Below The Waves

Chapter Eleven: An Old Friend

Ricky sat, staring at the floor. He lifted a hand to his ear, it was warm and sticky. He stared at his blood coated fingers. Recovering from the shock.

"W-who are you?" The girl whispered. He stood up and the spirits gasped and floated towards him.

You were there. You were there you were there. Their soft voices grew in his mind, making his ears ring.

"I was told I was at the other spirits abduction." He breathed.

Mine too. At mine. You were at mine. Many different shouts raised in his head. He stared, confused at the spirits. How?

No time for wondering. He ignored the ghosts poking and prodding at him and ran to the girl in the chair. His hands fumbled at the thick rope.

So long ago

Alex stared at him, tears still clinging to her cheeks. He tried everything he could to calm her down, but nothing worked. The spirits never ending calls filled his mind.

Mine. You were there. At mine. Why. You did nothing.

Finally it came undone, but not before the man saw Ricky.

"Shawn! Take her and run!" He shouted, just as Shawn picked up the girl and bolted out of the house. The man looked strangely calm. He only smiled. A huge, toothy grin, like a clown.

At mine. Mine. You didn't stop him.

"Ah. So it's you. Nice to see you again." The man greeted him politely, sitting on the couch. Ricky stared, shaking, his mouth hanging open.

Unforgivable

"Who the hell are you!?" He shouted. "You-you fucking MANIAC!! YOU RUINED SO MANY PEOPLE LIVES!! YOURE A DISGRACE! A FOOL! A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!" With a cry Ricky took a powerful swing at the psychotic man, sitting infront of him wearing a small half smile, but the murder caught a hold of Ricky's wrist with ease. He laughed.

"Every time." He shook his head. "Every time we see each other you say the same damn thing and do the same damn punch. It's getting boring. You should spice it up a little." He shrugged. Ricky's blood boiled. "I mean, after I killed you those couple times, I figured that-"

"WHAT?!"

At mine

The man grunted and rolled his eyes. "Children. I said you should spice up your act, maybe I won't get away with as many delicious murders." Ricky shook.

"No. You-you said that you- I've never met you before." He trailed off.

Did nothing

"Of course my old friend! You're dead!" Ricky struggled to find his breath. Dead? No. His hands scraped his chest, desperately feeling for his heart beat, which he already knew was no where to be found. The once familiar thud, thud, thud, was gone. Replaced with an erie silence that made his stomach turn.

"And you faint in 3."

Ricky's vision blurred.

You were there.

"2"

He staggered on his feet.

You didn't stop it.

"1"

He is practically a killer too.

Everything went black. The last thing he heard, was the man's chipper voice.

"Oh. Well that's new."