Psycho Killer || Starrison

Chapter Ten

All of his self-confidence has left him not so long after this decision. Walking down the stairs he wasn't able to clear up his mind. The man was close to panic and really close to come back upstairs. He was about to do it when...

"Geo...?" Ringo was slowly gaining his consciousness; there's no way back now. "George, is that you? Where am I?" With these words the drummer looked around, his eyes opening wider and wider. "What is this place?"

George however couldn't answer. He stood still lightened by the only, poor bulb. Looking at the floor. He didn't know how to react. Hell, he was nearly as terrified as his friend. The only difference was that he knew the terrible truth and couldn't hide from it — Ringo, in the other hand remained luckily unaware. Happy boy. Nothing was known for sure. Things that for him seemed only like a cruel nightmare that you can't shake off from after waking up, for Harrison had become reality long time ago. Too long ago to still have hope for awakening and ending all this suffering.

"What's going on? What am I doing here?" The musicians kept on asking questions, but George didn't seem to hear even one of them. He only stood there like hypnotized, which made Ringo even more afraid. Afraid of Harrison. "How did I get in here?"

After a while of merciless silence the guitarist turned around. He began to organize Arthur's tools, it wasn't part of his "responsibilities" though. His comrade always did it himself, it seemed like he even enjoyed it. But in this very moment George needed to focus on something, anything to not to lose the contact with reality. It wasn't that bad of an activity, or at least George thought so until he heard a muffled scream from behind. Just now Starr realized that this dark place isn't an ordinary basement. It reminded more a torture chamber. Suddenly stains of blood embellishing the walls and Harrison taking care of enormous collection of knives drew musician's attention. For a second Ringo was sure he's going to black out again. But another series of questions flew out of his mouth. "Why don't you say anything? What is this place? Geo?! What's happe-"

And then he realized. He unexpectedly found answers for all his and London's questions. The man still wanted to hope that it's not true, but every little thing around him told him that he is unfortunately right. Ringo Starr was facing a serial killer that the entire London City was shaking in fear of. He felt a wave of nauseating. The drummer had no power to speak anymore. All he wanted was to go back home, but it didn't seem like he'll manage to anytime soon.

Harrison stood in silence — he didn't recon he'd be able to move, even if he tried to. So instead he watched terror on the other man's face. This picture broke his heart. He opened his mouth to explained everything but no words escaped. He knew this situation left him with no excuses. No man could justify what happened in this place.

"George..." Ringo spoke, his voice shaking. "George please... talk to me..." Tears begun to unwillingly stream down the blue-eyed boy's cheeks. It was harder and harder to catch a breath. Finally, he gained forces to ask with a weak whisper: "Did... you kill all of those people?"

Silence. It seemed to last forever. Harrison's heartbeat fastened. Richard was probably able to hear it since none of the outside noises could teach the basement. It didn't appear that this house is the part of as busy city as London.

"...yes."

At this moment Ringo became overwhelmed by panic. He started to scream, cry if he could he would definitely run away and curl up in the corner. He appeared to be deaf on George's constantly repeating same two words: I'm sorry. The guitarist was on the edge of crying himself. He realized that in the eyes of his dearest person he became nothing more than a murderer wanted by the entire Scotland Yard. Murderer who terrorized the city for nearly two years. Even if he wanted he couldn't out scream Ringo crying in the corner. Until he started to lose control over his own body.

He knew this feeling too well, was used to it, but never ever he's been so scared of it as At this moment.

The wave of desperation came upon him, he wanted to break free and gain control but it was useless — he was striking on the walls of a locked room.

George's never been so terrified.

He was eight years old and cowering under the bed, shaking. He heard screams and was sure that he'll come to him too, that he'll kill him.

He was twenty years old. He was watching his victim in a pool of blood in terror. Murder he was a part of. For the first time he's seen death, knowing it was his fault.

He was twenty-two years old. His friend died right before his eyes, and he did nothing to help.

Yet George Harrison was even more scared now, when he realized that Ringo is at the mercy of Arthur — this thought blinded him, he couldn't get hurt. Not him. Too much suffer that he let happen already.

'Arthur, stop! You can't do that!'

Why. He can't survive this. If he'll leave the house with this knowledge it will be over.

George desperately tried to come up with any idea. 'What's with Codex? You can't just kill him like this!'

Silence — his comrade hesitated. For a second Harrison had hope.

Codex says to survive by any cost.

The guitarist wanted to scream, but he couldn't anymore. He felt the darkness consuming here and cutting off of his own body. Ringo was watching the whole situation, his heart shattering to little pieces when George confessed him that he's a murderer, cruel murderer, murderer without conscience, that took so many lives... Paul's life. He ended his friend's life without a blink or hesitation.

The guitarist wanted to scream but didn't have the power. He could feel the darkness, slowly absorbing him, separating him from his body. Ringo was observing the whole situation, while his heart was breaking into tiny pieces after George told him he was the murderer. The cruel murderer, murderer without any human conscience, who was responsible for so many deaths... including Paul's. He killed his own friend, without a blink.

Out of all the people in the world... George Harrison... all those years of friendship, when they started from the very beginning, and climbed on top of their dreams... For past two years he fraternized with a monster.

This fact hit him with all of its power. He shouted. Cried. Hoped somebody will hear him through the walls. The man whipped and the tears felt just like a fire running down his cheeks. Soon enough he raised his head and saw some strange, unknown change that obviously took place in his companion.

He wasn't able to describe it, but he looked... different. Much more pale, for sure. Younger man's pupils got noticeably bigger. Facial expressions full of pain and guilt before, was exchanged for apathy, contempt even. His height didn't change, yet he seemed to exceed the poor man more than before. All of man's appearance emanated with cruelty. In fact, it was still Harrison's face... but at the same time looked completely different. He stood is the middle of the room, moving lips slowly wand with a strange look. It seemed like he was just battling with himself. Ringo had never seen him like this before.

Then George, or rather something that used to be him, took up a knife. The drummer flinched in pure panic, but the rope was knitted strong and with precision. He couldn't move. He could scream and cry, but he couldn't defend himself.

And both of them knew it.

***

SURPRISE 

AMAZING COMEBACK

AND YALL THOUGHT ITS DEAD BUT I WONT LET MY CHILD FLOP LIKE THIS NONO

JUST NO

ILL FINISH IT EVEN IF ITLL TAKE FOREVER

ENJOY