Ice Nine Kills: Nightmare

Chapter 1

The phone swings helplessly off the cradle, stained crimson, the only witness to this gruesome night. Furniture lay scattered about, in the middle of the carnage lay a lifeless body of a girl, taken far too soon, Standing above her, was a person unknown, dressed in black, wearing a mask. The weapon hangs loosely in their hand, dripping with blood. Sirens were heard just outside, car doors opening and closing, this person slowly dropped to their knees, almost tired and ready to face their consequences, they put their gloved hands in the air, surrendering. Police swarmed the house, guns pointed outwards, slowly they lowered them as they came into the living room, two guys grabbing hold of this unknown person, disarming and unmasking them. The sound of metal and clicking was heard as the handcuffs were put on, dragged to their feet they were ushered out the house, while a white cloth drifted down on top of the girl. All that was left in the room was an eerie silence and the metallic smell of blood.

Strands of my hair covered my left eye, my wrists ached and the handcuffs too tight, I couldn't move my hands due to being secured to the desk in this bleached out room. I stared at my feet, I know they can see me through that mirrored glass, why put on a show for them? They think all killers are crazy, they are wrong. The door opened and a brown file was thrown onto the table with force, two black bags placed onto the table, I slowly looked up, noticing the sheriff wore blue gloves.
"Well, Spencer Charnas, you have got quite the collection in these bags" The sheriff spoke coldly
He unzipped both bags, exposing a range of different masks in one and a range of weapons and rope in the other.
I didn't look at him, I shifted a little bit, causing the handcuffs to rattle, I quietly replied saying,
"They aren't mine"
The sheriff shook his head, opening the file, he spread out the pictures of the recent killings, all I could look at was the blood, their lifeless bodies laying there like a trophy a hunter wins, they don't understand, they always assume, police. God, they are so useless.
"You know it's the quiet ones you have to look out for sheriff," I said looking at the mirrored glass, my left lip pointing upwards in a small smirk.
I tried to move my hands again, but was unsuccessful. Why chain me to this table?I have legs. I could still overpower them, no matter how hard they restrain me. People think the police are the heroes in movies but in fact, it's the killers, they're the real heroes.
I laugh, a small laugh, its enough to stop them, make them freeze, why laugh when your being accused of murder? I laugh because of how stupid they are, how oblivious they are to the simplest clues. Why question me? I was at the scene, kneeling over the lifeless body of a teenager, but was it actually me? Or did the real killer, make me kneel there, blackmail me into thinking the killer would turn to my family next. So many questions, little time. I keep my head facing the mirror, only turning my eyes away and up at the sheriff, I stare at him, hoping to make him crawl, make him squirm, I smile a little when he shuffles, he looks uncomfortable.
The sheriff moves and kneels down by the side of me,
"Spencer, please tell..." he started to say but was interrupted by the door opening.
"Sir..."
"I'm in the middle of something, Stewart!" The sheriff said raising his voice
"It's urgent, sir," The voice said quietly.
The sheriff sighed and stood, while he walked out the door, I looked and noticed another police officer stood in the doorway, their face was ashen a phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, the door closed with a soft click, I was alone. Taking in more details of the room, four cameras in each corner, God it's like a fishbowl, with the only exit being that door. There are handprints on the mirrored glass. Do they allow people to walk around freely here? Why handcuff me to the table? My head snapped around back to the door as it opened, the sheriff looking sheepishly, walked in, I turned my head away. I felt his hands touch around my wrists, another click sounded as he took the handcuffs away, I looked at him, bewildered.
"I'm sorry for wasting your time, Spencer. You're free to go"
The sheriff looked at my wrists, his eyes filled with sadness,
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise how tight there were..."
Looking at my wrists I noticed they were bruised and red, I rubbed them gently replying softly,
"It's fine. Don't worry about it'
I walked through the police station and outside, it had turned cold, wrapping my arms around me. I started to walk home, the streets seemed empty, no one about. Why so quiet? It's like they're scared, why be scared? Maybe because...
"Hey Spencer, wait up" A voice called from behind, I turned around clutching my left wrist to my chest, it was the sheriff.
"You left without your jacket," The sheriff said handing Spencer his jacket,
"Oh thanks, how silly of me" I replied quietly
"Are you sure your wrists are okay? They look like they are bleeding" The sheriff spoke concerned "I could.."
"No it's fine, don't worry. I'll be okay" I replied turning away "bye sheriff" I carried on saying as I walked away.
Finally, I was home, turning the key in the lock, I swung the door open, the light was on upstairs someone must be awake still. Walking into the living room, I sat down on the couch, with no light on the darkness seemed comforting, like a warm blanket being wrapped around yourself on a cold winter's night. Suddenly the light in the corner turned on and there was Ricky sitting in the chair, I jumped a mile.
"My God Ricky! What the hell are you doing in the dark?!" I said loudly
"Shh mate, you'll wake the house up! I was worried about you, where the hell have you been?!" Ricky said quietly
"Where have I been? Are you serious right now?" I said feeling angry, it's like they don't care
Ricky was about to speak again when he noticed my wrists,
"My God Spencer! What happened? Were you kidnapped?" Ricky said seriously
"Oh shut up Ricky, no! I was arrested, they thought I killed a load of teenagers, but they let me go. Must have had the wrong person." I said quietly while looking at the wall behind him.
Ricky didn't reply, he just stood up and left the room, great I said to myself someone else now hates me.
"Here, this might help brother," Ricky said entering the room
I realised he had an ice pack in one hand, taking it off him I placed it on my left wrist,
"Thanks," I said quietly
"You're welcome, are you going to be okay? I'm going to bed, me and Dan are planning on going for a morning run if you want to come" Ricky asked
"No it's fine, I think I'll have a lie-in tomorrow," I replied standing up.
Ricky nodded and left the room, I slowly followed him up the stairs, going into our separate rooms, I flopped onto my bed, throwing the ice pack on to the floor, murderer, crazy, lunatic words flowing and swirling in my mind, I did nothing even if the police say you're innocent you never really are. People look at you differently, they're scared to serve you in shops, frantically grabbing their child to shield them from you, you're never really the same once you've been in a police station, you come out a different person, even if you don't feel it. It's like coming out of the hospital and being diagnosed with an incurable illness, it's horrible. My mind wanders, after a while, I slowly drift off to sleep.
"Joe, call an ambulance, the police just anyone! Now!" I heard Dan say in a panic.
Opening my eyes I saw Patrick taking off his belt,
"What are you doing Patrick," I said weakly
"Trust me. I'm just going to try and stop the bleeding" He replied
I watched as Patrick tightened the belt underneath the wound in my thigh, wincing I tried to sit up but was too weak. Dan grabbed hold of my good shoulder and helped me sit up against the kitchen cabinets.
"Thanks, bro," I said weakly
"No problem" He replied