Psycho

Chapter Thirty-Three: Masked Massacre

He walked around the bed and got in at the other side, now I was in the same bed as a psychopath, great. Luke scooted a little closer to me, I could feel his breath fanning across my face. His large hand came up and cupped my cheek that wasn't covered by the pillow.

"I know you're not asleep, babe."

My breath hitched in my throat. But still kept my eyes shut. I could here the smirk in his voice by the way he spoke. I gripped my sleeve of my hoodie in anticipation, waiting for him to give up and go to sleep.

"Silent treatment? Wow. Very mature, Miss Rose."

I felt him shift in the bed, turning around onto his side, I peaked an eye open to see his bare and muscular back facing me. The moonlight lit up a bit of the room, the window cut off the light that would of been shining on me, instead it was only shinning on Luke's half of the bed. What shocked me was the small scratches, scars and cuts from being branded by the hot iron for his sedation, covering his back. I tried not to gasp or make any noise to prove I was awake.

"Jesus.." I thought.

Half an hour later and I was still wide awake. Lying on my back as I stared up at the brown wooden ceiling. But a rush of thirst for water flood through me. I always crave water late at night, but I was craving coffee earlier, I didn't even get to have it.

"L-Luke?" I whispered, lifting a finger to poke his back.

"Mmphh.." He mumbled into his pillow.

"Do you have a fridge?"

He let out a vibrating laugh. "Of course I do."

I sighed and got out of the warm bed, trekking towards the kitchen. The kitchen was pitch black with a strong stench of a mix of rotten egg and metallic smell. There was a small and dirty looking fridge in the back corner of the room - which I walked over to. I wanted to scream at the sight before me, I wanted to throw up at the disgusting sight of the fridges shelves were different human parts, some disorientated, some covered in blood, some just normal. A range of arms, legs, feet, hands, even some stomach intestines, sat on the shelves, even a couple of jars filled with eyeballs, fingers and toes - preserved in some sort of unclean and foggy water - like it was scooped into a pond.

Tears started to brim my eyes at the sight. There was no piece of human food or drink. All I wanted was a bottle or glass of ice cold water. The stench was unbearable, I shut the door fridge and went to walk back to the bedroom with my hand clamped over my mouth, but I had bumped into Luke. His eyes were black again, his chest was heaving up and down with a clenched jaw.

"I see you found my stash." Luke spoke darkly.

I gulped and nodded, "W-Why.. why do you ha-have that?" my voice came out weak.

"Do you want me to starve to death?" He stated, like it was obvious.

"You e-eat that?!" I exclaimed - my eyes widening at the thought of Luke eating arms and hands for his fucking dinner.

"Well duh." With a roll of his eyes, he stalked past me and slammed the fridge door shut. "Did you want water?"

"Y-Yes." I whispered, looking down at my bare feet.

Luke walked over to a cupboard and fetched a glass, but it didn't even look clean. "Is tap water alright for you, princess?"

"Yes," I repeated. "Please."

He held the glass underneath the tap faucet, twisting the knob. I watched in horror as the thick, dark red liquid came pouring out the tap. Blood.

How is that even possible?

"Oopsy daisy." He turned to look at me with a smirk on his face -- giggling like a little girl afterwards, he knew there'd be blood.