Damn.
Scott brushed his forehead leaning back.
Damn.
"Are you mad?" She said quietly behind him.
He glared back at her. "The fuck does it look like?"
She shifted. "Like you're mad."
"Yeah. I'm fucking mad." He huffed. This was easier in his dream.
"I can-"
"Just sit down!" He snapped. "Don't touch anything, don't move anything I don't want you breathe near this!"
She shifted. "It's my fault. I'll just fix it-"
He turned around frowning. "Oh you would love that, wouldn't you? Didn't I tell you to sit down?"
He turned back around, starting his digging again.
Damn.
"Scott...what did you do in your dream again?"
"I was the worlds best surgeon. I also moonlighted as a serial killer."
She frowned. "Well you never told me tha."
"Didn't seem like good conversation. You know. Besides it was a dream. Or it was."
He stared down at the body. "Why did this happen?"
"I...I told Annika to stay away from him. And she said..."
He gritted his teeth. "I told you...you should've went to authority's. You could've done anything but this!"
"He bragged about it. So I was supposed to let him run his mouth? No. I couldn't do that'."
He glared at her. "Yes, you could've."
She gritted her teeth. "What are you sorry for him?"
"This isn't about him. This is about you. Making self-destructive choices I mean what the fuck did you think I was gonna do?! I could've called the police."
She pouted. "I knew you wouldn't."
"You didn't know shit," he snarled, his eyes narrowed. "And if you knew you should've known not to go bludgeoning people, look at him!"
He glanced at the man. "His pupils blown," he sighed. "It's traumatic brain injury. What happens if I patch him up, and he comes forward?"
"Blackmail him," she shrugged.
"And what happens if he doesn't care much?"
He sighed. "No...I'm going to deal with him. Do you know if he has a wife? Kids? Did anyone see you talking to him?"
She shook her head. "But that I know off."
Scott clenched his jaw. "Go in the house, Ana. You don't need to see this."
He pulled his phone up. He did a search, quietly.
"What are you going to do?"
He sighed. "I'm going to slit his throat. To the carotid. I'll put pressure to try to avoid bleeding. Then I'll burn anything I've come in contact with. He's estranged from his wife and kid, seems she knows of his habits. We should be able to get away with this."
She covered her mouth. "I'm sorry I just...I couldn't let him...I couldn't-"
Scott swallowed. "I'm the...I had power. That's the difference. I had power, and influence and money. Right now, I only have money. And a record of mental illness."
He sighed. "Oh well. I am white still, at least. They walked Jeffery Dahmer's victim right back in his house that smelled like rotting flesh. Let's hope we get one of those."
Ana sighed. "I may have..done another thing."
Scott closed his eyes. "Let me guess? Annika's here. You just had to save her. You just had to bludgeon him. You just had to bring them both back to my place of residence and might I add? The place my mother carved me open? Where she kept her victims? If anyone-"
Scott looked at her. "Alright. Go in the house. Return Annika. Tell them she followed you home."
"I can't. I can't do that."
Scott clenched his jaw. "Sure you can."
"Go in the house, Ana," he pulled his wallet out. "Here. I want you to spend the balance of that card. When you're done, go to sleep."
She stated down at his card. "Just passing the time though?"
He paused, frowning at the ground. She turned around walking away.
• • •
The stars twinkled brightly, as Scott sat on the grass. His shaking hands searched his pockets frantically finding what he was looking for.
He took the cigarette and lit it.
"Cigarettes? Didn't think you smoked?" She sat next to him.
"I don't," he stared at it. "It's awful, and anyone with half a mind wouldn't touch the poison."
"Let me try," she said.
He shoved it in the ground, the flame sizzling out silently.
"No. You've got enough bad habits. Just a stick of cancer anyway."
He sighed. She laid her head on his shoulder.
"I can't remember what she looks like," he said quietly.
"Your mom?"
He nodded.
She shrugged. "Just make something up."
Scott just scoffed. "That easy? Just like that?"
"I mean she's dead? What's she gonna do be like that's not what I look like from hell?"
He snorted, laying his head on hers. "Probably not."
She smiled. "Probably not."
