I woke up to the harsh sound of my alarm ringing right next to my ears.
I sat up straight, yawning from the lack of sleep. I had fallen asleep writing the last chapter of my novel last night. Right… I need to complete that…
Swinging my legs over the bed, I get off, nearly slipping as I do so, on a random piece of underwear lying around.
I wrinkle my nose as I smell the house. It smells like cup noodles and a shut-in. Classics.
My girlfriend gave me the dip a month ago, and my mental state has been unstable ever since.
I sit down on the sofa, a donut in my mouth as I wait for my PC to boot up.
Right… I should properly Introduce myself first. Basics of basics while communicating...
Ahem.
I am Alex Pearson, a 26 year old guy living in his parent's house as a shut in. I'm a novel writer, specializing in mystery and thriller. Although the number of books I've written can be counted on one hand, I make enough to scrape by. Out of the four books I have on my profile, my latest book, 'Greaves' is on a roll and one of the most trending books on the Novelist platform, a world-wide accepted and UN accredited platform for novel writers.
*Ding!*
Ahh! That must be the PC. Story time!
I sit down in front of the monitor, logging in and opening the mail. As expected, I was met with a barrage. A barrage of hate, and rage mail. Looks like the readers got the hint huh.
Greaves is a story about a rookie detective who sets out to reopen cold cases of the past and solve them in an effort to gain experience and achievements. I mean, murder cases aren't something you see everyday… anyways, so this guy solves two cases successfully, closing them permanently and recieving recognition from his superiors. Now, here's the twist. Turns out, his rapid achievements make the corrupt higher ups uncomfortable and they set out to end his career. At the same time the enemies he has made while solving those two cases are actually a part of a psychopathic group. Hence, he ended up on both hit lists. Poor guy. And now, I plan on ending the story with a abrupt ending. The breakup did a number on me and the quality of my chapters in the last month was deteriorating. Hence, I decided to finish the damn thing and start a new one.
I sigh as stare at all the mail I've received, already feeling the headache.
Fuck. I'll need a coffee to proceed.
I get up and head to the kitchen to grab a quick mug and some biscuits.
*Creak*
Eh? What was that?
*Creeaak…*
I freeze. That… that's my floorboards creaking. Ain't no way mistaking that sound.
I look down at the tiles of the kitchens. So… it wasn't me… that means…
*Gulp…*
I swallow, hard, as I grab the closest thing I can. A frying pan…
I step out of the kitchen, quietly moving to the bedroom.
The shadows dance around in my sight despite it being day. But I pay no attention to it.
No one…? I swivel my head, checking the room. Nothing in sight.
I sigh, letting my guard down.
Then I see it. The window. Slightly open.
I freeze, as I feel a gaze on my back. The hairs on my arms rise in fear.
I turn around swiftly, swinging my pan.
Nothing. Nothing but air.
This… what is wrong with me…?
*Pat*
My heart stops. Sweat rains down from my forehead as I look at my shoulder.
A hand. A Fucking hand…
Ah… I'm dead, arn't I?
I try to scream, but the hand clamps around my mouth, and something cold grazes my throat.
Heavy breathing rings in my ears as the assailant leans closer and… sniffs? Wtf? A pervert?
"Ahh… the sweet sweet smell of fear… intoxicating, isn't it?" His voice rings out near my ear, each word accompanied by a slight lisp.
I don't dare to move, but my body doesn't listen. I elbow him and move out of his grasp, lunging for the bedroom door.
A hear a growl and rapid footsteps behind me as I yank it open and rush out straight towards the main door. But alas, life is a cruel thing. So is luck. I slip on another one of my underwear's…
Bloody hell. I'm dead.
*thud*
I fall face first, hitting my chin square on the floor. I enter a daze. Fuck. No wonder boxers aim for the chin. It's a fucking weak point alright.
*bang!*
The man kicks me in the stomach, flipping me over and then stomping all over me.
Finally! I get to see his face! I'm so happy! (I'm not).
