Repetition Compulsion

40.

Suddenly panic stricken, yet having a good sense of what exactly was going on, Sera dropped the lighter as well as the empty container onto the ground, ran out the living room and made her way to the bedroom to look for Troy.

"Troy!" she screamed. "Troy, we need to leave right now!"

The blinds were closed, so the bedroom was dim. But even with the lack of light, she could still see Troy lying face down across her bed, with his shoes still on. 

Her first reaction was annoyance, because her white duvet cover was now soiled and dirty from Troy's muddy shoes.

How did he get here? Why is he sleeping there like that?

Nonetheless, she shook her annoyance off.

"Troy, something bad is about to happen! We have to leave right now before it does!" she screamed in panic.

She climbed onto the bed, got on top of him and then grabbed him by the shoulders. His eyes were closed, and his body loose and untensed. She shook him slightly, but he still did not budge.

"Troy, it's happening again! You have to wake up! We have to leave! Please, I don't wanna hurt you, we have to leave!"

Still no answer from Troy. In fact, the only answer she got was the voice coming from behind her in the location of her bedroom door, and it most definitely was not Troy's voice.

"He can't help you. He's dead."

But Sera was too emotional to hear the voice, so she just kept shaking Troy's lifeless body and screaming. "We have to go! Otherwise they are gonna lock me up! I can't go to jail, I can't go back to that mental asylum! Please, Troy, you have to help me! We have to leave! We have to leave before I do something bad again, please!"

The voice came again, and even though she recognized it, her mind refused to accept it all. But with every syllable that came out of his mouth, it became more and more difficult to ignore the all too familiar deadly calm, flat monotone, that she had spent years of her life despising.

"Like I said: He can't help you. He's dead."

The man took a few more steps towards the bed, grabbed Sera by the hair, and then pulled her away from Troy's body. He wrapped her arms behind her back and spun her around, to face him. Now she was forced to face the reality that was now in front of her, but she closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to. 

"My mind is playing tricks on me again. The sheriff is dead, and so is Grace. This is all in my head, I just need to get out of here." She muttered to herself.

"On the contrary..."

"Troy! Troy, we have to leave! Troy, wake up! Ohmigawsh Troy! This is not a joke, dammit! We have to leave!"

The man continued holding Sera down with one hand, and then rolled Troy's body over with the other.

"Look at all the blood, Sera. Touch it if you must.", he grabbed hold of her left hand and forced it to graze Troy's bloody chest. "See the blood? Feel the blood? He's dead, Sera. He's dead."

She dared herself to look down at her left hand, and surely enough it was covered in blood. Troy's blood.

She closed her eyes, refusing to believe her eyes, or to accept the situation.

"No. No. This is not real. It's a dream...it has to be...a nightmare. Ohmigawsh, HELP!", she screamed from the top of her lungs before his cold hands wrapped around her mouth, forcing her to keep quiet.

She felt her body go into shock, once again, as his hand grazed her mouth. This could only mean one thing: Her body was remembering. It was remembering him, and it was remembering his touch, and it did not like it one bit.

"Don't ever try that again, or I'll kill you", he snarled.

"You already killed Grace. Then you killed Troy. You're gonna kill me anyway."

His lips curled into an all too familiar cold smirk. "Smart girl"

"What do you want from me? You're dead."

"Do I look dead to you?"

"You killed Grace, then I killed you. You died 3 years ago, along with Grace."

"She sends her love"

"You're sick! You're fucking sick! Ohmigawsh, I can't believe you killed Troy. No. No. It can't be. He can't be dead. Tell me it's a joke. Tell me it's not true. Tell me he is not dead. Troy, if this is a joke, I fucking swear!"

The sheriff opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to change his mind. Instead, he loosened his hold on Sera, and then looked down at her with pity. "Boy, they really did a number on you, didn't they?"

Sera felt cold, colder than she'd ever felt in her life. The coldness in the room was unreal. And in that moment, it crossed her mind that evil often brought by feelings of intense cold. And so, in the midst of shuddering, she finally decided that she was in the presence of true evil, and that terrified her more than anything that could have happened in that moment.