"Yes, Mom, I understand. James is sleeping." Abby spoke as she swiftly moved around her bedroom, cleaning James's mess as he slept in the middle of the bed, too big for him, barricaded with pillows. James was five years old now. Five years of freedom for Abby.
"Abby, come back home. Do you hear the news? The city is not safe for you and James!" Abby's mother cried out through the speaker.
Abby rolled her eyes. "Come back where? To a place where everyone keeps on reminding me I'm a divorcee? In a society where divorcees are called 'ungrateful wives'? Where you and Dad keep on telling me how wrong my decision of walking out was? I'm fine here, Mom."
"That's not it, my daughter. Think about James. How can you stay out there like this when there's a killer roaming around the city?" Abby's mother asked, her voice convincing.
"Mom. The murders stopped a month ago.
The killer won't just appear at my door because I live alone with my son. Out of all these people, why do you think I'll be the one in danger when there's actually nothing to worry about!" Abby argued, picking up James's toys.
"But Abby, you should be cautious! You are a mother now. You can't--" Abby's mother paused as she heard Abby's doorbell. "Who is it? At this hour?"
"Chill, Mom, it's pizza. I'll talk to you later, bye." Abby hung up and threw her phone on the bed near James's feet. She walked out of the bedroom, closed the door, and reached for the main door beside the bedroom. She opened the door, expecting to be greeted by the casual pizza guy's enthusiasm.
The enthusiasm never came. The pizza guy didn't show up. It wasn't the pizza guy. It was a man standing in front of her, his face hidden behind his hoodie. Black hoodie, black sweats, his hair hidden his eyes. Abby's eyes trailed down to something that glistened in the dim light of the stairway. His hand, crimson red. Red dripping. Blood dripping.
Abby's brain short-circuited. The news of a serial killer, going by the name Sickick, flashed red in her head. She's not safe. James is right in the next room. Abby, with the speed of light, tried closing the door shut-- but before she could close it, she was met by great force that had her flying across the room. Her back hit the dining table, just across the main door, as the door slammed against the wall with a thud. Abby's heartbeat accelerated. She looked at the man slowly walking in to her home. He closed the door behind him with his other hand. Then looked back at Abby; she was frozen in one spot.
"You should check before opening the door." He motioned toward the locked door behind him, his eyes boringly looking at her as if examining a lab rat. "The city's not safe lately." He muttered, almost to himself, before the side of his lips slightly tilted up. If Abby wasn't so self-aware of the sudden adrenaline rush going up and down her body, she probably would've missed it.
Abby gulped a lump down her throat, trying to find her voice -- she ruled boardrooms with that voice. Now it was gone. He could be the killer-- he could be Sickick.
"What do you want?" Abby tried sounding brave.
The guy tilted his head. "What everyone wants." He murmured, almost a whisper. "Company."
"You chose the wrong place." Abby tried reasoning, sticking to her previous spot.
"Oh." The guy didn't laugh. He just stared. He slowly pulled down his hood.
His eyes looked past Abby, at the dining table where James's school bag sat. The bag Abby had happily brought for her son. "I picked just right."
Abby gulped. "Look, it doesn't need to get messy. Just leave, and I'll pretend you never came."
The guy ignored her completely, lifting his bloodied hand. He looked down at it, examining the blood. Then he slowly looked up. "I need to wash."
The washroom was just beside the bedroom James slept in. She couldn't let him use that. He can't find out about James, if he already hasn't.
"The-- the sink is broken." Abby said in a rush, tasting the lie on her own tongue.
The guy stared, then made a sound as light as a scoff. "You know." He looked around the living room. "People are terrible liars when afraid."
"I'm not lying." Abby defended. Her voice grew weak as the lump in her throat grew.
"So, you admit that you are afraid." He didn't look at Abby. His eyes were now stuck to the coffee table at his left.
Abby couldn't find her voice. There's a bloody-handed stranger in her living room, and the calmness in his voice scares her.
"Look, just.. just use the guestroom's bathroom and leave." Abby suggested.
He looked up at her. "Where is that?"
Abby motioned toward her left, just past the bedroom James was in. The guy walked there. Once the guest bedroom's door clicked, Abby let out a breath she didn't remember holding in. She gasped and looked back at the guest room. Her brain sprinted, 'Do something, anything.' Abby did. She rushed to the kitchen, opened a drawer, took out a carving knife, sharp, she had brought it recently. She hid it inside her sweater and returned to her spot.
The guest room opened. The guy walked out casually. He didn't look at Abby, he didn't look at anything. He walked with a purpose. He reached for the white couch, set before the TV. He sat down there, picked up the remote from the coffee table. He turned on the TV. The channel was set on the news channel.
It was Sickick again. Every news channel, media, everything just talked about him. The news reporter described a new body found just 25 minutes ago. He's coming back after a murder. The guy leaned back on the couch.
"Another victim found gruesomely murdered. The victim's face is beyond recognition, as if hit with something heavy several times to ruin his face. The victim's heart is pulled out and the same word 'Sickick' is carved on the victim's heart. Police are doing their investigations. It looks like Sickick has returned--"
The reporter went on. Abby's eyes slowly trailed from the TV screen to the guy sitting on her couch. He watched the news like the reporter was talking about the weather. He raised the remote, pointing at the TV. "You hear how they talk about me?" His voice was soft, conversational. "Like I'm a storm. But storms don't sit on your couch, do they?"
Her skin went cold. She couldn't answer. She could barely stand anymore.
His gaze drifted past her, toward the closed door. Then back at her.
"Funny thing about storms, though," he murmured. "They don't care what they destroy."
Abby broke. "What do you want? Food? Money? I'll give you that, just please just leave."
He arched a brow, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. "Do I look like I need money? Food?" His voice was so steady, so calm, that for a terrifying second it almost sounded rational.
Abby's breath caught. "Then what do you want?"
"Just a conversation." He said it so simply, as if he wasn't coming here after carving someone's heart out. He went back to watching the news. Abby stayed glued to her spot.
"The little one," he said, his voice quiet, almost a purr. His eyes, still fixed on the TV, moved swiftly to the area around her right arm. "It's a carving knife, isn't it? Very small. Not enough to do more than annoy me."
"I won't tell you to sit," he continued, still incredibly calm, "but I will ask you to put the knife down, Abby. Drop it on the floor where I can see it. Then we can talk."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, the words tasting like ash. She forced her hands to her sides, trying to appear innocent, but her right shoulder was rigid. She was tense.
"Oh, you're clever, Abby," he praised, his head tilted. "But you're not fast enough. When you reached into that kitchen drawer, you moved in 1.4 seconds. I measured. And the moment you placed it in your sleeve, your posture changed. You see, I observe the details. That's why you're still standing and they are not."
He pointed a clean finger at the TV screen, where the gruesome act was still being shown.
"Drop it. I don't want this conversation to end before it begins. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, that little thing wouldn't have bought you a single extra breath. It only makes you loud, and I hate noise."
DID YOU LIKED IT?! because honestly? It's the best fic I have written so far. 🥱 You wouldn't see the plot coming 💋
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