Find me (English)

Bye Markus

"That bitch is still alive and that asshole got himself shot," thought a stupid Markus, who actually, in spite of what Dr. Felix Meyer thought, was not stupid at all. A satisfied grin passed over his face when he thought about the fact that the asshole was dead and apparently had not mentioned his name.

Neither were those two stupid traumatized little girls. Yes, on the one hand he was sorry because thanks to him he had a more than good financial income, he was helping him and vice versa, but on the other hand he was happy to be rid of them. Because he could see that he was losing his mind more and more and he thought he was going to make some mess as in fact had happened. For that a good two weeks before his departure he had set out again. Markus Seidel...

"Ahahah you can kiss my ass," he said laughing out loud, aware that that was just the latest of his multiple identities. He was going to look for another one, no big deal, it had worked great so far. He had already started actually, he had even bought everything he needed. The blond, tall, less big than a few weeks earlier and quite pleasing Markus, the worker always in overalls and heavy boots, went into the bathroom and never came out.

Goodbye Markus. Out of that same room came the always tall but already less big, brown, athletic Sebastian. He admired himself contentedly in the mirror of the Motel room he had chosen, slipped into the new sweatpants he had bought, slipped on his runner's shoes, pulled down the visor of his cap, and went out for a run. It was already since he had disappeared that he had cut back on food and stopped doing weights. Because he was like that. He was able to change his appearance in record time.

It had been numerous people Sebastian. The fat, lazy Ralph who would overeat and then the neighbors would see him out at night because poor guy absolutely had to walk and lose weight. The round-eyed, plaid-vested librarian Gerrit who spent the night on books. The late-night taxi driver, the biker who rode solo around bars. He even struggled to remember them all. In each of his identities he had satisfied his perversions. But unlike "that asshole" he was not interested in girls. He was interested in women.

Possibly very beautiful but not essential. That was not a requirement that ignited his desire. He was interested in women who screamed. They always screamed when he grabbed them, maybe in some dark alley and possessed them against their will. And he was turned on by that, by making terrified, screaming dolls of them. No, it was not enough for him to see their frightened look. He wanted them to beg him to stop. He wanted them to cry. He wanted them to scream enough. Of course, he would not stop until he was finished. That was exactly what gave him pleasure.

The later was up to them. They could choose to keep quiet or to continue and die. Yes because when he was done, then the screaming irritated him and he often ended up killing them but it was complicated because then he had to think about how to get rid of the bodies. They always stopped when they realized they could leave and often well-crafted threats were enough for them not even to press charges.

"But the stupid bitch didn't, she didn't cry out once, not even when I put my hands on her, she had a perfect body, her skin so smooth and soft. Despite the fact that I touched her and looked at her telling her what I was going to do to her soon, she didn't breathe. She didn't breathe when I lost my patience that she wasn't screaming and I was losing my dignity along with my excitement. She didn't breathe even though I was beating the shit out of her, made me look like an asshole and helpless in front of that asshole."

All he could think about was that. Because he had made them all scream, every one that came within his reach. But she hadn't. He, the doctor, had already had his punishment but the fact that she was still breathing and making a fool of him tomorrow he could not tolerate.
So that morning, reading the newspaper, he decided that the stupid bitch had to die. Then she would stop mocking him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few mornings later, the chubby, sympathetic-faced nurse came in to set up the bed in Hailey's room, who against all medical predictions and newspaper articles was not only still alive but recovering at a great rate, as she fluffed a pillow for her said:

"Merit of your beau, listen to me honey, if you don't marry him I will, I threatened to sedate him the first few days because he wouldn't move from your bed and I couldn't even get by in holy peace to check on you. Undaunted, he gave me a dirty look and continued to stand there like a hound. Talking to you. And he dared me to do it. To me, you know? He has to thank his lucky stars. Aaaah if this is not love.... But why can't I find a hot, longhair guy too? You know Viv?" he said turning to her colleague a few years younger.

"Because you're a bitch and you scare them all away," the other told her, starting to laugh.

Hailey begged her to stop making her laugh. She no longer had the excruciating pains that had accompanied her day and night, the ones that made her ring the doorbell and beg for something to give her to sleep. Even though she actually wanted to sleep to take her mind off things for a few hours. Marry Phil? Naa, he was not a marriage person, let alone one who would never do that. But then neither was she. Or was she?

But they were right about one thing. She was alive only because of him. His thoughts had kept her alive and his love was healing every wound. Especially those of the soul that are the most difficult. He had not abandoned her even when she had told him that she had taken off her clothes and would give herself in exchange for the child because he knew he wanted her dead anyway. He had not abandoned her even knowing that filthy hands had passed over her body.

Because there were no secrets between them, he had sworn it not too long before. She owed her life to a lot of people. To Jake who had found her in time by deciphering her riddle and who had carried her away dying from that place, to little Chris who had guided him to her when she could get out of there but had turned back. To Amanda who had driven as fast as she could. To Alan who had stopped her near-killer. She was relieved to know that he was dead. He would never come back for her again.

And she owed her life to her friends who had not abandoned her for a minute and took turns in her room to never leave her alone. And even to Cerberus who unknowingly was part of her rescue. She thought that she was indeed a lucky woman. But she was afraid because that other one was still alive and who knows where. She was afraid and she did not want to live like that. So she had fought with everyone because once again she was exposing herself too much. But in the end they had given in.

That morning a young boy delivered a bouquet of flowers.
"They are for the policewoman who saved the girls." The nurse took it and brought it to his room.
A cheerful, smiling Jessy took it from her hand, smelled the scent and walked to the bed.
"No really, I didn't think my brother was a bouquet kind of guy, what did you do to him?" she said laughing and assuming that she had sent them Phil who had been forcibly sent away so he could at least change.

She placed it in the hands of a puzzled-faced Hailey. No, Phil was not the flower type. Neither was she really.
She opened the card she found in the middle.

"I hope you get better. I will come to see you soon. A kiss. Markus."
Her hands began to shake and she threw him to the ground.
The trap had worked.