𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 ↬ нѕ

12. ✧ you tell me, little red.

▹ 𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐱𝐢𝐢.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐎𝐰𝐧 𝐌𝐞 | Lesley Gore
𝐌𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧 | The Chordettes

Heavy breathing. That's all the young girl can hear, her heart racing in her chest. She feels like someone is sitting on her body and applying as much pressure as they can, placing their hand over her mouth so she can't breathe. But she's only out of breath from running; it's been minutes but it feels like forever.

Everything changed quickly, too quickly, like a snap of a finger. She didn't see it coming. One minute she was blushing, speaking to someone she thought could be a new friend. The next minute she was running; running away from her own reflection as she found herself trapped in a maze full of mirrors.

Her hand rests over the bare skin of her chest as she feels her heart try to rip through her body. Her pulse speeds up and her heartbeat pounds almost as hard as her hands, which are slamming against the mirrors she avoids running into. She desperately tries to find a way to escape, avoiding bumping into the reflective walls, while her bloody palms continue bashing into the glass to be sure she isn't missing her way out.

She was convinced she'd die from a heart attack before the man behind her could catch up. She could have been having one, she thought if she ran any faster she'd die. She thought about collapsing once or twice, giving up and letting him take her sooner than later. But instead, she chose to pray; pleading for God's help.

It made the man with the knife behind her laugh. He doesn't believe in any of that bullshit, that is what he likes to call religion anyway, a bunch of bullshit people create to have something to look forward to after their miserable lives come to end. People live and people die, he has thought the same thing since he was little. It could be from his father, it could be from his mother, or maybe the girl he used to love, but either way that's the way he views reality; his sick and twisted reality.

So he mocks her. He mocks the naive red head's beliefs. He even imitates the sound of her high pitch screams to himself. He then chuckles under his breath in a sick sadistic manner, listening to his laugh travel throughout the room in an echo while her crying and chants for help turn into gasps for air as she loses her ragged breath.

The closer he gets the more he can sense her fear, breathing in that metallic smell of her blood like he needs it in order to survive. He smiles watching the crimson color roll down the glass, he even dips his finger into a small puddle, dragging it up to his lips to have a taste. It's his form of oxygen, he can't live without it. It gives him more control, more power, it makes him feel alive knowing she soon won't be.

The power, the choice, it's all in his bloody hands. Whatever he wants to do, he could do it. He can get away with it. He's always been good at it. He has motives, he has reasons behind why he does such terrible things, but that didn't mean he had to take his killing seriously.

He's having fun. He's enjoying it. It's pleasurable, every little second. He even changes up his story to get them alone. Trying to see how soon he could gain another person's trust. It boosted his ego. It made him feel excited knowing how good he was at it.

He even kept his eye on the time to see if he could beat his record of seven minutes; that was part of the game. Seven minutes was how fast one of his victims fell for his charm, walking off with a stranger they just met. This girl, however, wasn't as quick, but he thought she was easy. Some days he hated easy, he liked more of a challenge. But today he was desperate for easy, he had somewhere to be.

She was afraid, crying, and soon to be dead. He was insane, violent, and has never felt more alive.

Why was it Amanda that he chose? The cliche helpless girl, originally walking to the carnival with a few friends to have a good time before school started again; she fell into his trap. When the man walked throughout the dirt road and spotted the short redhead standing there looking miserable in a group of people, he had a feeling she'd be fun. He thought he'd be doing her a favor. And the least he could do is make her smile before he ends her life.