A Descent into Darkness

Good Memories

Ugh, what a rough sleep, I think as I climb out of bed at around nine am. Normally, waking up without an alarm clock is the best thing in the world next to killing. But the dream I had last night meant I would have welcomed anything that woke me up sooner. I had dreamt that even after he learned the truth about Rachel, Nate still did not embrace who he really is, and instead chose her over me. Meaning that not only did I have to kill both of them, but that it was my fault for even making sure Veronica hooked them up in the first place.

I need to clear my head or I'm gonna kill someone. While I have no problem with that, it's too soon after my last victim for another. But it shouldn't be an issue, I have a routine I follow when I'm getting tense. It involves a short run to my old high school.

Looking in the mirror sitting atop my dresser, I tie my hair in a bun before throwing on a white athletic sweater and a pair of sweatpants. I then grab my iPhone and earbuds off the nightstand. Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table as I come down the stairs. They smile at me as I come in and I smile back, rather convincingly I might add.

"Hey sweetie," Dad says as I come over and kiss him on the forehead beneath his receding hairline. "When did you get in last night?"

"Oh, around midnight probably," I reply. I note with irony that last night was one of the few times I didn't actually lie to them about where I was going, even if I mislead Mom regarding which direction it was on my way home.

Dad looks slightly suspicious however, and he merely averts his eyes, saying, "Well, I won't ask any more details then."

"Oh Andy, stop it," Mom's across the table shaking her head before looking at me. I'm always a little impressed looking at her face, even after so long. She and Dad are the same age, but I swear, with her smooth blonde hair and nigh a wrinkle in sight, she looks at least ten years younger. I really hope I take after her. She says, "I just hope you and your friends had fun last night, dear. And if what your father is worried about actually happened, as long as you used protection, no issue."

"Okay, that's my cue to leave," I pretend to be embarrassed and hurry out of the room for my run. The second they can't see me, I smirk. I love how I've fooled them into thinking I'm just your average girl. They think I spend my nights clubbing and out with friends. While that is what I was doing last night, obviously I spend a considerable portion of the time perusing...other interests.

They think I fawn over Drake, Bieber, and all the other celebrities on the posters I've been hanging in my room since middle school. I guess I do technically fantasize about such celebrities, but not in the way Mom and Dad think. They have no idea who I am. I could tie them up and stab them to death and they would just look at me perplexed until the life left their eyes.

At the door, I throw on a pair of sunglasses from the table and put my running shoes on before exiting the house, emerging into a freezing, sunny day, just as forecast. After scanning for snow or ice patches on the pavement and finding none, I jog down the front walk before accelerating to an all-out run once in the street.

It's important to stay in shape when you do what I do, especially when you're a girl. Some men, hell, even the women at times, if they land one good blow on you, that can be the end of your fortunes. My method of drugging people's drinks or food is effective, but it's not an instantaneous effect, unlike what TV would have you believe. The danger is if they realize they've been drugged and start to suspect me while still retaining the majority of their strength, I may be in trouble. It hasn't happened yet but it's something I can't risk letting my guard down about.

Personally, I say mobility is more important than strength. My toys more than make up the strength deficiency when I'm torturing someone. Sure, it can be a little challenging, disposing of the bodies, but you just have to find a good downward gradient to slide the car holding the corpse into the water. And it's not like I don't work out at all, I am decently toned. I just wouldn't exactly be an even match for someone like the Hulk. That said, there are advantages to not boasting an eight pack. My slim appearance means people are constantly underestimating me. Like my first victim. Chloe Blanchard. Whom, coincidentally, I am going to see right now. Or more accurately, her memorial.