See no evil - The awakening

The joke's on me

— Baby, you are home, happy b-day.

How can I explain to Steph this has nothing to do with the panic attack or being home or my birthday. But that we are sharing the party with a psychopath, never aging, mind controlling, serial killer? There's no way, so I just need to survive the night and have him leave before everyone else.

— Who's the cutie? – She looks over my shoulder towards him.

— Just a guy who helped me come home from the event.

— I'm sure Luc would be raging if he knew you are walking around with someone that looks like that.

Like what? Like a murderous bastard? — Yeah, no, I don't think he is that cute.

— Then the panic attack must have blinded you baby.

I tried to avoid the uninvited guest as much as I could, he stood on the balcony for most of the night and at one moment it became apparent that he was not going to leave.

I walked outside, it was chilly, or it might have been me and the night I've had. I stood besides him as we both looked into the horizon.

— Yes. — I said and there was a long pause so I continued. —Yes, I remember you.

— I know. – He said calmly, still looking into the night.

— Could you try harder?

Now he looked at me, confused.

— Could you try making me forget you, harder? — I insisted.

He smiled. — I could, but you would need to trust me enough to be alone with me.

— You can't kill me knowing that everyone has seen your face. So ok.

He smiled again and shook his head.

He walked past me and got inside, he picked up a glass of wine and a fork and tapped it against the glass so that everyone would make silence and listen to him.

— I want to make a toast. For Casiopea. I've lived a long life, longer than anyone of you could ever imagine and I've never found someone like her.

The crowd seemed a bit confused, but everyone kept complete silence as he spoke.

— I would now like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate Casiopea's birthday, but it's time for everyone to leave. None of you has ever seen me, you don't know my face or that I've even appeared here tonight. — He paused and then his demeanor turned dark and he shouted. — LEAVE NOW!

I paralyzed as I watched everyone I knew running as puppets from my flat, not in fear, not in desperation, just being very quick in making what he had demanded become the truth. No more than two minutes had passed that we were alone, and now, the joke was on me.

— You were saying? — He said, and he was not happy.

— Please, make me forget you, you don't need to kill me.

He picked up a knife from the table and took my index finger with his hand. He broke the skin of my finger gently with the knife. I was so scared that I didn't even feel pain when I saw a drop of blood on the tip of my finger.

He took my hand and placed my finger in his mouth. I felt his sharp teeth against my skin and his tongue as he liked the blood coming from my finger.

He pressed his eyes closed and I could see the confusion in his face.

— What are you? — he finally said more to himself than for me to listen.

— I'm... a writer. — Yes, I know that was not the answer he expected but what would you have said?

He smiled again and picked up the knife and did the same thing with his finger, but this time, when the drop of blood appeared, he placed it on my lips and I knew I had to lick it, even without him telling me to do so.

I was expecting some out of world experience, shivers and hallucinations and craziness but nothing happened. Just the horrible flavor of blood on my mouth.

He looked at me, as if he was trying to find the connection, the spark, whatever was supposed to happen and he said once again — You don't remember me anymore.

This was my chance to perform once more, but I didn't know how to, should I stay still? Should I do something? Should I turn around and walk away? There's no user manual on how to react to some type of enchantment from a what the fuck do I know creature. So I stood there, acting all empty inside, Saying nothing at all. Not moving one inch of my body and breathing to regulate my heartbeat. It had gotten easier. To lie to him. I wasn't so afraid anymore. I didn't move a muscle. I think I didn't even blink.

He stared at me, and I stared back at him, and I think the blood must have kicked in, because I suddenly felt the urge to kiss him. This horrible, manipulating serial killer and I wanted to kiss him badly. But I didn't, I held my ground, I kept my composure. I stood still even after he had left. Even after minutes had passed. I stood still.

I survived and dranken serial killer's blood on my 34th birthday.

Happy birthday to me.