Offenderman Chronicles

Chapter Four

A/N:  So much better than before. Beginning to deviate from the prior fic. I have more plans in mind. Life is great... Also, sorry for not updating for several months??? I got distracted. Please don't leave me I promise I can write.

Karelia's POV

~~~

Stitch.
Sew.
Cut.
Ties.
Stitch.
Sew.
Cut
Live and die.

I felt myself drifting in and out of consciousness as the odd man went about his business. I didn't know why I'd expected anything like a medical professional in a place like this, let alone anyone remotely human.
His skin was grey. I couldn't make out his face from where I was, but I caught a glimpse of blue whenever I tried.
It did nothing to ease my fears, or the unsettling pain I could barely feel from my stomach. The feeling of a needle piercing the skin, of thread being drawn through and the two sides being pulled together. Rinse and repeat.
Nobody should be awake during this. Hell, nobody should be alive through this. And yet...
I couldn't pass out again. The pain was too constant and unsettling, but not quite to the point that my body found it fit to shut down.

I wondered if there was a single medical professional in this place. Chains bound me to a table looked as though it had been made more for torture than for medical procedures, and the cold stone slab under me sent chills down my spine, which already twinged with pain every now and then.

I wondered how I wasn't paralyzed.
I wondered how I was still breathing.
I wondered why I'd been condemned to a fate like this.
There wasn't anything for my mind to do but wander, and wander it did- to expectedly awful places.

There wasn't anything I could do.
I just wanted to be somewhere else- be someone else.

Just... be someone else.

~~~
Charlotte's POV
~~~

I'd been working tirelessly for the past few hours, motivated entirely by dread.
Karelia.
I couldn't let her suffer. I didn't know where she was, but something about the rose petals scattered at the doorstep... it didn't sit right with me.
They knew where she lived, whoever they were. They were sick enough to leave such a horrible hint, whoever they were.

It all seemed so... familiar.
I shook the feeling off, continuing to cut out the the fliers I'd printed out. There were four to a page to save money, a photo of her on every one of them.
It was sort of horrifying that the police weren't taking this more seriously. With a disappearance like this- with the implication of a stalker... Even if they weren't concerned about Karelia, they should be concerned about other girls in the area. It was uncharacteristic for the department here, too.

I was no conspiracy theorist (... Okay, maybe slightly), but it made me feel like somebody else was pulling the strings.

Papers safely bundled together, I went to head out the door, pausing as I noticed the keys hanging from the hook next to the door.
My own keys, of course. My mother hadn't been back tonight, but I wasn't particularly worried. The less she was here the better.
I didn't want to deal with her right now.

It would be far better for my own safety if I didn't head out in the dead of night, and I knew that, but I felt I couldn't wait any longer. I slipped on my shoes and took my keys as I walked outside, snapping a rubber band over the bundle of fliers anxiously as I closed the door behind me.

The street was dark and cold. Its looming shadows, at every corner, felt as if something or someone might strike from within them. I had a job to do, though, so I held my head high, even as the windows rattled and the shade darkened further.

I reached into my satchel and pulled out a roll of tape- one of many- leaning up against the pole of a broken street light as I pulled a flier out. I taped it up carefully, making sure the wind couldn't tear it off before I stepped back, satisfied.

That's when I heard a soft scraping sound behind me.
I turned back. My heart felt frozen, but my body felt pissed and ready to fight at the earliest opportunity.
There was nothing there.
Though uncomfortable, I continued on my way, doing my best to pay the noises of the night no mind. If they kept their distance, I would keep mine.

And all night, though it surprised me, they didn't bother me at all.

~~~
Karelia's POV
~~~

When I next woke, I realized that I had gotten one of my wishes. Though I hadn't managed to be someone else- such a thing seemed impossible- I had managed to pass out until the end of the odd surgery.
I'd woken upon satin sheets in a master bedroom that felt... too good to be true. It was as though I was looking through a crack in reality, and on the other side, heaven had come to greet me.
In other words, it was too good to be true.
The games that lined the walls catered to my interests perfectly. I wanted to wonder how they knew what I liked, but deep down, I already knew.
There was nothing I could hide.

I tried to pull myself out of bed only to wince immediately at the pain, pulling up my nightgown (Pink and lacy, somewhat too small. Had it been borrowed from somebody else?) to see the rough stitching.
I hissed softly to myself. I... wasn't confident that that would heal as well as I liked.

I laid back, groaning as I raised a hand to my head. Awful memories made for awful headaches, and I was short of neither.
I would have liked for it to remain peaceful that way, but it wasn't to last. A sudden warping sound caught my attention and I tiredly opened my eyes...
Only to be met with him.
His smile had faded and his sharp teeth didn't show, his lips set in a grim line. It was almost as if he was sulking for having to deal with me, and I would have laughed if the pain didn't prevent it.

"... You're still alive." He muttered, seeming bitter. I only nodded, feeling my apprehension slip for a moment.
I wondered if this was an ability of his, or just the pain muddling my brain.

"Fuck off." I groaned, flipping him the bird as I pulled the sheets over myself.

I really didn't expect him to listen, but perhaps it was because I was still too damaged to use. Taking deep breaths to try to calm myself, I stared up at the ceiling as my vision began to swim.
Perhaps that was my prompt to finally die?
My hopes were far too high. I could hear noise from elsewhere in the household. Strange noises for such a place. Children playing- my skin crawled at the thought of why they might be here- screams of pain- expected- soft melodies...
I focused on the latter as I drifted into sleep again. It wasn't that I wanted to, but my body insisted- it needed it if it was going to heal.