Then by Ciara T
My head pounded as I stumbled through the dark alley. Hot blood ran down the side of my face, it trickled past my mouth, and the metallic smell made me gag.
“Millie!” a voice rasped from behind me, “Come on sweetie, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I forced myself forwards, my legs burning as I rounded a corner into another putrid alleyway. My breath caught in my throat as I collapsed in agony, screams of those poor defenceless girls echoed around me as a strangled cry escaped my throat.
“Millie! Come on, it won’t hurt as much as it did for the others, I promise.” He rounded the corner and grinned at the state of me. He held a knife in his left hand; it dripped with my blood and the girls before me, the girls I couldn’t save. A paralyzing agony ran down my leg as I struggled to get back up.
“Sorry I stabbed your leg.” The man laughed at me, scratching the stubble on his chin, he was quite handsome despite the circumstances (being handsome probably helped him to lure innocent girls). Short dark hair, emerald eyes and a dashing smile, he was perfect. But he was a killer, a cold-blooded murderer and he liked it. He liked having his shirt soaked in innocent teenage girls’ blood, he liked listening to their begging screams as he dragged them to the place of their death. But most of all, he loved slowly pulling them apart, ripping away their humanity. But he still wanted more.
I turned and started to run again, the pain making me feel nauseous to the point where I was sick, my nose stung at the smell. My vision blurred. I was crying, tears streamed down my blood-streaked face. I dragged myself through the blurry darkness. I refuse to die in a dirty alleyway. I could feel my consciousness slipping away, the pain almost unbearable. I tripped on an empty plastic bottle and roared in pain, thunder drowning out my desperate cries. Rain pattered around me as I lay, staring up at the black clouds rolling in overhead, lightning beams illuminated him, strolling towards me. He smiled. My eyelids felt heavy, my whole body ached with agony, blood and dirt and rain washed over me. I was ready. Ready to go. My eyes fluttered closed and the excruciating pain vanished. All that was left was darkness.
Megan. My perfect little angel sat next to me, grinning her toothless grin. She was only two, I had her when I was 16 and she was the best thing that ever happened to me. I held her close, knowing that this was my last chance and started to cry. Her face contorted into sadness as she watched me. No! No! Mummy! Don’t leave me! No! She began to scream at me, crying and roaring. I’m sorry! I began to scream with her, it wasn’t fair, I couldn’t leave her. She started to fade away. Her begging cries became an echo, her agonized face blurred, her cute toothless smile. Gone.
My eyes opened slowly and were greeted by a dark fluorescent light. There was a chainsaw, it was roaring so loudly. Leather belts bound me to a bloody wooden table. A small worktop stood in the corner of the room, holding multiple blood-stained tools. The room smelt strongly of bleach and rosemary, it stung my nose. The room was dark and only a single light bulb hung from the ceiling. I knew that room, I had escaped that room once before, after a mission gone wrong. A man. It was him. He stood over me, flashing his tinted yellow teeth, he held a large rusty chainsaw in both hands. My lips felt dry against the cloth he had wrapped around my mouth, I attempted to speak but it came out muffled and weak. My head hurt, my body ached, my leg…I couldn’t move it. I lifted my head to look down at my leg. I felt my cheeks grow hot and heard my screams echo; my leg sat lifeless and pale. I looked again at the chainsaw and saw that it was drenched in a dark scarlet liquid. He started the chainsaw, sending flecks of blood everywhere. He brought it down, closer and closer to my right arm.
A scream echoed through the small gloomy room, my throat felt raw as I cried for help, for mercy. I begged him and I regret it. He dragged the chainsaw away from my arm as I breathed heavily, tears dripped silently down my face.
“Fine!” He roared, “You don’t want the chainsaw? Let’s find something more suited to your liking, Detective Millie, agent of the NSS! NSS, National Secret Service, if you’re smart enough to track me down then I guess you know which tools would be the best to torture you! The other girls just gave up, accepted their fate, but you just dare to pester me!”
I flinched hard as his fist drove into the brick wall and he shouted in anguish. When he drew his fist away blood was visible on his bare knuckles, it flowed down his hand and onto the floor, making a small stain of crimson. He laughed and started rummaging through the tools on the small workbench. He delicately selected a sharp knife, slightly curved at the tip. His smile was menacing as he began to clean the knife with an ivory handkerchief.
“You’re acting as if you don’t know what this feels like,” he said, staring straight at her, “the look in their eyes as it happens, the begging and screaming, the uncontrollable desire to do more. The unquenchable thirst for innocent blood.”
I struggled against the restraints, memories hitting me like a ton of bricks. The screams, the begging, the blood and tears. The thrill of the chase and the satisfaction when it’s over. The fear dripping off them as they fell still and cold. I shook my head violently. That wasn’t me. Not anymore.
“You couldn’t stop. We both know it, you were obsessed. You were a different person after though, so full of resent and self-loathing but you couldn’t stop yourself,” He shrugged as if human life had no meaning to him, “Which is why you killed her, tortured her…the love of my life, my absolute reason for being. She’s gone and it’s your fault! So, I’m going to give you what you deserve!”
I shook hard as he advanced, my hands trembling despite the restraints. He had a wild look in his eyes, his hands shook, his smile never wavered and yet he looked just as afraid as me. So, when he lowered the curved knife and a kaleidoscope of tears blurred my vision and the razor edge penetrated my tanned skin, I didn’t struggle or fight, I just listened to my echoing screams as blood trickled down to the concrete floor. When my final strand of life began to slip away, I uttered one last word.
Megan…