed Calls, 3 Unread Messages.’ A state of panic fades across his face as the moonlight covers his features, revealing almost all of his dark side. He walks over to the window and peers out into the light hue of lighting pollution that softens the murky sky; he looks over his left shoulder and glances at the bloodied mess and the now cold and pale body that is spread across his living room floor. While clearing his throat a mumble of hushed words escape Scott’s lips, “What have I done?” are uttered into the silent room.

Adrenaline kicks in and shifts into over drive, the darkness finally sucks Scott in as he wrestles with his thoughts, but once again he becomes trapped in a black haze. He quickly grabs the blood wrangled blanket and wraps the limp, pale girl from head to toe, heaves her over his steadied shoulders and carries her down the stairs. 

Slamming the car trunk Scott glances in all directions so not to be caught, he begins to steady his breathe, then seats himself in the front, and holds the steering wheel. His head is bowed down and a whisper protrudes from what seemed to be nowhere, “I can do this, it’s going to be OK, it’s fine, I didn’t do anything wrong,” he softly states, as he restores his confidence. The car engine starts, and Scott looks up glancing directly into the review mirror which is depicting a perfect picture of the trunk where her body lies. His body freezes, like a glacier through winter, only to be seconds, but feels to be a millennia.

With the town behind him Scott begins to feel the pressure ease, and with the rising sun now covering the hood of the car he reaches for his aviators and places them upon his face and gives an almost boastful and pride filled smirk. But his head is still spinning with the blurry visions of his previous misdemeanors. The thoughts of all the other populace who had once lain in the trunk of his car made him feel proud for what others would begin to see as a vulgar act upon man. But the fact of bludgeoning persons to death was not his main satisfaction, but that he had gotten away with it many times before, and will get away with it just one more time.

As the car is brought to a halt the sun beams across Scott’s face, he opens the door, and blasts the radio to its fullest capacity, then grabbing a cigarette from his left front pocket removes himself from the car and slams the door. He removes his aviators and holds his face and head back letting the sun stream across his face, seemingly sunkissed, his arms are held out as he begins to snicker and shout, ‘Out here, no one can hear you scream.’

As he drags his feet across the sand bank he recoils back to the trunk and steadily opens it just to have one last glimpse of the girls face. A tear trickles down Scott’s face, but this time is not like the others, he actually feels something, something he wished he didn’t; shame, guilt, love and above all hatred, not for his love, but for himself. He slams the trunk shut tight while holding back any emotion he is supposed to feel and swiftly moves towards the front of the car. Removing his duffel bag, cigarettes and aviators he peers around for a heavy rock, about a metre away one sits, it’s perfectly weighted and will do just fine to sit upon the acceleration. He places the rock in the car, and places the hand brake to drive. The car moves forward and is sucked into the vast nothingness of the river bed.

The breeze is fresh and a westerly wind races past Scott, his red, blue and white flannel shirt crisscrosses behind him as he glances behind back to see what traffic he is able to hail down but all he can see is two head lights and a mirage of summer breezes and sand picks up from the ground and thrusts upon him. 

The car slows, and beeps, two young women are seated in the front. Blonde hair, blue eyes and perfect features, they both momentary look at each other and look back to Scott, ‘Do you need a ride, we have plenty of room?’ Scott gleefully responds, ‘Sure,’ his flirtatious reply with a cheeky grin upon his face makes his actions all the more trustworthy but all the process of trust has gone, it's replaced with violent outbursts, and shattering but forcibly pursuing the degrading actions that swirl through Scotts' mind. With every minute passing Scott educates himself about the young women, but they never learn about him, with a deadly silence the driver quickly rears the conversation back to Scott, “So, what are you doing out this far anyway?” As both girls stare blankly towards him, nothing but an awkward silence is felt until a eery and unexpected reply is finally spoken, “Your secrets keep you sick, but your lies keep you alive.” The girls gaze confused, as Scott pulls a knife from his duffel bag, their confusion turns to fear, their words are inescapable and the slash across their necks reveal an inner self.

The car comes to a halt, a creaking is heard as Scott steps out the back door and slams it shut, the sound it piercing like a door that's never been oiled. He steps away, and raises his aviators to his eyes, the sun is powerful. He beings to walks along the winding roads, only to meet his next victim. As the body count heightens, Scotts confidence follows even as an emptiness fills his being he stands tall and continues to walk. His thought process lessens as a black haze fills his mind, it becomes mind dulling and boring as the final though caresses his sanity. 

A knife, and an insane man. Crimson caresses the ground, moving around Scotts body, death finally meets the damned, as Scott finally forfeits his sanity and meets serenity.