Murder in the Rain

I stared out my window, the glass reflecting me hazily, a little distorted. It was raining outside. I watched a raindrop trail down the window on the outside, leaving a slight stain that would soon be erased. The rain was so incredible, perfectly formed droplets of water falling from the sky. This water was in it's purest form, having just been recycled from wherever it'd been stolen by the heat, rising to form a cloud. I wanted to go outside just to feel these perfect beads of water hit me; until the tiny drops managed to soak me to the bone, one by one.

My deformed counterpart worried their lip with me as I realized how long I’d been staring out the window, completely absorbed. 

My brain tended to do that sometimes. It convinced most people that I was crazy when my mind came untethered like that. Mostly it wasn't a lot of trouble, just getting lost in my mind, floating away. I focused on the mug of black coffee I cupped in my hands, the burning ceramic grounding me. Breathing in the bitter steam centered me. 

Moving out of the bathroom into the living room, I exhaled deeply, setting the mug, my lifeline, on a maple table. The table was one of my favorites. I ran my fingers over the coarse surface, feeling the vine and flower designs embossed onto it.

The door creaked a little and I frowned, the door was new, it shouldn't already need repair. Of course, it possibly wasn't new and my mind is just blanking…

I twisted my fingers into my hair, curling the chestnut locks around my finger, just to give my hands something to do. I released my hair with a sigh, letting it fall back into its spiraling curls, tight and big.

I sat on my couch, a beautiful antique, bought at a yard sale, reveling in the soft velvet. I stroked it a bit, my calloused palms catching and snagging the fabric. I relaxed into its arms, making a content noise deep in my throat as it adjusted to my weight.

I was yanked quite rudely out of my tranquility by the sound of something whipping through the air. My eyebrows pulled together into a frown as my eyes darted around, looking for the source. I found it a second later as a knife brushed past me, barely missing, before embedding itself in the couch. The door creaked again, slowly pushing open to reveal the knife thrower.

"Hello, Scarlet," The syllables of my name were dragged out, the speaker relishing the word.

"W-what?"

"Oh, poor baby," the sickeningly familiar voice taunted me.

The sheer terror coursing through my veins finally snapped me out of my daze, and I searched the room for escapes. The only window was decorative and placed too high to reach. The door was blocked. I was trapped. Quickly calculating my chances, I rushed the threatening figure.

The element of surprise worked in my favor until another knife was drawn. I was able to evade death or injury with my agility for a while. But it didn't last.

A knife pierced my chest out of the blue, pinning me down. The pain forced a scream out of me. It was an animal scream, terrified and shocked, a summary of the pain filling my chest. I fell onto the ground.

I pulled the knife out, and of course my floaty mind had to note the glass handle, daintily inscribed with cursive words. The curved blade was almost beautiful. I was still staring at the knife as my head spun and my vision narrowed. The figure was watching me passively. I gasped for air. No, no, no. Too late, my cursed mind supplied. Tick Tock, your time is up. Shut up. Bye-bye, it's your time to die. No! You're done, woman.

Done

Done

Done

Done.

The word echoed through my head.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

My vision tunneled and I inhaled, concentrating on the rise of my chest. Was this the end of the line? I tilted my head, peering at the red I was now lying in. There was no chance of survival. There wasn't even a point in staying awake any longer.

As I blew out my breath, I let myself relax, giving up. One more breath, one more rise and fall. I watched my chest, felt my heart beating, clenched my fists just to feel them, reveling in my final breath, then let my eyelashes flutter closed. I could feel them resting on my cheek. I was hyper-aware of everything. Strands of hair moistened by my tears were pasted onto my cheeks. The world was spinning out of control. I let it. My face was heating, my skin tightening and loosening. My heart beat faster. My stupid, stubborn heart. It'll be better, heart, if you give up. It didn't listen. Suddenly everything quieted. The sound of my heart was gone, the absence of it almost deafening. The light shining behind my eyelids faded, blinding me. My sense of touch disappeared, overwhelming me.

(Different Person's Point of View)

Her chest rose once more. This was taking forever. But what did it matter? She would die eventually, just as I'd planned. She blew out a breath, then her whole body loosened. Another breath. Clenched fists, closed eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered, her breaths grew shallower. Then she was gone.

My beautiful knife was still clenched in her pale hand. She had been admiring it before she fell, special girl. I crossed the room, tugging the dainty weapon out of her grip. Her limp cadaver didn't resist. I left her lying there.

I crossed over to the window and traced my finger lightly over the path of a raindrop, stained into the window for now. I exited her house and before walking away rubbed my sleeve against the window, erasing the paths carved into it.

I met the eyes of my own hazy reflection in the smooth glass and smiled coldly.

I love killing.