Fallen Raine {Completed}

Chapter Twenty-Two - Talk About Being On Display

~Chapter Twenty-Two - Talk About Being On Display~

   There are some things in this world that a person sees that can mentally scar them for the rest of their existence.

   Something so horrific and terrifying that the brain struggles to comprehend what it’s seeing, and for a second you are left in a shock so profound, the world seems to fall away as your mind struggles to come up with reasons why what you’re seeing could not be real; a legitimate and logical explanation for a scene before you that you cannot physically understand.

   I don’t mean when you walk in on your dad in the shower, or when you accidentally injure your neighbor’s cat. I mean, a serious, honest-to-God scene that terrifies you and sickens you to the point of numbness, where you can’t soak in anything at all because you’re too lost in what you can already see.

   That is what I went through in that exact moment.

   The silence around us was deafening, and a million expressions flitted over our features in rapid succession as we stared at what could quite possibly be the most gruesome sight that I would ever face in my entire life.

   Brad’s face was stark pale, slightly bluish as his body still reacted to the coldness of the store. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head, only the whites showing, and his head was tilted back to reveal his gruesomely and jaggedly cut throat.

   Dark blood clotted around the wound, as well as spilled around his clavicle and collarbones, darkening his normal milky skin to a gruesome scarlet and black.

   But that wasn’t what terrified me so much—though it certainly did scare the hell out of me.

   It was the fact that he had been cut in half.

   And I mean it, cut in half.

   Below the waist there was nothing there. It had been completely cut off with a surgeon’s precision, almost as if performed by a doctor.

   Attached to his waist was a metal pole much like the ones the mannequins were propped up on. It was tall enough for him to be seen over the racks, and his shirt was cut open to reveal words that had been written—or should I say carved—there with a knife.

   Talk about being on display.

   Ironic, isn’t it?

   I gagged into the crook of my arm, trying to hold down the food I had eaten earlier. The sight before me was so violent and raw that it seemed almost unrealistic, as if it hadn’t really happened. Like it was all some big cosmic joke and I’d wake up any minute. Like this wasn’t a real human being and was just a prop on a movie set from some overly-creative—and horrifically morbid—makeup artists.

   But it wasn’t.

   I realized I was sobbing, though no tears had come to my eyes. River’s arms wrapped around me, cradling me into his chest as his warm fingers stroked my hair. He buried my face into him so that I no longer had to look at the body, and I clutched onto the lapels of his leather jacket as I breathed in the smoky scent of him. It was woodsy, but had a mint and cinnamon smell as well.

   “We should leave,” Jason said, his voice deep and trembling. “Get the girls back to the food court. There’s nothing more we can do here, and if we stay any longer, I’m going to be sick. Let’s go.”

   I felt River nod, his chin brushing the top of my hair softly as he made a noise of agreeance. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

   He grabbed me around the waist and half-carried me out of the store and into the cool strip. He held me close and I was barely aware of our surroundings as we made our way back to what had become our headquarters.

   My mind swum dizzyingly, and millions of thoughts and questions penetrated my mind, stinging like tiny hornets, over and over again. Every time I blinked the image of Brad cut in half flashed through my mind, making me want to throw up all over again. My mind sluggishly processed the information, and I struggled to comprehend what I had seen.

   Had that really just happened?

   I knew with an absolute certainty that, yes, it had.

   When we made it back to the food court, I looked around to see only Jason and River with me. River kept his arms around me protectively, whereas Jason just watched me with a concerned expression.

   “Where’s Drella?” I whispered, my throat suddenly and awfully dry.

   He pointed to her retreating figure, which was running quickly up the hallway. “She went to the bathroom. It’s okay; she’s safe in there. The killer can’t get in there without us seeing.”

   “Brad…” I whispered, still trying to figure it out. It was like a complicated, difficult puzzle missing all of its pieces.

   “I know,” River said gently, his eyes glazing over as he obviously recalled the gruesome image of the feminine boy in the clothing department.

   “I’m sorry,” I whispered, leaning into his chest and listening to his rapidly beating heart.

   “For what, Rai?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

   I sighed into his shirt. “For what happened to Jessica, for snapping at you earlier, for blaming you…. Just for everything.”

   “It’s okay, Raine,” he told me gently, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head that made my whole body tingle. “I understand it. We’re all tired and stressed. I owe you an apology, too. I’ve been a total jerk ever since we got trapped here. I’m sorry, too.”

   I smiled into the cotton of his shirt, and Jason wandered over. “If you two are done honeymooning, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

   I looked up at him, and took in a deep breath. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

   Jason chuckled mirthlessly, and it was dark and cold. “You mean besides everything?”

   I frowned at his words, which, if I’m being completely honest, hurt a little. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking regretful. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I’m just stressed.”

   I didn’t bother answering that. “What’s up?”

   “I think I know who the killer is,” Jason said in a low voice, leaning down to talk to us.

   The breath left me in a whoosh.

   “What?” I whispered through numb lips.

   “I’ve been thinking, and I think the killer was someone in the group. That’s how they always managed to track us down and know where we were and know when we were alone. And we never found him… or her.”

   “Well, who’s the killer?” I asked, eyes wide.

   Jason looked around, as if afraid of being overheard by the killer in question, and my brows creased at his shiftiness and worry. What was going on?

   River leant forward in anticipation, and, despite myself, I found myself following his actions.

   Jason leaned forward and whispered, “Drella.”

~     *     ~

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 Dedicated to JessIzzyWilli for her truly admirable writing skills on her latest book, and for also inspiring all of the psycho in this book. It's all because of you, babe.

xXx