Repetition Compulsion

41.

"Why did you kill Troy? You ruined everything! You fucking ruined everything! I hate you!"

"He hurt you, I could feel it from over there." he pointed to the cupboard at the end of the corridor way leading away from the kitchen to her bedroom. "I saw him hurt you, so I had to teach him a lesson. One he will never forget."

"Ohmigawsh, you're a fucking psycho! You hurt me too, you idiot!"

"That's different."

"How the fuck is it different!?" by this time she was screaming, her chest heaving with pain, and she found she could not control her body, her voice, or the words coming out of her mouth. "Billy, you and Troy both put your hands on me and forced yourselves on me, like I wasn't even human. Like I didn't deserve to have a choice in the matter. You made choices about my body for me. You broke me, and I didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve that, dammit."

"Hush, little girl. You don't know what you are talking about. He did it because he's twisted, I did it because I love you and want to be with you. You love me too, you just needed some time away to realize it. Now that you do, I've come to take you away with me."

"Oh my fucking gosh.  This can't be happening. You're not real. You're dead. I killed you."

He smacked her across the face. "Does that feel like a dead person's slap?"

A single tear drop rolled from her cheeks. "Gosh. I hate you so much, even in your death."

"Sera, What did they tell you about that night?"

"You killed Troy!"

"Focus, Serendipity!"

"Gosh, why can't you just stay dead!?"

"Remember, I have all the power here: I'm stronger and smarter than you."

His eyes roamed down to Sera's chest. "Besides, I don't need a gun to kill you. If I want the job done, I'll just leave that in there for a couple more minutes."

Sera's eyes moved down to her chest, and then she got her second or third shock for the night. There was blood pouring, and gushing down her chest, and as she looked further down, she got another shock, because surely enough, there was also a knife sticking out from her the space separating her ribs. 

She hadn't felt any pain before looking. She didn't feel any pain after she saw the hole and the knife in her chest. And she found herself wondering if the knife was fresh or if it had always been there. She also found herself wondering if she was just hallucinating this whole encounter, including the knife in her chest. 

"If that doesn't work, I could always crack your neck with one hand." He put his hand around her neck. "If you don't want that, you better cooperate."

The sheriff got up and then walked towards Sera's study desk in the corner of her room. There, he reached for a plastic bag Sera hadn't seen before, took out some duct tape, and then walked back towards Sera.

He pulled her hands behind her and her feet up toward her hands, then he wrapped adhesive tape around them, binding them all together in a painful, tight roll.

"Don't scream," he warned. "If you do scream and someone comes to your rescue, I'll just kill you both. After that, I'll kill myself too, then next on the list will be little Gracie if no one comes to her rescue soon."

Her heart skipped a beat. A flutter of hope. "Grace is alive too?"

"That depends on whether or not you choose to cooperate. Don't make me the bad guy. I'm trying to tell you the truth. I'm trying to be good for you." He bent over and put his face against her cheek, breathing in her scent before whispering "I love you," and moving back towards her study desk where he sat on a chair and stared longingly into space.

She felt a cold shiver run down her spine, and that combined with the disgust she was feeling made her feel so sick. So sick that she had to throw up. She turned to the side and threw up the previous night's dinner. 

He didn't budge. He just sat there watching her, a longing look in his eyes. 

For a long time, there was stillness, no sound anywhere. Sera took another moment to consider that she was in fact hallucinating, that none of this was happening, none of this was real. Her heart was pounding, so she could hear it echoing around the room. She could feel her body growing weary and tired, and she wondered if the mysterious knife plunged into her chest had anything to do with it. She could feel veins in her wrists throbbing and popping, yet she was powerless to do anything about it. She had alienated herself from everyone, so she knew no one was coming for her. She wasn't sure if she wanted anyone to come for her. She was so tired, that for her, death would have felt like a price, a chance to rest. But what kept her going was the flutter of hope the sheriff had villainously planted in her: The possibility of Grace being alive.