The man is hideous, to say the least. Scar and stitches cover every inch of exposed skin. His left ear is half gone and is missing quite a few teeth. This clothes were muddy and covered in soot.
"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU! how dare you try to run away! Do you not like me?! Am I not enough?!" He roars as he rains down blow after blow.
Oh great. A psychopath. Buddy I met you five seconds ago. Wtf do you mean do I not like you?! Your trying to kill me man. Obviously I'll try to run!
Before I could continue berating him in my mind, a kick landed on my face, specifically the chin, knocking me out.
…
I woke up to pain. A lot of pain. My body was wrecked so much that I couldn't feel anything. It was like I got bench pressed by a train.
I looked down at myself. I was tied up. To my work chair, Hands on the armrests, feet to the legs of the chair, and head to the head rest. Classic hostage situation.
I looked around. I was in my bedroom. From out of the window I could see the setting sun cast numerous shadows on everything in the room. Hah… fuck. It was sooooo messy. And speaking of messy, where is the underwear? I swear, if I survive this, the first thing I'm doing is burning that piece of shi-
*Squelch!*
My thoughts came to an abrupt end as I felt something pierce my hand. A feral scream tore through my throat as I howled in pain.
Blinking back the tears, I looked down to find the guy on his knees, looking up at me with an innocent expression. One hand clutched the knife which was now In my hand.
*squelch.*
"Does it hurt?" He asked innocently as he pulled the knife out.
I shook my head as I cried out. "YES! YES! IT HURTS! AHHH! STOP! DON'T! NOOO!"
*Squelch!*
He impaled my other hand, ignoring my pleas.
"Does it hurt now?" He asked again.
"AHHH!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!! IT DOES! PLEASE STOP!"
But he didn't listen. He kept stabbing, pulling out, then stabbing, over and over until I was bleeding from everywhere. And throughout all this, the man kept clapping with glee, giggling like a child as he occasionally licked the blood off his knife before continuing.
At this point, I was beyond caring. I wanted to die. But the damn guy won't let me! He keeps toying! END MY MISERY, DAMN IT!
But that was one thing. The other annoying thing was why my neighbors weren't reacting to my screams. Usually when I watch movies late into the night, they are the one who come bargeing in, scolding me and stuff. But now? When I truly need the help? THEY GO SILENT MODE?!?!
"Worried about the woman next door?" The man asks suddenly. Stopping his stab mid motion and letting it hover over my thigh.
I look at him, but say nothing. My body is shaking from fear pain and whatnot.
"I killed them." He suddenly says.
My blood runs cold.
"I killed them and the others in this building. Pretty fun, you know. I mean, you should have expected this when you decided to live in such a dilapidated building on the edge of the city. Plus, only 8 apartments are actually rented. So thought I'll clear the entire building. Coz why not?" He says casually while I stay there in a trance, trying to digest the information.
He… killed everyone…? In the building…? Wha-
*Squelch!*
"AHHHHH!!!"
And so the torture continues for who knows how long. I pass out and then jolt awake to pain, and then pass out again, creating a vicious cycle.
The crazy guy bandages me up occasionally, before sleeping. Then, next morning, he tears striaght into me. Again.
Time passes. I don't know how long. I don't remember. Three days? Four days? How has no one found out about this mass killing? Pretty sure the other tenants of the building have families and shit. Why hasn't anyone come? Help me. Help me!!
Before I knew it, I was praying and screaming and yelling and pleading for it to end. But it never did. The bastard even brought the other bodies into the bedroom to make a 'show' out of what he called, pin cushion. Me.
The sight and smell made me gag and puke. But nothing came out. There was nothing to puke out. At all. Not even water. Plus, even if I wanted to puke, I wouldn't be able to do so properly. All of my muscles were cut, my tendons destroyed and almost nothing could move anymore.
More time passed, stuff happened, blah blah.
Long story short, I died.
How did I die? I don't remember.
The only thing I remember is choking on my own blood with a knife sticking out of my throat. That and me praying to god to end my misery.