the slut messed up / creepypasta

7: Bantering with a Serial Killer

It was a sunny and bright day outside, sunlight pooling in prettily in the room I was in, you know, with the possible serial killers. My, what a wonderful start to my day. Well, that and the incessant headache. 

"Look, I'll answer all your questions after this head ache subsides? Chill?" I asked, leaning over in my lap, and grabbing the edge of the bedsheet, pulling it over myself lying back down. Lincoln looked at me like he wanted to kill me but Hugo simply chuckled and nodded.

"Get some rest them." Hugo said, before motioning towards Lincoln to leave. 

"Not to be weird, but could Lincoln stay?" Look, there was a high probability of there being even more serial killers in this place, no way in hell am I going to lay here alone. "Please?" I added for good measure.

"I don’t see the problem," I like this Hugo guy, "Lincoln, make sure no one comes into this room." I really like this Hugo guy. Lincoln nodded, an edge to his jaw, as Hugo turned and left into the hallway outside. For a brief moment, as the door was open, I swear I heard a "if you wake me up one more time, your kidneys will be sorry for it!", what the fuck was up with kidneys?

I simply sighed as I asked Lincoln to come sit at the bedside, there was a chair there after all. He rolled his eyes before coming over and quite literally plopping into the seat. He looked away, at the strangely Victorian old-timesy interior of the room, instead of me. He hasn't looked me in the eyes; it's pissing me off. I shifted again to face him, despite being so deadly pale, his jawline was definitely my type, I laughed as I thought to myself.

"Lincoln?" I called, he shut his eyes for a second before turning to me, eye still not looking into mine, "Are you scared of my eyes? They aren't even a unique colour, just plain brown,"

"Unique? No. But annoyingly filled with life? Yes." Lincoln sighed as he finally looked me in the eyes. I grinned.

"That sounds like something a serial killer would say," I'm really testing the limits here.

I swear I saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, before he contained himself, "Perhaps because I am a serial killer."

"Name every victim."

"Why would I remember something so insignificant? I'm not Jane."

"What a jerk. If you killed me, would you remember me?"

"Immortality is a long existence, so in 3-5 years? No, not really."

"What a fucking jerk!" I grinned, why the fuck am I bantering with a serial killer? Oh right, to distract me from the headache. "Yo, wait, you're immortal?"

"I was granted immortality, like everyone else in this mansion, by Hugo." 

"Everyone else?" 

He actually chuckled a bit as he answered, "There's a few more serial killers here."

"Will you protect me?"

"Maybe."

"Jerk," I turned over in the bed and eventually fell asleep, Lincoln sitting in the chair silently.