𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨 | 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

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12:45pm

"We should follow him just to make sure he gets there okay." Richard called out to Rose, who was intensely staring at the ring on her finger. Looking up, she nodded and slipped on her shoes. He was already changed and ready to go, instead of his usual attire— he had on a dark plaid shirt and black denim jeans. Lightly, he extended his hand out to her: without hesitance, she took it.

The pair walked the streets and made small talk, Richard normally didn't say much. His presence spoke for him, it was so dark and intimidating— it made Rose feel small, yet for her: he always held a small space for her to feel comfortable. Not because he liked her, he just needed to keep in his head the reminder that she was there for his use. After walking for a few minutes, the pair caught up behind Michael just as he was entering a house. Rose lightly tugged Richard into an alleyway from across the street, just so they could watch and stay out of sight. The house was located right beside a large and beautiful one, "That's the Murder House you're gawking at." Richard flicked his cigarette away and stared at the house, "Murder House?" She stared at him, he nodded.

"Lots of people have died in there, it's supposedly cursed or haunted— either way..people don't last long there— Michael was actually conceived in that shit hole." Rose tilted her head, "Really? Does he know his actual birth parents?" Richard shrugged, "He didn't tell me much last night..His dad was a spirit there and one night the guy technically raped the lady of the house and she became pregnant." He knelt down to adjust his shoe and stared up at Rose, "Just as God impregnated Mary with the Holy Spirit or whatever—Satan did the same with an impure spirit." She was surprised and slightly taken back, "The poor kid is a mess." He admitted, "but who isn't?" Standing up, he peaked around the corner and signaled to Rose.

Yelling could be heard coming from the inside of the house, an exchange of words were being thrown at each other. Rose could tell they were full of venom. Silence overcame the area, and Michael came into view, slamming the screen door shut behind himself. His eyes were swollen and red, he had been crying. He had left the house in such a hurry, that he left his shoes behind. Rose wanted to run to him and ask what had happened, but Richard held her back. Instead, they just watched as he looked back to the house while crossing the street. In a moment of seconds, a black vehicle came racing down the street. Michael was too distracted to realize before it was too late, the impact knocked him over the car.

The wind left Rose's lungs, a shriek of horror and pain almost escaped from her. Richard kept her silent as the car was purposely placed in reverse to run over the males body once more, and then for the final time— before it sped away. Just as the girl wanted to run off, a woman emerged from the house Michael had been in. She approached the body laying in the middle of the road, kneeling down— they exchanged a few words: before she dropped his head and walked away back into her home. His clothes were bloodied, and one of his legs was obviously badly broken.

Without waiting for Richards approval, Rose ran off: tripping in the process and skinning both her knees in the exact same spot Michael had taken care of. It didn't matter though, she stood up and rushed with a limp toward Michael. Grabbing onto him, the tears began to slip out of her eyes— "Help is on the way, please stay awake." He blinked a few times and coughed weakly: his arm reached for her and caressed her temple. Wiping her tears in the process. The action itself made Rose break out into a fit of sobs and uneven breathing. Eventually, he went still and stopped breathing. His body became limp and heavy under her arms. Richard watched from above, before pulling Rose up and forcing her to move away as the paramedics and cops showed up.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with questions from the cops until they were driven back to the outside of the Condo. Richard held onto Rose after they walked off and made their way back inside. He didn't utter a word, it didn't make any sense. They had just had everything sorted out. Michael probably had people out for him in the beginning, but he was sure he could be resurrected. If Satan had done it for him: then he would surely do it for his own son, he thought. "Rose, I'm sure he could be brought back." Richard mumbled quietly as he watched her settle down in bed. "I'm from the eighties, I should be as wrinkly as a raisin soon— if he's done it for me, he can bring him back." He approached Rose, kneeling beside her.

Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, the tip of her nose was red. Her lips were still quivering, any second now: her eyes would begin to Pool with tears. Opening her mouth, her voice cracked, "Are you sure?" She wiped her eyes, Richard nodded and stared at her intently. She looked so beautiful when she was in pain— he liked watching her cry. Maybe it was his fucked up brain that enjoyed watching people suffer, "Yes." He replied, starting to unbutton the plaid shirt, exposing his chest and abdomen. "Now quit crying or I'll give you something to cry about." He unbuckled his belt and smirked, causing Rose to laugh a little. "You're horrible, I'm mourning here." She sat up and glanced up at the male.

Even in this state of mind, she wanted to be held by him. In a way, she yearned for his touch. It was as if he read her thoughts, sitting down— Richard pulled her into his chest and awkwardly patted her back. "I'm not so great at this.." he muttered. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

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