I Live For The Chase

Chapter 6

The next week passes like the ones before- filled with apprehension and foreboding. I have not seen the gray killer since that night where he left me alone in the darkness with nothing but my waking terror to keep me company. I drifted off to sleep somehow, although it took me a while. Sleep overcame me and I dreamt of a red devil lurking in the dark woods while I slowly entered and tried to remain undetected although throughout the whole dream I could feel the devil's eyes staring at me... waiting for the right moment to pounce.

I woke up with a damp, cold caked on my hairline in the early morning just when the sun was arriving from the distant hills.

I forced myself to go to school, pretending to Honey and Asher that everything was alright when it was anything but. I sat through a painful two hours of math and English, constantly looking over my shoulder... waiting for him to make an appearance.

As terrified as I have been this week, this fear is something different than when it was before. Before that night I was possessed by this sick nauseated feeling... a feeling that I was being watched. It freaked me the fuck out and I was filled with anxiety about the grey devil. Now... now it's different. I don't know quite how to describe it. That same fear is still there but it has transformed into something new, something I have never experienced- never felt before. Is it... thrill?

No it can't be. Some small, minuscule part of my psyche must be destroyed from all the trauma I have gone through these past weeks because there is no what that what I am feeling is fucking thrills... It can't be.

But as much as I try to deny it, I can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop thinking about who he is or why he has to do what he is doing. But most importantly, I can't stop thinking about how all the men he has killed—those chains of bodies he has left scattered around Oakwood were not just heartless killings. They were all apart of a ploy to rid this town of sadistic rapists. Maybe it makes me just as evil as him but what I see him doing are acts of good.

He is killing men, but he is saving all those girls.

Some small part of me admires him for that. That same small part of me sees through his evil, devilish demeanor and into a man that is doing good.

But I can't let that small part of myself consume me. I can't let that small part oversee the principle that he is still murdering people. Emotionlessly.

Walking home from school the Friday following the night with the killer, I passed the police station. Part of my consciousness just wants to race through the entrance and confess everything. Tell them about the Grey Devil, tell them about my Dad. Every fiber of my being wants to do it.

But I don't. Because despite everything, despite the guilt and the stress, I still want to live.

I want to have a life—get married, have kids.

It sounds stupid, but that's what I want: the simple life.

And I can't get that if I walk into the police station.

Instead, I walk to Asher's house. I need to distract myself and what better way of doing that than getting high.

Such a healthy mindset.

I knock on the door to his house and I hear Sally, Asher's golden retriever, start barking from behind the door.

"Sally, no!" I hear Asher yell at her. Sally's always kind of annoyed him. Me and Honey always laugh about it when we're at his house because as much as he tries to deny it, he loves Sally.

The door opens after a minute.

"Hey." He says. "Come in."

"Thanks." I say walking inside.