Lucky and the Killer ✔

Bound

Fingertips grazed her skin. They were soft and light but traced from her forehead, down her nose, and to her lips—as if someone were petting her. She flinched and opened her eyes. It was him.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," King said.

Lucky remembered the walk home and bolted up-right, or at least, she tried to. Ropes twisted around her, and all she could really do was stare at the rocky, bare chest in front of her.

"Wh-what are you doing? Who are you? Where in the world am I?"

King let out a sigh as he crouched in front of her and blocked most of her view. He stretched out his hand and felt of her hair. It was soft...just the way he remembered it.

"I'm going to kill you," he said as he stood back up, "...princess."

Panic started to root inside of her. It flooded her cheeks like pins and needles. It made her palms wet with sweat.

Anna was right. She should have never walked home alone. She should have never even talked to him. She wanted to get something of her old self back, but this wasn't the kind of something she wanted.

She thought he was cute not psycho. She wasn't ready to die—not like that. She had to think of something, but all she found herself doing was crying. Tears leaked down her skin and stuck under her chin.

"Please," she begged, "let me go. I'll do whatever you want. I just...don't, don't kill me."

He stared down at her knees and bare feet. Whatever he wanted? She couldn't give him what he wanted. What he wanted was worlds away and in another time. What he wanted was the past, and the past was gone forever. It was buried in the ground beneath clay and bones and worms.

"Shut up," he said and nudged her body with his foot so that she wasn't facing him anymore. He couldn't look at her green eyes without getting sick. They used to look at him with love. They used to look at him and smile. They used to look at him and lie.

Lucky bit her lip to keep from screaming. She wanted to cover her mouth or tug her skirt further down, but her hands weren't hers anymore. Her purse was gone. Her shoes were gone. She didn't even recognize the place. Why would she, though? She had to think of some way out.

King walked over to the table where he kept her things. He picked up her phone but turned it off so that the thirty missed calls and messages weren't staring him in the face. He looked at the bare apartment where he'd been holed up—just looking for her. Could he do it? After all this time, could he actually kill her?

She was so good at being human. She thought she was human. There was just something about the way she looked at him that reminded him of Liz, and it stole his resolve. What was worse was that she didn't remember him at all. She had no idea who she really was or what she'd done to him and his family. He'd been able to kill the others so fast. Why couldn't he just get it over with?

"I'm going out," he said and shook his head. "You'll be here when I get back. I've waited a long time to get you back, and I don't plan on looking for you again. Clear?"

Lucky's head throbbed. "What did I do?"

King's eyes rolled up to the ceiling in laughter. "Ha, who am I kidding? Just stay put."

Lucky heard the door shut. Then, the tears came. She wailed and screamed against the floor, but only the dusty wall heard. He was acting like he knew her. He waited a long time to get her? She didn't even know him. This guy was crazy. She wasn't anybody worth killing. She worked at a print shop and sat on computers all day. She never did anything. She never did anything wrong...she thought.