Falling For A Murderer

Tricks and lies

Allie pov

My head pounded as I peeled open my eyelids. My brain felt as if it was in a drug induced haze. I remembered the dream and what had happened after. Charlie had taken me again, Xander was going to get me back again. It was feeling like a constant thing now. Charlie, Xander, Charlie, Xander, Charlie. It was as if I was stuck in the Bermuda triangle. Forever repeating the same cycle, over and over again. It needed to stop once and for all. And I had to be the one to stop it.

The door opened a slither and light flooded into the small room I was in. My breath caught in my throat and I gulped down the fear that had started to rise in my throat. My heart was beating rapidly and I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. Footsteps  came towards me, echoing off the stone floors, stopping at my bedside.

A hand grazed my cheek and I fought to slow my heart rate and erratic breathing. The hand traveled lower, grazing across my chest and stomach, before lifting and settling on my right arm. The hands felt rough, as if they had been handling hard jobs all of their life. Or maybe he hadn't moisturized after tying me to the bed, maybe he got rope burn. I didn't know, all I knew was that I had to get out of here. I had to get all of this over with.

Cool metal touched my arm. The metal of a knife. My eyes flew open in fear.

Charlie looked down at me. He wasn't smiling, instead the deepest scowl rested on his face, conforming his usually softer features into something harsh and fearful. Silver flashed in my peripheral vision and I saw the smooth, yet sharp edge of a knife. The knife came down.

I gasped, screamed even. His hand slapped over my mouth, muffling my screams. My heartbeat increased so frantically that I thought, I truly thought that it would burst fourth in a single rush out of my chest.

Then something that I didn't expect happened, the ropes confining me to the bed, snapped. No, not snapped, cut. Cut with what could have only been done with a sharp knives blade. The same sharp knife that I  thought would be the ultimate cause of my death. I breathed a sigh of relief against his rough palms and he slowly removed his hand from my mouth, as if unsure whether I would start another screaming session.

His face softened ever so slightly as he looked down upon me, eyes filled with love. Love that I could never return. I told you that I loved him in the beginning, but I'm a liar. I have cheated and lied since the beginning of this lovely story my dears and you all fell for it. To me, it's all just a game.

"Charlie." I whispered, staring into his eyes.

He sat beside me on the bed, letting the knife rest on his thigh. He looked down, expression somber, "Allie, why?"

I touched his cheek, my fingers hitting the salty wetness of tears that had already started to slide down his cheeks.

"Charlie, I'm sorry."

His head came up in a rush, the knife was already in my hand though. He was too late. Blood sputtered from his throat in a rush as I swooped the knife gracefully, skillfully across the delicate skin of his throat.

His eyes held so much emotion as he looked into my eyes, my eyes void of any emotions. Betrayal, sadness, anger, love, so many emotions flashed in his eyes. His eyes slowly lost their light. He slumped onto me, bleeding out on the white gown I was wearing. Blood was on him, on my hands, on my gown, the bed. Blood was everywhere. I lay down whispering to myself that finally, finally Charlie was dead.

*********

I dragged the corpse to another room in the house. I laid him on a metal table and got some utensils from the first aid kit in his house and some needles and thread I found in a sewing kit when I had gone snooping around. I washed the blood off his throat with a washcloth and then proceeded to stitch the deep gash back together.

My stitches were skillful, my hand controlled and precise with each swoop of needle and thread. As if I had done this before, done this all my life. I finished him up and put him into a fresh white button up shirt, with black dress pants, a black suit jacket, shiny black dress shoes, and a black bow tie. I greased back his hair and closed his eyes.

I cleaned everything up before placing him in a wheelchair, which I also found while snooping around. I took him to the elevator and then to the balcony in another room. I tied a rope into a noose and wrapped it around his neck, then I tied the rope to a banister on the pole and pulled him onto the balcony sides. I kissed him on the cheek and shoved him off the balcony.

I watched as his neck split back open and smiled. The remaining blood in his body spewed out and I laughed maniacally.

I closed the door of the balcony and cleaned myself up. I then proceeded to slosh gasoline all over the building and then as I lit the match, I glanced up at his swinging body. His eyes were closed peacefully, he looked perfect swinging in the wind. His weight dragged down the rope. I threw the lit match into the door of the house and walked away.

I took one last glance backwards, the house now burning to ash and whispered, "Looks like you fell for the murderer."