Psycho {H.S.}

Five

"Chris. Wake the f*ck up!" A loud voice booms above me and my body is urgently shaken. My eyes shoot open and I'm up within seconds.

I throw the blanket from my body and my legs are like noodles as I flail to stand. I brush the crazy hair out of my eyes and look up at the body in front of me frantically.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" I say worriedly. Harry stares at me with a look of boredom and he folds his arms over his chest. I analyze the floor and discover two duffle bags lying beside him.

"We're leaving." He states and bends down, grabbing a pair of slippers and throwing them at me. The plush slippers hit my stomach and fall to the floor.

"We can't leave. Are you crazy? They'll catch you!" I say and I attempt to brush my hair by running my fingers through it.

"You're not really a morning person, are you?" He states sarcastically and starts picking up the bags. I scoff, fixing my tanktop.

"You'll tell them that we had sex. I was your one night stand, and now you are driving me home." He says so simply. The words flow out of his mouth like butter. So easily that I feel like he's said this before somehow.

"Uh, I don't know about that-"

"You don't have a fucking choice! When you're with me, you never get a choice." He barks across the room and his fists tighten around the duffle bags. I flinch slightly and my body slumps.

I learned in class to never deny the requests of a killer. Do whatever they say in order to survive. I've never thought in a million years that I'd be in this situation. I let out a long drawn out sigh and start making my way for the door. I grab the keys from the side table and Harry chuckles behind me, heavy footsteps mocking me.

I open the door regretfully. A thought gnaws at the back of my mind, 'what if this is the last time I see this place?' But I cannot focus on these negative thoughts if I plan on getting away.

"Well I must say, I'm not wearing the most appropriate attire for a kidnapping. If you would have informed me earlier, I would have at least brushed my teeth." I joke and start laughing, practically slapping my knee. My eyes crinkle and I choke a little on my own breath. I cough slightly and pull myself back up straight and slowly go back to a serious face.

Harry's face remains stone cold. "Does this seem like the time to joke, Chris? Open the door." He says and I swallow the lump in my throat. Without saying another word, I nod in his direction and pull the door open.

Many of the police officers have departed back to their stations, and only a select few, maybe 5 stay behind to gaurd the perimeter. They don't take crimes lightly here.

My palms start to sweat and I avoid all possible eye contact with authority as I exit my apartment. Harry closes the door behind us and we both stare at the floor as we begin our way to my car.

When we were only a few feet away, a tall man steps in front of me, nearly knocking me down and I can hear Harry growl under his breath. He keeps his composure quite well, though.

"Hi, I'm officer Randall, I'm going to need to ID you both." I look to Harry nervously and ask him with the raise of an eyebrow for direction. He already seems to have everything planned out because he calmly pulls two laminated cards from his pocket. He hands them between two fingers to the police and he takes them with a smug look.

His eyes scan over the card several times and I'm literally shitting bricks. If this goes wrong, I could be charged for associating and or housing a murder/psycho! But it was not by choice! I hope they know that!

"Okay Ms. Claufield, Mr. Claufield. You two be safe now, and when you come back check in alright." The officer informs us and a huge weight feels as if it's been lifted off of my shoulders. Thank god he didn't see through my terrible acting skills. Harry clutches my arm rather roughly and drags me to continue walking.

"Ouch! Let go you bitch!" I whisper in a angrily way. Harry's breathing hitches and his hand clenches tighter and tighter. He stops walking and whips my body to face his. His arm is clutched to my forearm and he starts squeezing harder and harder. I wince and my knees become weak.

"Stop, stop!" I yell and before I know what's happening, my knees buckle and I pass out cold.

-

The earth around me seems to be moving. My eyes flutter open greeting the bright moon across the sky. I yawn and sit up completely. Only then do I realize that I'm in a car. I turn to my side to see that it all was in fact not a nightmare. Sighing, I adjust myself as I sit up. A sharp pain stabs through my arm and I look at it. When I see five purple fingerprints embedded in my pale skin I begin breathe heavily. He did this to me. Harry did this to me.

"Does it hurt?" Harry speaks, pulling me from the pain in my arm.

"Yes," I mumble submissively. I lightly skim my fingers against the abused skin. They send a dull pain through my arm. The car hits a bump and my fingers press down a little too hard.

"Ouch! F*ck!" I scream and pull my hand away. My eyes lightly water, but I refuse to let myself show weakness in front of Harry. That's what he wants.

"Good. You never call me bad names. Ever!" Harry says through gritted teeth and focuses his eyes on the road ahead of him.

I peer out I the car window and see absolutely nothing in sight for miles. Just open road and desert.

"Where are we?" I ask curiously and turn to Harry. He has a calm, straight look on his face as the words flow from his mouth.

"Were going to Vegas, baby."