March 5th, 1998
She awakes to a painful throbbing throughout her entire body. She waits a few seconds to open her eyes, thinking the pain is just from a terrible hangover. When she does open her eyes, she is terribly confused. The room she is in is not her own. It is black and white, the furniture is simple and scarce, and everything is perfect. Too perfect.
A man walks into the room. He has long wavy brown hair and a pained look on his face. Thomas.
"W- Thomas! What did you do?! I-I oh god..."
She is frantic now. Her mind is racing through the events of last night. He raped her. Viciously.
"I'm sorry. I- please let me explain... The voices... They kept... They..."
He is crying now. He cannot put his sickness into words. He is scared, genuinely terrified, and Delilah sees it. She sighs. She cannot turn him in, something within her tells her that it really was not his conscious decision, and she cannot turn him in.
But she will not let him off easy.
"Take me home."
"Delilah plea-"
"Take. Me. Home."
So he does. He walks her home without another word and goes back to his home where the voices torment him. He is lucky, tonight they don't plague him with visions of Delilah, but they do throw slurs and derogatory remarks his way.
He needs to kill. Not for them, for himself. He feels angry, which is an emotion that has not plagued him for some time.
He waits until night and goes to a local club. A man is sitting alone at a bar stool. He knows it is a long shot, but he decides to give it a try.
"What's a handsome man like you doing alone in a place like this?"
The man looks mortified. At first, Thomas believes that once again he's ruined a chance to real in a perfectly good victim due to his unorthodox preferences.
"We- uh can't talk here man. Not... Not like that but..."
He lowers his voice and leans in a little closer.
"I can take you home and we can continue this conversation"
Thomas smiles. He completely understands and allows the man to lead him out of the club and towards his home.
Everything after is a blur for Thomas. There is sex, he knows. He remembers ejaculating several times inside of the man and allowing the man to do the same.
He remembers blood.
In his mind as he walks home in the morning, there is blood. He smells the tangy copper smell and tastes the sweet metal taste on his tongue. He sees flashbacks of his nails digging into flesh to draw blood. He sees teeth sinking in to leave marks.
But he does not remember a body.
Instead he just remembers rough sex and pain for both parties. He does not remember killing the man. His bulge is about to burst from his pants with the memories of how he hurt the man.
But he did not kill him.
Because he couldn't take another life.
YOU ARE READING
State Of Mind
Mystery / Thriller"He stands in the rain, bloody and bruised, watching as the crimson liquid intermingles with the precipitation and flows down the storm drain. The voices have finally calmed down, and his mind is clear..."
