Whispers of a Killer

Sorry I Stabbed You

When I start to wake up, I see that it's still dark out. One of the windows must be open, because I can smell the Autumn air flowing through. It's cold, and smells a lot like the woods. A smell I find strangely comforting despite where I am at right now. Most likely because I used to be a country girl when I was little. Back when I had a chance to be.

When I shift around a little, I notice that there's an arm around my stomach. Another, just under my chest. Besides that, I'm pretty sure I can feel his chin nuzzled against the crook of my neck.

If it were not for the fact that he scares the hell out of me and is more than okay with murdering me at any given time, I think I could attempt to enjoy this more. Because... I honestly never thought this would happen to me.

Someone holding me while I sleep; all curled up to me in the perfect way for our bodies to just sort of fit together, and hugging me like they never want to let me go...

That, and I guess you could say that I expected even less for it to be a murderer that would be the one clinging to me. I actually don't think that he realizes that he is - if he knew, I think he would have let go of me. Maybe. I still don't have any idea for certain, why he even brought me here; although I am beginning to come to my own conclusion about it.

I really think he's been lonely...but doesn't want to admit it to himself. I would ask him, but I would really rather not piss him off. I have a really bad feeling that asking would do exactly that.

Every now and then, he shifts. I almost begin to wonder if he's having some kind of nightmare, when I get my answer.

"Ow!" Pain shoots through my shoulder blade; a mix of a burning sensation and the feeling of something warm and sticky following it. I sit up and try to pull away from him as best as I can, not caring now if I wake him up. "What the hell was that for?!" I ask, trying to reach where he stabbed me so I can try to stop the blood.

"What..?" Jeff's voice is groggy and tired, as he sits up and frowns, lifting his sleeping mask off one eye.

"You stabbed me!" I frown, still trying to stop the blood. "I think...I think you were having a bad dream or..or something.." I wince, unable to stop from crying now because it hurts so bad.

"I what?" He asks, still seeming to be too tired to be entirely coherent.

"You stabbed me!" I repeat, this time I'm more frantic about it, because I hate blood so much; that, and I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of a crybaby when it comes to pain. I just can't take a lot of it.

"You stabbed me. I don't know why, but you stabbed me. And it hurts. And I'm bleeding. Oh lord..there's blood everywhere..." my voice trails off into a sort of whine, slightly squeaking from how upset I am.

"Oh shit.." I hear him mutter, before he takes his mask off entirely and leaves the room. When he comes back, he sits on the bed again beside me, moving my hair out of the way.

"Take your shirt off and lay down." He tells me, the first time not nearly so snappy as the second. "For fuck's sake, take your damn shirt off and lay down! Unless you want to bleed to death."

There's a tone of disdain in his voice that says he doesn't really care if I do or not; that he is likely just taking care of me to shut me up and get me to stop bleeding on his bed. Reluctantly, I take my shirt off and wince. The movement stings, causing a sound of pain to squeeze out of me again. When I try to lay down, it's not any better. I have to bite my lip hard, to try to keep myself from crying too much.

When I've finally complied with his demands, I can feel where he's crawled over and sat on my rear so he can get a better look at the damage he inflicted. It feels strange to me, especially when he moves. I try not to say anything about it, despite the fact that my face is probably glowing pink right now.