Twisted Psyche (Jeff the Killer Story)

(Rewritten) Chapter 4

Akeith:

Well fuck.

He knows my secret.

The man stalks towards me an amused glint in his eyes, and his forever smile was curved up wider in a smirk. I felt the strong urge to cut the flesh from his cheeks, then he wouldn't be able to smile.

Fucker.

"Well buddy-boy, this is quite an interesting turn of events." He cackles.

My back hits the wall, and i growl under my breath.

 I have nothing to defend myself with, and i can't fight the knife from him i was too wounded, i couldn't properly move one arm and the other was like a dead weight. But i needed to try and get the knife, if i don't try he'll continue to have the advantage.

The man takes his time stalking towards me, and i can feel my head getting light from blood loss. I could feel my body start to react to the blood leaving my body.

"Or should I say buddy-girl." He cackles finally standing in front of me.

I have to get out of here.

Something momentarily distracted him, and I quickly take my chance. I lunge forward before slamming my fist into his face, then grabbed up the arm that held the knife. I pry the knife from his grasp.

He lets out an enrage snarl, and before he can try and get his knife from me or do something to counter my attack, I slam the blade into his side. He lets out a pained grunt, and staggers back, I take that as my moment to escape. As I run out the door I grab up my flannel jacket and put it on, that way I can be sure to keep my secret from getting out completely.

As I run down the stairs I hear an enraged bellow, that shakes the walls. I don't waste any time running towards the door, as I go I see the woman that had been harassing me, dead on the floor, her throat slit, and her blood surrounding her in a puddle.

Well that's almost sad.

Almost

Hearing sirens I tense up.

Shit, the last thing I needed was to be in police custody.

My cover will be blown.

So without looking back I begin running as fast as I can through the alley ways. My head begins feeling light, and my vision begins to blur, the blood loss was starting to have its full affect on me.

After several minutes of running, I find myself at the feed store, leaning against the cold metal walls as I stitch my shoulder wounds. I always kept a needle and stitching thread on hand, because with all of the trouble I manage to get myself into, a needle and thread can make so much of a difference.

The 'pain' was annoying really, especially when my brain couldn't really figure out was to classify it as and let me react properly.

Ah congenital pain indifference you can be a pain, not literally obviously.

Normally people were born with this case, I wasn't. There were no recorded cases of congenital pain indifference i knew of where a person just developed it. I wasn't a normal case though.

When I had finished stitching my shoulders, I lay my head down on a near by feed bag. And shut my eyes for a moment, before opening them. I was tired, extremely so. I needed to hydrate myself and get some food to help with building my blood up.

I need to leave.

I'll go to the next city over, get a new job and a new apartment, start over for the 50,000th time.