Long Timothee Chalamet Stories

The Orphan Maker (P7)

Warnings - serial killer, gore, kidnapping, baby trapping, toxic Timothée, obsessive Timothée, injury, rage, breaking things, running away from partner, stalking, sadness and angst, judgemental of pregnancy, breaking and entering, mentions of the death penalty, mentions of abusive parents, mentions of murder, mentions of child sexual assault from a parent, losing weight, misery

Readers POV

Timothée was like Peter Pan, the children like the lost boys. They clearly adored him. I felt nauseous when I saw him holding a baby. An infant! He'd kidnapped an infant.

I knew what I would do. I would pretend to be enamored. I would feed his ego and then, when I went to pack up my house to move in, I would run. It was my only choice. He had shown me how far he was willing to go for something he cared about.

"Wow, they love you," I said, holding onto his arm. Why did I still love touching him? Why did I still feel so close to him.

"He saved us," said Diana.

"Did he?" I asked.

"Our lives were hell. He brought us to Heaven, and he promised us a mommy, That's you," Caleb said happily. I was taken aback. I searched my heart and realized I wanted to fulfill the role Timothée had given me.

"You don't miss your parents, what if people are looking for you?" I asked, and Timothée's face whipped toward mine. I had to be more careful.

"I never want to leave heaven!" Elijah beamed. I realized something all of a sudden. I hadn't considered turning him in even for a second. I realized I had a weight on my shoulders now. I couldn't do it, he'd easily get the electric chair. Maybe I had to leave but I couldn't doom him to that.

"Do you love it," he asked, his arms circling me, as his hands landed on my growing stomach.

"I do, we're already a family," I lied.

"I can't wait to meet my baby sibling," Sara said, staring at me in awe. I think I liked her the best.

"Would you like to feel my belly?" I asked without thinking.

"Could I?" She said, eyes large and angelic.

"Of course," I said, and I drew her small brown hand to my stomach.

"Wow!" She smiled. "I always felt bad for wanting a sister or brother," she said quietly.

"Why?" I asked.

"I-I wanted one so bad, but I was worried that daddy would come into their room at night too. Of course I'd try to help them, but what if I had a sleepover? Or what if we were in separate rooms."

Horror roiled in my gut at the heaviness of her words. I wanted to hold her close and protect her. This must be what Timothée felt. Who of us hadn't wanted to brutally murder a pedophile? Timothée had just actually done it.

"I can't wait to live here," I smiled.

"You can move in tomorrow morning," Timothée said excitedly.

"Why not now?" I said shakily. "I'm awake. I'm sure you want time with the kids. I can have my neighbor help me."

He looked worried.

"She's a girl," I calmed him.

"Oh, okay," he nodded.

"So I'll be back as quickly as possible," I said, and kissed Timothée for the last time.

Timothée's POV

It'd been two months, and I was worse off than I'd ever been. She'd lied, she'd left me. My house was in shambles from all the raging I'd done. I'd kept it away from the children, and Heaven remained unharmed and perfect. However, each child's abandonment issues, especially Sara's, were blooming horribly.

I had gone through quite the time. I was juggling my family, while searching for her. She must've ditched her phone and not taken her car, because I had trackers on both. I had fallen asleep at the wheel, and my car was out of commission, and my body was sore. My face was messed up, which disturbed the kids.

I was afraid to hire a P I. When I allowed myself time to rest, I hugged the pillow she'd last sept on and cried, begging the universe for the scent of her shampoo to reach my nostrils somehow.

I lived on coffee and five hour energies. I had lost fifteen pounds, changing me from gracefully slender, to nearly skeletal. I was throwing up from nerves, and I was always jittery from the caffeine.

For a bit, I'd stopped murdering, but then I needed it to stop myself from spiraling into darkness. The news had noted the insane jump in violence in the murders. They'd been gruesome before, but I'd gotten more creative with my anger. Hanging innards like decorations, hiding the heads in horrible places, cutting them into pieces and writing words with the parts. I was nearly caught every time, and therefore only one child, Zuzu, had been saved. I felt horrible. All those children going into the system.

Finally, a light shone through the black clouds. A call from what I could only assume was a real angel.

"This is Linda Harmon, I'm with customer service from Love Gems. I noticed you haven't activated the tracer in the diamond necklace you bought from us several months ago. I'm checking that you understand how the tracer works, and are satisfied with your purchase."

"Tracer?" My voice was weak. I must've been so sleep deprived of forgotten.

"Yes, you purchased the love at a distance package. The diamonds have strong trackers in them, you have yet to activate them. If you can give me your date of birth, I can give you your code again. You can easily activate the trackers from the Love Gems app with your code."

Hope! I scrambled for a pencil and paper as I told her my birthday. She listed a series of numbers and letters that I forced my shaking hands to write carefully.

"Thank you, this is a God send," I said.

"I can sense your worry. If the person you gifted the necklace to use missing, as long as they're wearing it, and haven't crossed an ocean, this should be helpful," she said.

"Yes, yes thank you," I choked on a sob.

When we hung up I downloaded the app. I was praying that she had kept it out of some buried feelings for me. I stared at the churning circle that loaded the results. She hadn't gone too far. Maine. I was immediately buying plane tickets.

Reader POV

I hated that I missed him. I hated that the small town I had moved to glared at my ringless hand and swollen stomach. I hated, secretly, that he hadn't found me.

Things were going well. I had a grocery store job and a small apartment. Everything was much cheaper than New York. I hadn't taken anything with me except my pregnancy supples.

When I thought over the past with Timothée I realized I'd ignored many red flags. He'd been much too eager to get me the morning after pill, and I knew it must've been fake now. I thought he probably knew I was ovulating. He had baby trapped me. I knew he had trackers on me, because I'd noticed some oddities on my phone. He was obsessive over me, and had been willing to move in, within such a short time. So why, why did I miss him like Hell? Why did I dream of him every night? Why did I hold my stomach and cry because my baby would never know their daddy?

I sighed as I came home from work. I unlocked my door. I gasped as I saw a figure sitting in my chair.

"Hello, Mon Amor."