Dementophobia || Sanders Sides

5. Aftermath

God, I already love what I have planned >:)

TW: swearing, blood, talk of death/murder, talk of stalking, Weapons, arguing, threats,

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Well, shit.

Virgil turned to look to Roman, who was surprisingly still standing there. He looked shocked, but he wasn't running.

"You- you killed them," Roman muttered. He was glancing between the body, Virgil, and the knife that was still dripping blood. "What the hell?"

"I told you, Roman," Virgil said, his voice calm despite the thrill that was racing through his own blood. There must've been something in his eyes, because when they made eye contact Roman flinched and looked away. "You put yourself at a disadvantage following me in here."

"So what? Were you planning on killing me from the beginning?" Virgil took a step forward, slightly surprised when Roman didn't back away. Despite the obvious fear in him, he wasn't as scared as most were. Why wasn't he running?

"I tried to get you to go, but you didn't seem to want to." Virgil laughed quietly. "You should've just stopped when I told you to stop."

"Well, you have no right to talk," Roman muttered bitterly. "You brought me here to murder me."

"You stalked me," Virgil deadpanned. "You should really do more research before you stalk someone. I'm surprised you haven't gotten killed already."

"Anyone else was dead before anything could've happened anyway." Roman seemed to realize what he had said, his skin paling slightly.

"What was that?" Virgil tilted his head, looking at Roman with a curious expression. He didn't look like a murderer, but most people didn't think he looked like a stalker, either, so Virgil could be wrong.

"Nothing!" Roman said quickly.

"C'mon. Let's get out of here before someone else shows up."

"What do you mean?" Roman narrowed his eyes. "Weren't you going to kill me?"

"I was." Virgil laughed. He closed the distance between them, trailing the bloody knife down from Roman's neck until it got to where his heart would be. It left a trail of blood seeping into the fabric. "You annoy me far more than I thought a person could. Logically, it would be safer to kill you. But I've never been one for logic, and you look like you have information I don't. I really do hate not being informed. So come on. Follow me, or is now when you're finally going to decide to stop stalking me?"

"I'm following."

~

Virgil opened the door to his apartment quietly, gesturing to Roman to step inside. Roman, to his credit, didn't look nearly as nervous as most people would in this situation. Maybe it was because he was a stalker. No matter what the reason was, it made things much easier for Virgil.

"It's emptier than I thought it would be."

"Excuse me?" Virgil raised shot him an annoyed look. "You've contemplated what my apartment would look like?"

"I may be a tiny bit obsessive when I stalk someone," Roman muttered.

"Oh, so now you're going to admit you were stalking me. You couldn't have admitted that before I had to try to get you to stop stalking me, which caused me to kill someone in front of you?"

"Well it's not like I expected this!"

"And what the hell did you expect?" Virgil asked.

"I.... I'm not exactly sure," Roman said. Once again, Virgil wanted to bash his pretty head in. He looked like the picture of innocence, and that pissed him off more than the stalking ever did.

"Whatever, I'm going to go clean up." He walked towards the bedroom, leaving Roman to do whatever the hell he wanted.

His clothes had more blood on them than usual. Usually his kills were cleaner than this, but anger and annoyance made this one much more messy. It would take too much effort and time to remove the blood from the clothes this time, so they would just have to be destroyed. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Mistakes happen. Not every kill can be mess free and simple.

Cleaning up after a kill was usually calming, giving his mind a focus to dull down the buzz of energy that spread through him from the adrenaline. This time, however, he couldn't help the nervous energy that was in him as he cleaned up.

Roman was a wild card. He couldn't afford to let him tell anyone about what he had seen, but the information he potentially had could be helpful.

That could wait, though. Decisions could be made in the morning.

"You can sleep on the bed," Virgil said, gesturing towards the room he had just exited from, new clothes covering his body. "If you touch anything or go through my things I'll slit your throat and let your blood cover the bed."

"Where are you going to sleep?" Roman asked.

"On the couch," Virgil deadpanned. "I'd like to sleep in my own bed, but I don't trust you to not run off in the middle of the night. The other option is tying you to the bed, but I don't think that would be very comfortable to sleep that way."

"The bed is fine."

"We'll talk in the morning."

874 words.