The Chase

Chapter Fifteen

It all ends with The Chase.

8:36pm

Thunder and storm roared outside. The rain splattering against the windows and sliding. She jolted out of bed and glanced at the window beaming with rain. This time, her phone didn't lit up with messages after messages. Her door swung open and stood was Trigger in an orderly outfit. Ready to strap her in the white glistening outfit he had in his hand.

"Trigger!" She shouted. "What are you doing?!" She backed up against her headboard, frightened. Her eyes wander off in search of finding something to use. Think Scarlett!, she whispered to herself. She jolted back up and pushed Trigger out and over the bannister.

Scarlett held onto the handrail and watched Trigger fell onto the first floor. Crack. The moon light revealed it wasn't Trigger, it was Zander with a rope in one hand. "Shit what did I do?!"

She rushed towards Zander in a panic. She dragged his body up the stairs and had to stage his death. She took the rope and wrapped around the bannister then his neck. She threw his body over the handrail again. "Perfect!"

She spun around and witnessed Dinah facing her. Her sweet mother leaned in and frowned. "Scarlett," she said. Her tone was sweet. "You can't keep killing people. I love you and I'll always be here for you. I just don't love this side of you."

Her mother was gone in an instant. Her beautiful image; long curly brown hair, beauty mark right upon her cupid lips, peachy nightgown and slippers. Her peachy nightgown was soaked in blood. The outfit she was once seen alive in. Scarlett thought of her mother as thoughtful, beautiful, and extraordinary. She had to die. That what Scarlett thought when she was young and stood behind her mother in the nursery with a butcher knife. She dug the knife into her spine and farther up, hitting every organs she could. You see...Scarlett wanted her mother to be safe away from her deadbeat father. Moving wasn't an option. He would always find her.

"Scarlett?!" Franco said. His eyes wander to the handrail and spotted Zander. "You didn't..."

"I thought he was a....intruder!" Scarlett spoke in a high pitch voice. "What is happening to me Franco?"

Franco cleared his throat and crossed his arms. He wore plain tee shirt with pajama pants with slippers. His eyes were facing Scarlett and knew what to say. "You are not Scarlett."

Steam rose from Scarlett's head. "Of course I am. Scarlett Everett Chase in the flash." She said. She was fumed. Why would he say something like that, she thought.

"You are not my Scarlett. The Scarlett that would always ask Dinah or I to read her Beauty and the Beast. The princess," Franco said, walking closer. "You Are Karla Winninworth Chase."

It all came back to her.
Karla and Scarlett were twins. They had the same facial features; nose, hair color, eye colors, and freckles. Bestest of sisters and did everything together until that night.

August 13 1999 was the night five year old Karla murdered her sister for the taken game she overheard about. It was a rainy and gloomy night, the raindrops dripped against the siding of the house and windows. She knew once she killed her sister she'd then need to kill her mother. Karla wasn't the perfect one and never got attention.
****
FIVE MONTHS LATER

Karla's hand clenched onto her doll, white face, rosy cheeks, and darkness fully eyes. Her eyes wandered across the room, visions were almost clear, barely able to glance at the figure in the interrogation room . "I love my dolly. Alway there for me, she would never leave me," she said, almost unsettling.

The figure smiled. "What makes you say that?"

The voice filled into Karla's ears. It sounded like a woman, the way her words soothed her. "She has never left my side. She has been with me through that night," her voices were muffling over the intercom, her voice echoes through the soiled colorless bricks. "Dolls will never leave or hurt you. That's why!"

"Ms. Chase, please sit down," the woman said. "This is an interview session," Karla paced the floor, glancing out the cell block window, watching one of the officers shoveling and slowly cleared the fresh blanket of snow from the parking lot and sidewalks.

"Where am I?" Karla asked in a worried tone. She was scared of him. "Are you working for him? Is he here?"

The women shook her head. "I'm Detective Mrs. Shanon Trothon. This session is being recorded, today is December fifteen at 6:55 p.m.."

Karla's eyes glanced at the bushy hair, mid-age women. Shanon sighed with a smile. "In a few seconds I'll ask you some questions. Is that's ok?"

She nodded. "What do you want to know?" Karla asked. Her voice was dull. She glanced at her hazel blue eyes against her wounds. She was relieved.

"State your full name, date of birth," the Detective asked.

"Karla Winninworth Chase, August 23, 2002. Is that's all, ma'am?" she drummed her fingers on the window, humming along to a poem she once heard from her mother, watching the snowfall from the endless sky. "I love the snow, the way it falls and the freezing temperatures how you can freeze anything."

From that moment, Karla was signed into an asylum for life and carried her dolls with her that looked identical to her best friend America and Zander.