Psycho Killer (Zak Bagans) (Ghost Adventures) *COMPLETED*

Chapter Six

Y/N

Zak's silence spoke volumes, he had killed his father which had kicked off his whole killing spree. But how did his father know Carl? The last person I wanted to see after several years.

'Get in the car y/n and I'll tell you everything,' Zak orders through gritted teeth, opening the passenger door.

I gulp and get in the car, Zak slamming the door shut behind me before he walks around and gets in the driver's seat. He punches the steering wheel, and before he can go back for a second punch I dart my hand out and stop him mid punch, 'don't hurt yourself Zak, deep breaths.'

'My father was on the board of several kids homes. He never once touched me, but he had been fiddling kids for years, little boys and girls who couldn't defend themselves and have a voice. He could make complaints vanish, and a bunch of owners of the homes also took part.'

All I can do is stare at Zak, If Carl was in on this then Zak's dad could have made my complaints and accusations go away.

'But what made you kill him, Zak? You could have gone to the Police,' I say, trying to reason with him.

He shakes his head, 'it goes a lot higher than you think y/n, he would have bribed his way out. I found a suicide note written by a kid he'd abused and realised my father had driven someone to kill themselves and he didn't care. I confronted him in the kitchen, we argued, I picked up a kitchen knife and slit his throat.'

That was pretty heavy. I couldn't get my head around all this new information about a chain of child abuse that involved several kids homes, 'does Oakridge Children's Home ring a bell? The guy upstairs was Carl the owner, he gave me these whip scars.'

Zak sighs and turns to face me with sad eyes, 'Oakridge was on the list, I'm sorry y/n.'

I didn't want to cry, but it was tough to hear that abuse had been going on for years and I was oblivious to just how far it went. I probably wasn't Carl's only victim. I wasn't alone, but now I wanted justice for the other victims.

'I don't know what to feel Zak. I feel empty.'

'Sometimes it's good to feel nothing, allows you to think clearer,' he replies.

I bend down to move my backpack when I realise I'd left the most important and valuable item upstairs, 'fuck,' I curse.

'What's wrong y/n?' Zak questions, concern rising in his voice.

'I need to grab something from upstairs; I'll only be a second. If I'm not back in five then come up.'

Zak raises his eyebrow but I dart out of the car before he could argue. I couldn't leave the only photo I had of my parents behind, I liked seeing their happy faces before I went to sleep.

The second I step back into the apartment I'm shoved hard against the wall by Carl, 'well look who came back,' he laughs sounding almost manic. Just his voice put the fear of God in me, and I was transported back to being fourteen.

'Get off me,' I struggle, but he holds firm.

'Once I'm done with you even pretty boy Zak won't look at you the same way again,' his words chilled me to the bone full of threat and malice.

I was slightly confused by what he meant until it was too late and something heavy comes down on the side of my head knocking me sideways. I trace my fingers along the side of my head feeling and seeing blood trickle down my fingers.

Next thing I know I'm pinned against the wall once more this time facing Carl who had murder in his eyes, as he latches his hands around my throat pulling the two of us backwards until he stumbles and we both fall through the glass coffee table. Carl still trying to cut off my air supply.

'y/n!' Zak shouts.

He strides towards us, and before I can blackout I see him pull something out and stab Carl in the neck. Carl gasps and releases me, so I take the opportunity to scuttle backwards as Carl coughs up blood and collapses.

'Is he dead?' I squeak out.

I already knew the answer to my question deep down but I needed Zak to confirm that he'd just killed my childhood abuser. Zak nods and pulls the knife out of Carl's neck before crouching down in front of me, but I scoot backwards.

ZAK

I didn't blame y/n for being scared and in a state of shock.

'How could you do that Zak?' she accused, sounding quite astonished despite knowing my true nature.

'I did what I had to do y/n,' I attempt to justify in a monotone voice, slipping back into my emotionless self.

'Then tell me!' y/n demands, 'what made you stab him in the neck?'

I shoot y/n a look which said 'are you kidding me?' but quickly came to terms that she was shocked Carl was finally out of her life for good.

'He was choking you to death y/n, I couldn't let him take you away from me.'

y/n scoffs but I could see that she was at war with herself as to whether she hates or loves me for what I'd just done. But I knew two words which would sway her, 'you're free.'

And like the straw that broke the camel's back, any doubt y/n had crumbled away as she muttered 'I'm free' under her breath.

I reach out to touch her bleeding face and to my surprise, she doesn't flinch away.

'What do we do now Zak?' she asks, voice quiet.

I thought she'd never ask, I didn't particularly like cleaning up after myself, but this clean up had to be quick and believable.

'If the Police see your bruises and you tell them about Carl's abuse they'll put his death down to self-defence and you won't be charged.'

y/n nods and attempts to stand up, but wobbles and I have to catch her before she falls again, 'give me the knife Zak.'

I tense, what did she need my knife for? y/n sees my confusion and shakes her head.

'I'm not going to stab you. The Police will need it as evidence and since you found the time to put on gloves it has no prints. If we're going to make the Police believe I stabbed Carl my prints need to be on the weapon right?'

Of course, that's why y/n wanted the knife. Besides, in her current state, she couldn't hurt a fly let alone me so I didn't know why I was so cautious as to hand my knife to them. A killer didn't share his tools and now I was most likely going to lose this knife to Police evidence. With some reluctance, I hand y/n the knife.

'I'll call the Police then y/n,' I say.

Y/N

When the Police arrived Zak had them eating out of the palm of his hand. He played the part of the concerned friend well, and to no one's surprise, I played an even better victim. The Police officers took one look at the apartment and immediately took my side just like Zak said they would.

A paramedic was stitching up my head while I watched Zak handle the 'situation' as he called it. When I was vulnerable on the floor he could have easily killed me as well, but he didn't. Did he mean he cared for me? I had a fair few questions and Zak was going to answer every one of them.