The Bride of Brahms

Chapter 20

"You seem kind of phony, everything's a lie." - Not Your Kind of People, Garbage

I swallowed hard and tried to even my breathing, despite my fear. I hugged the doll protectively to my chest as Malcolm's leering gaze traveled down my body. I remembered what I was wearing and fully regretted my short-sightedness; Malcolm literally just drugged me the night before and I escaped him, of course he would be back to search the only place I could go. Now he found me, wearing this dress that revealed just about everything – a view that was never intended for him.

"You seem surprised to see me." Malcolm continued, advancing toward me. I stepped away from him, keeping the doll clutched to my chest for security. I resolved to keep calm and aloof; I wasn't about to show him how he affected me, and I was sure the more distant I seemed then he would lose interest. I lifted my chin in an arrogant way and regarded him cooly.
"It's not Tuesday, Malcolm. So, while your visit may be unexpected, coming from you its not surprising in the slightest." I said icily.

Malcolm paused, a crooked smile played across his lips while his eyes remained vacant, before stepping toward me again.
"You disappeared last night, of course I wanted to come by and check on you. We're friends, Cora, and I care about your well-being." He said without any hint of concern, his small smile growing into a creepy grin. It took everything I had not to visibly shudder in disgust.
"Friends?" I scoffed, "Friends don't put drugs in your drink, Malcolm." I continued to walk backward to keep my distance from him, and we began to circle the kitchen table in a dance of cat and mouse.

He simply laughed at my accusation, and it made my stomach drop. "Oh please, that was just to get you to relax." He said dismissively "You're so uptight, don't act like it's such a big deal."

I glanced at the iron-cast pan hanging on the wall and fought back the urge to grab it and beat the crap out of this creep. It was obvious now that he didn't care about what he did, and this was the real Malcolm all along. The 'nice guy' persona was just a façade to mask his true nature, yet somehow I knew it was fake. At least now I see his true colors before it was too late, I thought to myself.

Malcolm continued talking while following me around the table. "Besides...you can hardly blame a man for trying. I know you must be all by your lonesome out here, and I could be so good to you Cora." His eyes trailed down the length of my body again, and he licked his lips greedily. This time I really couldn't suppress the disgusted shudder that ran through my body. His eyes paused on the doll and he smirked slightly.
"You can't be getting too much pleasure from hanging around a doll all day...unless you're into that sort of thing." His smirk widened into an unsettling smile and I decided enough is enough; I had to be direct and shut this guy down for good.

"Your advances are unwelcome and I definitely am not interested in you, Malcolm. This has always been strictly professional between us, and if you got the impression of something more then that is your own fault. What you did to me is disgusting and horrible, and I will never fuck you – so get over it." I snapped at him, and then decided on a whim to throw in a subtle threat as a last resort.
"If you continue to harass me, then I'll have no choice but to inform the Heelshires about your actions."

Malcolm laughed again, and it was a harsh and hollow sound that echoed off the kitchen walls. "You think they'd care about what a little twat like you has to say? The Heelshires have known me for years – I'm practically the son they didn't get to have!" He shot back arrogantly, and pointed at the little porcelain boy I was holding. "All they care about is that thing and making sure you do your job. You're replaceable, Cora. A means to an end."

He suddenly stopped pursuing me, his demeanor changing. He looked exasperated while continuing to stare at my chest. "I just don't...what do you want me to say, Cora? What do I have to do to make you want me, huh?" He whined at me. 

I could feel my face twist into a revolted grimace; he wasn't just a creep, he was a delusional pervert that felt justified in his actions. Malcolm was a whole different breed of people, and we would fundamentally never see eye to eye. I would have pitied him had he not been such a disgusting jerk.

I opened my mouth to retort but stopped. It was small and subtle but I definitely heard it; a small scratching sound within the walls.

Brahms was here.

A new kind of fear rose within me just then. If Brahms had heard anything Malcolm had just said, which he probably had, then he was going to kill him. I had seen first-hand what kind of violence Brahms was capable of, and I could feel the murderous intent just oozing from the walls. The small thumps were growing louder as he approached, and I began to panic. Malcolm was certainly an asshole but that didn't mean he deserved to die for it.

Besides, I had enough blood on my hands – I don't think I could carry another death on my conscious.

"You need to leave." I muttered flatly, my eyes wide and darting along the walls as I tried to discern where Brahms was headed. Unfortunately, Malcolm misinterpreted the reason for my mood change and flashed a fake, disarming smile.
"Come now, Cora, we can talk this out..." He attempted to reason with me, but while he spoke, I heard the groan of a wall panel opening in the next room. I realized Malcolm wouldn't make it out of here alive if he stayed any longer

"I. SAID. LEAVE!" I bellowed. I felt a wave of energy release from my body and kitchen spoons flew off the wall rack as Malcolm stumbled backward from the force. He looked at me, his eyes wide with shock and confusion, clearly unable to comprehend what had happened just now.

I swallowed hard, sweat beading my brow as he continued to stand there and gawk at me. I planned to never use this ability – no, this curse – ever again, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

A few more moments passed of us staring each other down, until Malcolm finally turned without a word and fled out the side door. A huge wave of relief crashed over me as I heard him start his car and tear off down the drive.

My relief was short lived, however, as I felt an unmistakable presence approach me from behind. Brahms's hard chest suddenly met the back of my head, and the hair on my arms and neck stood on end as I felt a large, calloused palm glide across my throat and grip me gently.

It reminded me that I was now at the mercy of a depraved and powerful killer.