Into the Woods

Chapter 6

The Killer
**Trigger Warning**
Domestic Violence, Suicide

I don't know how long I've been running in the forest. My adrenaline had kicked in when those sirens pierced my ears. My chest is squeezing my lungs hard, and my legs are cramping up. I chastise myself. Damn, boy, you're out of fucking shape. I run until my lungs can't take anymore and then collapse on the cool, mossy floor of the forest. Freedom smells sweet. I breathe in the dirt and fresh air of the untouched forest that I find myself in.

It's so peaceful and quiet. I lay there, not knowing how long this freedom will last, but I plan to make the most of it and take this moment to assess my situation. I'm pretty sure that my shoulder is dislocated. That can be fixed, but pushing it back into place will be painful. I stand and psych myself up before slamming my shoulder into the tree. Fuck! It was agonizing, but now my shoulder and arm can move.

Pain doesn't bother me. I've been feeling pain for as long as I can remember. My father was an angry son of a bitch. He took it out on my mother and me; she was so weak. She never fought back but just took it till she passed out. Once ailing ole mom passed out, it was my turn. I never showed the bastard weakness. I would stare right into his eyes as he beat the shit out of me. It would be nice to say that he was a drunk asshole, but I can't even give him that excuse. He was downright mean.

My mom took the easy way out of this life when I was twelve. She slit her wrists and bled out in our bathtub. I'm the one who found her, and it made me quite curious. The deep cuts into her wrists and blood-tainted water intrigued me. I wasn't sad about her death; I was disgusted and ashamed that she never found the guts to leave his sorry ass. That's the first thing I planned to do: get away from that bastard as soon as possible.

By sixteen, I was gone, but not before killing that good-for-nothing son of a bitch, poor excuse of a father. I remember that night with such satisfaction, still seeing him sitting in his chair, watching the evening news. I snuck up behind him, sliced his throat without hesitation, practically decapitating the mother fucker. Just the thought of it makes me grin. The authorities put me in juvie till I turned twenty-one. Dumb shits left my sick ass out, and my killing of women never stopped until the misfortunate night that they caught me.

I love the hunt. The prep work. The stalking of my victim. Their blood on my hands. The feeling of their life leaving their body. There's nothing more exhilarating. I've missed every second of the thrill and the process; their screaming is music to my ears, and the look they give me when they give up and go limp in my hands makes me feel powerful. I would give my left nut to have that feeling again.

I hear something and tense up. What the hell? My heart beats faster when I realize I'm not alone in these woods. I try my best to figure out what that sound is. Is it laughing? Women laughing? I sit up with renewed energy. My cock twitches, causing me to stand up and walk towards the lovely melody. It gets stronger and stronger the closer my feet take me, stopping once I'm close enough to see where the exquisite sound is coming from. Fuck, I missed the female voice.

Crouching down in the thicket gives me an imperfect view, but I can make out four women's images: three blondes and one brunette. The brunette is sitting in the water, laughing hysterically. Her three blonde friends are holding their sides as they laugh uncontrollably. I find myself smiling along with them.

The brunette finally stands and walks across the creek to join her friends. I'm close enough to hear their conversation.

"Oh, shit! Our phones!" One of the blondes exclaims as she pulls her phone from her back pocket.