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    Let Mercy Come – (Chapter: Part One)

    Story written on August 27, 2008 by Numb_.
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    Genre(s): N/A
    Rating: N/A
    fanfiction(s):
    Character(s): N/A
    Number of Comments: 5
    Words: 1196
    Story Shortlink: https://mail.assertive-maroon-jellyfish.104-250-143-187.cpanel.site/?p=19398
    Author Notes:

    This is an EXTEREMELY violent fic. Filled with rape, torture, and murder. Don’t read it if you can’t handle that.

    I ask myself so many questions that I already know the answer to. I’m sick, so sick. Infected with a disease that cannot be cured. As my thoughts continue I whisper comforting things in Kyla’s ear, still trying to maintain the little humanity that remains within me. "She’s coming back… She just needs some time to think… I’ll always be here for you."

    ~

    With Kyla in my arms I head towards the front exit knowing how impossible it would be to try and use the back exit. As I lay her in the passenger side of my vehicle I wonder how my life would’ve been different had stayed true and been there for her.

    ~

    I’m not sure what time it is. The only thing I know is that it’s late, way late. Recently I’ve really been losing track of everything. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since my mother walked out on us. Weird things have been happening to me. I’m starting to get these impulses I can’t control. My kills are doing less and less for me. It feels like as soon as I kill one I need another. I think I’m becoming addicted to it, addicted to killing.

    It’s become the center of my life. So much that I’m not really sure where I stand with things. As far as school goes I think I’m fucked. The end of the semester isn’t far off and I haven’t even begun thinking about studying for finals.

    More important than school is my baby sister, I haven’t been there for her for a long time. I’m starting to feel like none of it matters anymore. Failing out of school used to mean something to me, my sister used to mean something to me. But now the only thing that means something to me is getting my hands on someone I can hurt.

    The motion light blinks on as I make my way to the door. The house is silent when I enter. For a few moments I toy with the idea that he spared her for a night.

    I poke my head into her door, and it becomes clear that tonight like all of the other nights she’s been his victim. Red drops of blood roll down her arm as she cries into her pillow. I need to do something, I need to make him stop hitting her. But now isn’t the time. I should have a talk with him in the morning. Tonight I should simply hold her and help it hurt a little less.

    But instead I let her cry alone as I make my way to the bedroom.

    What have I become?

    ~

    I had neglected the one thing that should have mattered most to me. Somehow I had let the monster inside of me take control. Nearly a month later I was regretting every move I had made since my mother left, and paying for it in darkness.

    ~

    The house is quite. Not that that surprises me. The time for loudness has long since passed. If tonight was like any other night my father’s been passed out for hours and Kyla should’ve cried herself to sleep a bit ago.

    Kyla’s white door stares back at me as I stand and listen for any signs of movement. After a few moments I come to the conclusion that she much be sleeping. I take a step away from the door, but something inside me pulls me back in. For some reason tonight after all the nights I’ve neglected to be there for her something tells me I need to check on her.

    And still, after all of the horrible things I’ve done to women I’ve never formally met I’m horrified by the scene. The amount of blood pouring out of her wrists is enough to make me throw up everything I’ve ever eaten.

    ~

    She died that night. At least I thought she died that night. I can’t understand this, any of this. How could she be here? I stood by her bedside as she flat lined, as every doctor in the hospital tried to bring her back.

    And now years later she’s here with me. Lying beside me in the passenger seat of my car.

    She has some explaining to do. Hell, we both have some explaining to do.

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