Chained - Cannibalistic love

Chapter 17

I silently stand in the warm water of the shower. My mind replaying the moment I killed her. Over and over again. Like a broken disk, replaying the same moment again and again. I took someone's life away from them. I'm a murderer. I feel her warm blood coating my skin and clothes, I watch as her eyes widen as she falls to the floor. I watch her grab onto the last bits of her life before she goes still. dead. Her eyes wide open staring up at me, making me feel guilty for what I was made to do. There is no excuse for killing her. Her blood will forever stain my hands.

Even in the shower I can feel the tears rolling down my face, which I'm sure is bright red. I, long ago, discarded my blood covered clothing before entering the bathroom. I know Ryan was happy with what I had done, unlike me. The moment we got back to the house I ran up the stairs, pulling my shirt off my body, not once looking at the blood that I knew stained the front. Behind me I heard Ryan enter the room, but I didn't care. I struggled to take off the jean shorts but when I did, I discarded those too and ran into the bathroom. I have no idea how long I have been here for, but I know it's been a while. I just let my numb body stay under the warm water. Her dead unseeing eyes staring at me. The guild I have is torturous. I had no reason for killing her. I could have fought Ryan, could have endured his punishments. But I did nothing. Afraid of what would happen to me if I fought against him. The cuts on my arm and foot had hurt bad enough, but now, they too, were numb. There was no painful ache as I stood in the shower. No stinging. Nothing. Just the flashes from before replaying on a loop, the moment I took her life. Again, I replay the feeling of her warm red blood hitting my body, splashing me in the face. Again, and again. Over and over again. The red, warm, thick, sticky blood lands on my body. The front of my shirt has the most, but I feel it land on my arms, my legs, and my face. I can still feel it. I feel it all happening over and over like a broken record player buffering the same scene in my head again and again.

Ugly tears continue running down my cheeks as I lean against the wall, bending my head down in defeat. My wet hair clumping beside my head as the water continues to pour onto my head.

That's when something in me snapped. Picking up the soap and loofa I begin scrubbing. First my legs. I feel the blood still there as I keep scrubbing. The water has washed the blood away already, but I know it's still there. I have to get it off me!

Next, I move onto my right arm as I viciously scrub, I'm sure I'm removing all the barely healing scabs, but I don't care. I then move onto my left arm scrubbing even more viciously as this was the hand, I used to cut her throat with. But it doesn't seem to do anything. I let out a scream of frustration as I continue scrubbing, harder and harder. I need to get it off. My hands still red, coated in blood as I continue scrubbing at them too now.

I let out a loud cry as I keep scrubbing at my arms and legs. Letting out frustrated screams. Somewhere far away I hear a frantic knocking on the door, but I keep scrubbing. I just have to get it off me. Just need to get the blood off me. I have to get it off me! I keep going, harder and harder. And then before I can keep scrubbing at my legs the loofa is ripped from my hands and the water turned off. Reality seems to come back to me as I look up at Ryan's wide, worried filled, eyes. Defeated I fall to the shower floor sobbing loudly as I hold my painful legs tightly to my body. I can feel his gentle hands wrap a towel around my shoulders, which I huddle close to my chest as he carries me out of the shower. I let him pull a white nightgown over my naked body and tuck me into bed. I don't fight against him. Too tired, both physically and emotionally. I don't even care that he saw me naked.

~

The next morning, I noticed the bathroom door knocked off its hinges and on the floor. That must have been how he got in last night seeing as I knew I had locked the door. Getting out of bed I look at my aching arms which I had rubbed raw last night. I don't need to look at my thighs to know that they too are raw. Just as I'm about to get up and come down for breakfast the door opens. Looking up I see Ryan is holding a tray containing a plate and a glass. The plate is filled with bacon and eggs on toast, and it looks like the glass contains orange juice. I drain the juice quickly before turning back to the food. I study the bacon suspiciously for several moments before looking up at him waiting for him to tell me. With a small nod, he confirms my suspicions. Human. Yet it doesn't seem to bother me as much. I have been eating the meat for a few days now. And in all honestly, I enjoyed it. My mind flashes once more to last night, to the woman I killed but as soon as it started, I quickly closed the door to that part of my mind. Now is not the time. Last night I let all my frustration, anger and sadness out, and right now I'm hungry. With a small shrug, I begin eating the deliciously prepared meal. Including the meat which resembled bacon so much. If I just don't think about it, I can just enjoy the meal.