Tick Tock Part Four - The Mouse Fell Down

Unwelcome Rewards

The look on Kitty's face when she first saw Jack was heart wrenching, especially the way her lips trembled as the word "Daddy?" fell from her lips. Gavin held her back as she tried to run to him, quietly grumbling about how it wasn't Jack. It would be cruel to let her believe such a thing, but it really wasn't any better as she realised the truth of those words. Jack, of course, played it off as though he was hurt by the words, but Kitty was smart. After Gavin's warnings, she could see it. Though a distant memory now, her father had never smiled quite like that. There was a lingering uncanny valley feeling that came with looking at someone who was real, but not real. A copy. Despite the way she cowered from him, Jack was never rough or mean. Not in Gavin's sight, at least. Unfortunately, they weren't kept together.

Knowing they wouldn't part willingly, Gavin could only assume the room was flooded with some sort of toxin. Whatever it was, it didn't smell of anything, and it didn't seem to have any side effects besides making him feel groggy for the next few hours. When he woke up, he was back in his room and Kitty was gone. He also had a good hot meal waiting. Looking down at himself, he found he'd been cleaned up, too. The thick, cloying blood was gone. He was wearing tartan pyjama bottoms and a matching white top with a scotty dog stitched into the front. The same as the pyjamas Chloe had bought him. It seemed like a long time ago at this point. How long has it been? Three years? Four? Five? He hoped not five. His stomach churned as he considered it could be six.

Removing the silver cover, he found a slice of what looked like Shepard's pie and peas. The potato was crunchy and gold on top, and there was a healthy serving of gravy on the bottom. Steam still billowed from the surface, suggesting it had been put there recently. Gavin's mouth watered as he lifted the spoon and scooped a little meat and potato. It was good. Thick with flavour. It was like a hearty reward after his earlier hard work. A shiver ran through him at the memory, ice trickling down his spine. He could remember the warm stickiness on his skin, seeping through his top, crusting and drying on his hands.

"Gavin." His head shot up at the greeting, heart pounding with dread, but it was only Jack. Adrenaline made his fingers tremble as he tried to focus on eating. Measured steps crossed the room, and there were soon warm lips on his temple and a hand laced in his hair. "You did so well today, such a good job...He's pleased with you." He didn't need to clarify who. There was only one other person who mattered. Gavin's jaw tightened at that, spoon hesitating on the plate as he huffed a breath. Pleasing the Hickory Killer was the last thing on his mind. He'd done it for Kitty. No one else.

"Where's Kitty?" That was the most important thing. He didn't think the Hickory Killer would kill her yet. Not when he could still use her. That he'd killed Malcolm proved that he was willing to kill, given the right motivation. No way would he let that slip through his fingers. Gavin's chest fluttered, heart racing as he considered what would happen next. His mouth felt dry, anxiety twisting his stomach.

"She's safe. Don't worry so much...Do you really think I'd hurt my own daughter?" Gavin shuddered, pushing down the knee-jerk response that she wasn't his daughter. She was Jack's daughter, and Jack was dead. Looking at the man standing before him, it was hard to believe. How the Hickory Killer had managed it, he couldn't say, but the mannerisms and tone were uncanny. It was easy to slip up and forget. It would be a lie to say he hadn't let it happen sometimes, especially during their more intimate moments.

"N-no, but..." But you did let a serial killer loose in the same room.

"I trusted you to protect her, Gav, and you did." Jack sat beside him, leaning his chin on one hand and watching him eat. Though the food was good, it was hard to swallow while being watched. The thoughts swirling around in his head didn't help, either. What was the Hickory Killer planning? How long did he have before the next sick game started? Would Kitty be kept safe? It went without saying that she'd be terrified. She was locked up and alone, just like he was. Did she have a nice room like his, or was she still down there in that cramped, glass cell in the kill room? He shuddered at the thought. What would they do with Malcolm's body? It couldn't stay down there. What had they done with any of the bodies so far? Would finding them give the DPD a chance of finding him? He doubted it. The Hickory Killer had never been caught.