Bittersweet | Ticci Toby

6 || ❝𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫❞

You turn down the radio in your car, the volume gradually fading as you slowly steer into your neighborhood. The street is dimly lit by the streetlights, their soft glow barely piercing through the thick fog that has settled over everything. The fog wraps itself around the houses and trees like a mysterious blanket, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead.

As you slow down, you drive cautiously, your mind drifting into autopilot mode. You let your thoughts wander, using the quiet drive as a chance to entertain yourself. The familiar route doesn't require much attention, so you relax a bit, enjoying the eerie atmosphere created by the fog.

Flashback

"Holy shiii-" you whisper softly under your breath, your eyes widening as you get a good look at him.

"...am I that fucking ugly?" A raspy voice answers. His pin-straight, dry hair, dark as midnight, falls lazily in front of his face. His piercing cold blue eyes finally meet yours.

'Another fucking freak oh my God I'm gonna kill myself.' you think to yourself.

"Huh?.. uh, oh! No, no! Not at all, it's just I was.." You try to come up with a sentence to explain your staring, but you can't just say that his appearance is so terrifying it nearly scared you senseless.

Your heart is beating incredibly fast, thudding loudly in your chest like a drum. You can't seem to remain focused, your thoughts scattering in every direction. Panic is setting in, and you feel lightheaded, almost on the verge of passing out. Every breath feels shallow, and your palms are sweaty.

The way you stumble over your words seems amusing to him. His lips curl into a slight, almost mocking smile, and his eyes twinkle with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Your mind races, desperately trying to find the right words to explain that he looks batshit crazy and disgusting. The pressure makes it even harder to think clearly. You're acutely aware of how ridiculous you must look, fumbling and stammering like a fool. This only adds to your anxiety, making it feel like your heart might burst out of your chest.

He watches you intently, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Do you have a cellphone on you? Please, I need help" you follow up quickly.

He lets out a freakishly loud cackle.

"Why should I help you?"

'Is he being serious right now' you ask yourself, not having enough energy to engage in stupid mind games.

"Look Jigsaw, if I dont have an ambulance called within 5 minutes I'm gonna fucking bleed to death" you say between ragged breaths, trying your best not to black out, your vision blurring slightly.

"You look pretty like that, don't worry." he snarled.

"What's this are you fucking hitting on me?" You reply sarcastically, scoffing a laugh as your wounds continue to bleed out.

"Yeah, flash me a tity, bitch. Fuck, no!" he exclaims.

"PLEASE just call an ambulance" you beg him, feeling tears swelling up in your eyes. It's not the time for stupid banter.

He remains quiet for a while.

You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, heavy and suffocating. There's something undeniably sadistic about the way he looks at you, as if he's savoring every moment of your discomfort.

"You're really that fucking annoying huh?" he mocks.

"Yeah getting stabbed does things to you y'know" you sigh.