"DO YOU TRUST ME?" **REWRITTEN** | JEFF THE KILLER | MATURE

Chapter One

Mood - Travis Scott - Antidote

Rose

The rain pouring outside heavily tapped against the roof of my old family home; thunder booming off to the west. My wet auburn hair clings to my face in all types of directions, my drenched clothing sticking to my body in a very, very unflattering manner. Groaning in complete annoyance, I kick off my squeaky tennis shoes, sending them straight into the wall. Shuffling towards the bathroom, I start up the hot water while looking at my reflection. The auburn hair I spent two hours curling, no straight and blinding me. The makeup I carefully applied running down my face in a hideous fashion. And, to make matters worse, I smudged my eye makeup, making me look like a dirty old raccoon.

Pulling my shirt up, the sound of it peeling away from my skin causes me to gag before it gets stuck around my head. "Goddamn, of all times," I grumble under my breath, bending and shaping my arms in all sorts of awkward angles, only to fail miserably.

Sighing, I stand in the bathroom with a shirt caught around my head, hot water running, and a really bad front wedgie causing pain to spread all over my vagina. I hear a car pull into our driveway and sigh in relief, waiting patiently for my mother to walk inside the house. After two minutes of angry foot tapping, my mother walks in through the door downstairs, calling for me.

"Honey, where are you? You didn't lock the door!"

Tensing, I murmur, "Shit, I forgot it again," before yelling, "I'm up here. Can you help me?"

My voice echoes through the halls for a moment before my mother jogs up the stairs and enters my room. Clearing my throat, mom gets the picture, opening the bathroom door only to see her only daughter stuck in a position a three-year-old would get in.

Suddenly, her melodic laughter rings through the air as her soft warm hands carefully maneuver the shirt off of me. Taking a deep breath, I turn to my mom and offer a messy smile, her eyes lighting up at my ragged appearance. Opening my mouth to speak, she interrupts me.

"Ah, don't say anything; I don't want to know? Will you be okay from here?"

"I'm think I can handle it. I call if I need you," I giggle while pushing her out and shutting the door.

Shaking my head with a small smile, I finish stripping down before hopping into the warm shower. Quietly, I moan in delight as the hot water covers me like a heated blanket. Washing myself down, I internally rejoice in the feeling of being clean. Turning the water off, I reach out and grab my towel, hand drying my hair. Reaching for the shower curtain, my body halts itself when a loud thud outside the bathroom window is heard.

After a moment of confusion, I pull back the curtain and see no one at the window. Raising my brow, I slowly walk over to it and look down at the ground, the neighbor's house dark and quiet. Suddenly, a small strip of white directly on my windowsill catches my attention. Focusing my gaze upon it, I watch as it blows in the window, caught on a screw.

Slightly opening the window, I stick my head out and grab ahold of the cloth, pulling it inside. Turning my back away from the window, I look down at the white cloth, feeling a slight pulsating warmth coming off of it. Deciding that it's useless, I toss it in the garbage can before heading into my room, sliding on a pair of men's boxers and a baggy gray sweater to sleep in.

Looking at my digital clock, I pull my hair up in a ponytail before flicking off the lights. Once in bed and covered up, my eyes close, greeting the darkness that I longed for since this morning. After straight five minutes of failing to pass out, I whine in irritation, rolling onto my back and reaching for my phone, I decide to check the news on the app I downloaded recently. Once it opens, upon clicking on the 'Breaking News' headline, I'm face-to-face with three gruesome pictures of new homicide victims. Eyeing the pictures, I freeze for a moment when I notice that it's the family from four doors down. Inhaling sharply, I quickly move on to the report below the photos.

'Another family has been discovered to be brutally mutilated by the hidden killer. With very little to go on, we here at the main central police station are terribly sorry to say that we currently have no leads. However, one of our best, Officer Emma Lym, is the one working the case. With her leading the investigation, I'm sure we'll have a lead within two days. Until then, don't go outside passed eight in the evening, and be sure to carry a self-defense weapon," Chief of police, Eric Froamie, states.

"Thank you, Chief. Now, I have a few questions; what is the typical M.O. for this killer of ours? Does anything stand out at the crime scenes?" Olivia Menal, the main news anchor pesters.

"Actually, there are a few things we've been noticing. Each victim has been injected with some sort of drug, as to what it does, we're unsure of. As well as the drug, the victims' are usually doused in either bleach or alcohol." 

"Why do I get the feeling you're leaving something major out, Chief?"

Grumbling lowly, I frown and roll to my left side, muttering, "Can't this woman ever shut up? Why do I even bother? I already know all of the details seeing as mother tells me what she finds."

I angrily toss my phone to the beanbag across the room before pulling the blanket over my head. Closing my eyes again, I feel the world slow as does my breathing and heartbeat. The delicate smell of lavender laundry soap roams around my bedding, as does the smell of green apples; my shampoo. As I'm about to fall asleep, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoes around my room.

Holding my breath, I keep my eyes closed under the blankets as the person walks in front of me, no doubt looming over me. If I scream, I wonder if mom will here me and come running... Wait, she's working the nightshift tonight. Well, fuck. I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel the sudden urge to sneeze. Internally praying, I try my best to hold it in, the lingering scent of body odor radiating from whomever is in my room causing it.

Unable to hold it back any longer, a sneeze forces it's way out of me, the blankets falling off of my head and my eyes opening up. Terrified of what I'm going to see, I refuse to look around my room. When nothing happens, I begin to worry.

"Wasn't there someone here just now," I squeak, slowly looking around, only to find no one in sight.

Humming in realization, I put it off, thinking it was just something my mind created before finally managing to fall asleep.

Unknown

The pulsating lights begin to hurt my eyes, my body swaying side-to-side from whatever I just drank. Ferociously coughing, I turn to find a man in a white sweater staring me down, his eyes and face hidden underneath the hood, but his gaze undoubtedly on me. The man lifts his head up, the blue flashing light above him highlighting his mouth. Horror fills me to the bone when his chapped bloody lips lift up into a smile, the gashes in his cheeks that I once thought to be makeup dripping with blood, barely showing his smoker yellow teeth.

Suddenly, a feeling similar to asphyxiation causes me to choke, my hands coming to my throat. I look at the man, begging for help, only to watch him bring a lit cigarette to his lips before taking a drag. The slits in his cheeks help leak the smoke, darkening the dried areas of red blood, turning them a murky brown. Tears start to pour from my eyes, my heartrate increasing tenfold. As my eyelids start to flutter, I see a frown etch it's way onto the man's lips before his mouth stops moving. The last words I'm ever to hear being, "I'm afraid we lost another to the--". My heart finally stops beating.