RIGO

4

After he left, I walked back to my kitchen. My wound was still bleeding and it seemed to start to slow down a bit. I switched the paper towels for fresh ones and walked over to the dead body. I just stared down. This was only the second body I had killed and I was already tired of this. I sighed, ready to call the police.

My hand stopped on my cell phone, smearing blood all over the screen. I blinked slowly. For the first man, there was no court case. The man had no family and the case was open and shut. What if this man had a family? What if they thought I murdered him not in self-defense? What if calling this in ended in a trial that would last years and years and years. What if I have to get a lawyer? I'm only twenty. I can't go to jail.

My phone was still hovering on the phone so I picked it up. I opened it to the dial pad and pressed 9-1-1 and hovered my thumb over the green button. I looked down again. I suddenly wanted to get a look at his face. I lifted the mask off of his mouth and looked at the man. He was average looking, with average brown hair. He didn't have a defining mark on him like the previous man that tried to kill me. He did have the palest skin I ever did see. It was shining with sweat and looked so... clean and... innocent. I reached my hand towards the man and touched his skin. I was suddenly not in my home anymore.

I looked around. I was in a living room. I looked around. A woman walked towards me.

"He's gone," she cried and I- the man- leaned in to comfort her. I felt the pain of the child's death from the woman. I didn't feel any from the man. The man felt nothing.

I stopped touching the man. I took a deep breath and my curiosity overpowered the guilt of not honoring a dead person's privacy. I touched him again.

It was dark. And cold. These were the woods. A boy was clutching my hand. His touch felt warm through the cold air. It was all I wanted to feel.

I turned towards the little boy. His blue eyes looked at me. He wasn't afraid. He knew me. I felt so much for this boy. Was it love? I don't know. But he looked like me- the man. His brown hair matched my own.

"Daddy, what are we doing here?" A shiver went down my spine of pleasure.

I grabbed the boy and pulled him close. "Shhh." I touched the boys lips. I felt intrigued. I was turned on.

I let go of the man and stumbled back a bit. I didn't feel aroused anymore. I felt disgusted. I couldn't watch that. That was sick. I knew what he was about to do. The boy had the same blue eyes as the woman in the last one. He was her son. He was their son.

I walked to the trash and leaned down, chucking up everything in my stomach into the bin. Fuck.

I walked over to the man and I placed the mask back on his face. I made sure not to touch the man anymore. I turned towards my phone. The man- Death- called me a Seer. He thought I was purposely trying to kill people. And touching the man, I sort of got why.

My first kill allowed me to see bits of the future. This kill allowed me to touch the man and see bits of his past. It made me curious to see what I would get next. It wasn't bloodlust. Just morbid curiosity.

And my feeling of sickness was washed away. It was suppressed by the need to touch this man and see everything. Know everything about him. Maybe even better than he knew himself.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the body on my kitchen floor. I didn't feel much of the pain in my side anymore. It was a dull ache as if I had this injury for a thousand years and learned to embrace it. I got down on my knees but changed my mind and sat down on my bum and crossed my legs.

I needed to be comfortable. I reached over and using only one finger, I touched close to the man's closed eye, on the side of his brain. I was in another life, another time.

It wasn't really a flash. It just... was. I was aware that this wasn't my life or I wasn't myself. But at the same time, all his senses and desires and thoughts were mine. I was him. Just for this brief moment. And I lost myself in the memories, drowning in a small thrill of living another life that wasn't mine to live.

I saw a young girl running through the trees. I saw my wedding. I saw my high school graduation. I don't know how much time I lost, sitting there, in the middle of the kitchen, but I lived a life during that time. I didn't live through it in chronological order but I knew what fit where. It wasn't really that I lived it a piece at a time. I sort of... lived it all at once. It gave me a high that I was still riding once I let go of the man.

I saw myself... him at the moment he killed me. He didn't care who I was. He just wanted that rush again. He didn't come specifically for me. He just came for someone.

I had to crawl away from the body and lean against the cabinets across the kitchen. I was breathing heaving, having to stop from moaning in pleasure. My endorphins were rushing like crazy. I breathed deeply and bit down on my tongue lightly. I opened my eyes. I got up to get my phone. The time seemed to not have changed at all. But I just lived about 43 years.

My shaking fingers finally pulled up the dial pad and I pressed 9-1-1. I put the phone up to my ear. I just wanted the dead body gone. The man had no family. All of his family was killed by him. He was wanted in a couple of states. I was doing the police a favor by killing him.