Grinded

chapter XXIX.

It seemed like a century ago when everything was normal. When August and his friends were nothing more than some hormonal teenagers eager trying to figure their shit out, to find who they were in this world.

And now here he stood, wondering how the fuck their paths had led them to this moment.

His mouth had long ran dry. His face had become ghastly pale, his pupils dilating as he burned an unbelieving, piercing glare into the eyes of the person behind the string of murders. The person responsible for bringing a never ending reign of fear across Sunset Ridge.

The fucking person August had fallen for. And now all those feelings of love and affection were destroyed, nothing left but an anchor of betrayal. An anchor that chained him where to he stood.

"Hey, August," came the voice of Freddie, almost breathlessly, gripping the knife that had claimed the lives of their friends, blood smeared across the serrated blade. "I know this isn't what you were expecting."

August's mouth fell open as he fought to find what the fuck to say. But when he tried to speak, it just felt like he was going to vomit, deception washing over his body rapidly. There were no words to respond to what was happening right before him.

Just hours ago, August had his hands running through Freddie's thick, warm blonde locks, a smile so bright on his lips that was almost acting as a beacon for Freddie's own. There was nothing more August would've wanted in that moment; it was bliss.

Just him and Freddie.

His heart had been so full of love. Compassion. That longing to feel whole had started to become nothing more than an estranged memory.

And now every ounce of that had been drained from him as betrayal sank its claws into his chest. His heart thumped in his throat as he simply just stared into the crazed eyes of Freddie, a veil of insanity having draped over him as he discarded the mask to the side.

A beat of silence passed, although to August, it felt like a painful eternity. A moment he was forced to remain within, as though he were paying some form of karmic debt.

Did I deserve this?

"What.." August faltered, his breath hitching, "why?"

That's all he could manage. Shock had taken hold of his body like a vengeful demon.

Freddie seemed to ponder on the question for a few seconds. His eyes narrowed at August in an observant, cold stare; a smile then slowly began curling up on the corners of his lips, the dried blood cracking and crumbling.

August recognised that fucking smile. It was the smile Freddie made when August was slow at picking up when Freddie flirted with him. Or attempted too, at least.

There was something he was clearly missing. A piece of puzzle that seemingly only August held.

Freddie sniffled, dragging his arm across his nose to wipe away the fresh light stream of blood, he set his sights back on August. The psychotic teen edged one step closer, twirling the knife playfully.

"C'mon, August. I thought it'd be obvious. To you, at least."

August backed up against the door. Now wasn't the time for him to become so lightheaded.

Freddie pursed his lips and raised the blade up to his mouth, gently dragging it across his lips.

The action alone was enough to send a ripple of chills down August's spine. His body was under a full blown assault of emotions as he found himself listening to why Freddie had stabbed his way through their friends, until there was no one else, but them.