The Ragdoll

Sarah

Rachel Blair's body was disposed of inside of an old garbage can behind Emily's theater. She felt relieved that the woman who turned her into a monster was dead, but she still knew that the name would stick.

The Ragdoll.

No matter how many things she did wrong, Emily didn't want to be seen as a monster. She didn't see herself as a monster. All she saw herself doing was something that she needed to do in order to not go completely insane. Emily lay on her futon, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Was she a monster because she had an addiction? Lots of people had addictions. Smoking, drugs, television, food. Just because her addiction was murder didn't mean she was any more of a monster than any of those people. Emily's hands were folded on her stomach. She was half-asleep, dreaming about driving her switchblade into some poor soul's stomach. The bloodlust was twisting and pulling on her insides like always. She imagined people screaming at the mere sight of her stitches. She smiled, asleep now. Yes, murder was an addiction, but she couldn't kid herself. No matter how she tried to rationalize it, she loved what she did. It fueled her, it gave her a reason to go on. She was good at it, and she would do it again. Emily turned over to her side, dreaming, and still smiling at the thought of murder.

The woman turned the corner, screaming, running as fast as she could from Emily, the moonlight being the only thing guiding her. Emily chased her, sweat dripping down her forehead, her switchblade closed in her fist. She was the first thing that Emily saw when she left her theater. The perfect victim. But the downside was that this woman must have run track in high school because this was the first time that Emily had ever come close to running out of breath while hunting. Finally she backed the woman into a dead end. The woman was thin, almost as thin as Emily. She had blonde hair put up into a ponytail and carried a small purse on her shoulder. Emily stood feet away from the woman, looking to see what she would do. The woman threw her purse at her.

"Here! Take it!"

Emily started walking towards the woman who, in turn, started to scream again. Emily's blade flipped towards her, and found it's target in the woman's chest. The screaming subsided with each swift stick in the torso. Eventually the woman fell to the ground and bled out, pathetically whimpering. Emily looked down at her masterpiece, wiping the blood from her face. She licked her lips, tasting it. The bloodlust was content.

A voice from behind her yelled.

"FREEZE!"

Emily closed her eyes and a chill ran throughout her entire body, that feeling that someone would only feel when being caught doing something incredibly wrong, something they thought they could get away with. Emily slipped the switchblade into her pocket, and slowly turned around. A police officer was standing there, pointing a gun directly at Emily. He was young and shaking, his eyes open wide. He was scared. He knew who she was.

"P- put your hands in the air!"

Emily did as she was told, looking for any kind of solution.

"Get on the ground with your hands behind your back!"

There was no police car in sight. She knew he was alone. Once again, she obeyed.

The officer slowly walked toward Emily, still pointing his gun at her head. Once he got close enough, he put his gun in it's holster and retrieved his handcuffs. He squatted over Emily, and reached for her hands.

"You're going away for a long time, you sadistic bitch."

Emily put her hands out in front of her, slid forward, and kicked the officer in the groin as hard as she could. She made her escape as he doubled over in pain. She ran away from the dead end, turned more corners that she could count, running as fast as her feet could carry her. She needed to go somewhere where the police wouldn't find her. They were without doubt on her tail by now. She couldn't risk leading them back to her theater. She ran into an alley, looking for an entrance into the buildings that surrounded her. She chose a ladder. She climbed it, leading her to a fire escape. She looked through the window into the apartment. A middle-aged couple were eating a meal in candlelight. It looked romantic. Emily reared her elbow into the glass with full force, instantly shattering it. The couple were startled, unsure of what exactly was going on. Emily climbed into the apartment. The had a nice home, they could clearly afford better. Maybe they refused to leave the city. Pity. Moving would have done them some good right about then. As soon as the man realized what was happening, he grabbed his wife by the arm and they ran into the kitchen, slamming the door behind them.

Emily rolled her eyes. It was never fun when they didn't make it easy for her. She opened the door to the kitchen to find them cowering in the corner, the man protecting the woman.

"Stand up," she said to them. They didn't move. Emily could hear the woman weeping.

She flipped open her switchblade.

"Stand up, please," she repeated. They obeyed this time, standing as slowly and as carefully as they could. Emily walked up to them and spoke to them quietly.

"Now what's gonna happen now is that I'm gonna stay here until I feel like it's safe for me to go home. You two aren't gonna scream, you two aren't gonna cry. If I hear so much as a peep come from either of you, the other is dead. Got it?"

Both of them nodded.

"Okay then."

For what seemed like forever, the three stood in the couple's kitchen. Emily was just about ready to leave when it seemed like the woman was about to break. Tears were streaming down her face, she was shaking and pale as a ghost. She looked like she wanted to scream. Both Emily and the man noticed this immediately. The man looked at her as if to say 'keep quiet.'

Emily smirked, hoping she would crack. She twirled her blade in her hand, touching the point with the tip of her finger, almost as if to taunt the woman. Despite her almost getting caught, the bloodlust still needed to be fed. The woman closed her eyes and held her breath, her face turned blue trying to keep it in. And then with one movement Emily made, it all came out.

Emily tapped the blade softly on the counter, causing a soft clink sound.

"HELP ME! ANYO-"

She was cut off by the man, who slapped his hand over her mouth. She held onto his arm and sobbed, knowing that she failed him and herself. Emily reached out and grabbed the man by the head. The woman screamed and cried, begging Emily to not do what she was about to do. She dragged him over to where she was, and slammed his head down on the counter top. He screamed in agony when his skull hit the marble. Emily picked his head up, and slammed it down harder. Blood oozed from his nose. As soon as Emily saw him lift a hand, she put her blade through it and he stayed still. Emily slammed over and over again, until blood was bursting from his skull and he was almost unrecognizable. Emily dropped him to the ground, and stomped on his neck, crushing it and killing him.

Emily turned to the woman, her (Emily's) shirt covered in the man's blood. She cracked her neck, pointed her blade outward, and stabbed her in the stomach until she slid down the wall and died as pointless as she lived.

Emily stood over her victims and closed her eyes, taking in all the death and destruction she had caused. She loved it, every bit of it. She could almost taste the death, she could almost taste all the sorrow. She smiled, enjoying where she was and what she did, stuck in her trance.

Until something broke her out of it.

A voice.

A small, confused voice that came from behind her.

"Mommy?"

Fear ran through every bone in Emily's body as she turned around to face what she hoped wasn't there.

A child. A small girl that looked about nine or ten.

She looked around the kitchen, looking at her parents and at Emily. But Emily noticed something strange about the girl's expression. There wasn't one bit of fear on her face. She looked confused, she looked almost curious and intrigued.

Emily did the only thing her mind told her to do; acting fast she slipped her blade back into her pocket, fast-walked towards the girl, scooped her up in her arms, and stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Emily plopped the child on the sofa, and kneeled down to face her. Still, the child didn't look frightened.

The girl reached her hand out and touched Emily's cheek. She caressed Emily, running her fingers back and forth over her swollen and infected stitches. The girl crooked her head to the side and smiled at Emily.

Just then something odd happened inside Emily. She felt strange, like she was about to cry.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"Emily," she replied.

The girl took her hand off of Emily's face and placed it on her own chest.
"Sarah."

Emily smiled and took the girl's hand.

"Nice to meet you. Sarah."