THE UNEXPECTED KILLER [G!P]

Chapter 36

Becky's pov.

The doctor scribbled something with force on his clipboard, as he turned to face Freen.

"Your vitals seem to be fine, you n..."

"You know, doctor, I don't actually give a fuck." Each word spoken slowly, softly, emphasized to cut deeper.

The doctor sighed, probably too accustomed to it by now. He turned to me, shooting me a quick, forced smile, "You must be Miss Armstrong? I'll send someone in, they'll be with you shortly. Please, excuse me." Without as much waiting for a reply, he turned on his heels, leaving the room swiftly. I couldn't blame the poor guy.

Then, it was just Freen and me.

I felt a chill of fear travel down my spine, wondering if plastic ducts were a good enough substitute for metal hand cuffs. I discreetly looked around my periphery to see if there were any sharp objects, things that could be used as weapons.

Don't let Freen Chankimha get to you, Becky. Stop letting her get into your mind.

"Describe your childhood." I asked Freen assertively.

The complacent look from Freen's face vanished almost immediately. She turned her face away from me, going back to staring at the plain wall, much like earlier that evening.

"Freen, I need to know." I stressed. "What happened? What happened to your family? What trauma did you go through?"

Freen tilted her head back to my side, keeping her face emotionless, as if she was studying me. As if I'm the one to be observed. As if I was the crazy one.

"Freen, did your parents hit you? Were your s..."

"My father wore the most outrageous pair of copper rimmed glasses."

There was a moment of pure stunning silence. I was positively stupefied. Was it real? Was Freen Chankimha actually opening up?

"My mother...." she continued, eyes staring off into a random spot down on the bed.

"....I think she had red hair. But sometimes I also see it as dark."

I was transfixed. I didn't know whether I was hallucinating or not, but I could swear there was a ghost of a smile on Freen's face, "I do remember my mother's smile." Seeing the pure little upturn of Freen's lips, almost brought a tiny smile of my own. At that time, there existed no murders, no psychopaths; only a real symphony of marvel.

"And then I remember fire."

I imperceptibly flinched as the faint smile disappeared from Freen's lips, her features morphing into something so stoic. I reeled in the sudden change of atmosphere.

"10 years ago. It all burnt down. All of it. Every last bit." Freen stared into the same spot, desolation spilling from her soul.

My eyes raked down Freen's body, the charred skin. I could barely hold my breath any longer. I looked unquestionably damaged, feeling a little shred of sympathy for Freen that sat across from me.

My mind conjured up an image of a young child in a ring of fire, wrecked. While my vision may have been an exaggeration of reality, it may not have been very far from the horrors that Freen Chankimha could have been subjected to.

I looked at Freen.

Could this have led to her fostering a murderous alternate personality?

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