Deadly Dreamer - Book One ✔️

Chapter 14

I highly recommend listening to My Friend of Misery by Metallica when reading this chapter. Not only is it a great song, but it relates to Danica and her emotions throughout.

I've added the lyrics version of the song at the start of this chapter for your leisure. It's dark and heavy at times, but it really has a good sound and feel for the chapter.

I will only recommend songs where the chapter has a need for it. This chapter is one of those instances.

I hope you enjoy it.

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Now that I know how and where I'm acquiring the details on my victims, I'm more nervous than ever about being caught. I realise that it's a smart place to do my research, but a really fucking stupid one all at the same time.

My career is basically on the line when I really allow myself to think about it. One wrong move and it will all fall apart and everyone will know that I am the face behind it all.

Whilst I'm processing these thoughts the cocky, self confident and surprisingly kick-ass side of myself is telling me that I've got nothing to worry about, we have been smart about keeping our identity a secret...but I still cannot help but worry.

What if I've left some sort of evidence at one of the crime scenes? What if something leads straight to me? I can't believe I haven't thought about much of this before now.

Although to be completely honest with myself, I've been trying my darnedest not to think about it. Can you really blame me? I've just been following the news updates like everyone else. I'm trying not to involve myself more than I already am. As hopeless as that strategy is.

Thinking about the news reminds me that I haven't had a look at anything in the media in a day or so. That's on the top of my agenda.

As soon as I get home that is.

Currently, I'm walking back in the cool, overshadowed, darkness of the morning sky. I've not seen any cars drive by yet, but I should pretty soon. Not everyone gets the weekend off work, I remind myself. This passing thought however, makes me decide to use more side streets so that I have less chance of being spotted.

Walking briskly towards Lake Station, I take as many short cuts as possible to minimise contact with other humans. I do realise that I'm speaking as though I'm not human myself, and I guess I don't feel as human lately. Considering my actions in the past two weeks, I don't feel as in touch with the real world as I used to. My emotions are betraying me, my body is acting differently, almost on it's own at times and my thoughts have run wild. Wild being an understatement.

I take the next passing subway towards home and return to my troubling thoughts.

I think it's fair that I call myself inhuman when it comes to my recent activities. Not that I'm totally out of touch. I still have a part of me that is a normal human being but the other part of me, is not.

It seems as though I'm numb to my actions when I'm attacking these people. I don't like to think about how calm and calculated my reactions are when I'm killing them. I do however like to think that they aren't exactly human themselves, but in a different way to me. These people prey on their victims, they get off on it, they do it for the thrill of the kill and their victims vulnerability, the fear that is emanating from them.

My motives however, seem to be more on the side of destroying the bad in the world, well Pasadena, at least. Gotta start small. It doesn't really make me feel any better though. I'm still a bad person in my own mind. Good people don't kill other people, whether it's for a good reason or not. It justifies nothing in my mind. I'm sick, I'm broken, I'm destructive.