Addy the Killer

Chapter 13 - 'Angel' Blade

He was curled up on the floor obviously he rolled over in his sleep at some stage. He rubbed his eyes to help himself wake up and a yawn filled his lungs. Addy picked himself up off the floor and stretched out his arms. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but it was dark outside, only a subtle ray of light infiltrating the dark cabin-type structure. Immediately Addy felt for his knife within his jumper pocket and sure enough it was there. The other one was still on the ground and the pocket knife tucked away neatly into his jeans pocket. Addy had a flashback moment when he remembered back to his first encounter with his angel in his dreams; she slicing her arm with a knife that had a suspiciously close resemblance to his favourite. He began to carve the word angel into his favourite weapon’s handle with the unknown spiked metal prong on the pocket knife. Jagged lettering ‘A’ ‘N’ ‘G’ ‘E’ ‘L’ sprawled out along the wooden handle. Due to his artistic side he even put a tiny little halo above the ‘E’; barely fitting it into the miniscule area. He scanned over his work, quite pleased with himself. There was still something that shone through his incident; his artistic ability. Addy still loved everything about it.

He observed his hideout once again, thoroughly displeased with its quality. He straightened up the cupboard’s contents and moved all of the abandoned toys off to the sides. He shook out the rug and dust flew every which way, making it even harder to see. The fire had gone out; no wonder it was so cold inside. Upon sliding the cupboard around, he found there was something behind it. A mirror. It was one of those full-length ones so he could see everything. He cringed and grimaced at the sight of himself. A teenager wearing a tattered pair of dirty jeans and a blood stained hoodie. His face mutilated to have a permanent smile; ear to ear. Blood and tears dripping from the gash, leaving streaks. His skin scarred and pale. His hair black and coarse. No eyelashes and hardly eyebrows. These are the reason for his reaction; he didn’t recognise himself but still liked it. He even thought it was unusual. Addy still had a fascination with mirrors. He didn’t know what it was about them, they were just interesting. He was captivated, staring at his features until he heard “It’s beautiful.” He was startled at first but then thought back to when she spoke when he was back home, but this time he couldn’t see her, not that he was looking in the first place. “What is?”

“Your face.”

“What about it?”

“Everything. Your skin, your eyes… and your smile. Just everything.” He stood silent and then raised his hand to trace his features in the mirror. “You should probably go now.” Addy knew exactly what she meant. He had to pry himself away from the mirror.