Prince Charming

"I tried to tell Bianca" he said, "Oh, I said it so many times. I told her I would go to any extent for her. I gave her my whole heart."

Charlie rubbed the knife on his jeans, causing a few threads to come undone, and sighed heavily.

"When she asked me what my dream was, I told her she was my dream." His expression turned to one of anger.

"And do you know what her reply was? She scoffed at me and told me that other people can't be a person's dream"

He looked at me. A look so sad and heartbroken that I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

"I asked her", he continued, "what I meant to her. I asked her if she even loved me the way I loved her. She didn't answer"

He looked thoughtful, "Actually, she never answered. And she never will. To any questions. Ever." He winked at me. "If you know what I mean."

A sadistic smile crept up his face as he watched me digest the information.

"W-why?", I asked him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you mean why I killed her. Well... I was angry." He shut his eyes. "She was making me angry. And I didn't like that feeling. That emotion. And when I was done with her...", he blinked rapidly, and then slowly smiled. A manic smile that made my blood run cold. "...it was like the angels were singing. The feel of her blood on my hands was exhilarating. Her lifeless body just... lay there."

His eyes glinted with excitement.

"Or", he grinned, "If you're asking why I am telling all this to you; well, you are not going to live long enough to tell anyone else."

I jerked at that, even though I knew what was going to happen.

He was a psychopath. And I was going to die.

I looked around. We were standing on the roof of my apartment. Even if I screamed, I would be dead by the time the neighbours or the police got here.

I glanced down. The drop was high. I would die immediately.

"Don't do this Charlie", I said.

"Don't do what Wilson? Kill you? I am afraid that cannot be prevented.

"Don't", I repeated weakly.

"So, Dr. Abby Wilson, any last words?", he asked, then he grinned evilly. "I look forward to tearing your skin apart."

I looked at him mutely. My mind was swirling with thoughts. I needed to escape.

Fast.

Then:

"You know Charlie,", I said hoarsely. I cleared my throat, "I think you just need a hug. I think... all you need is some love. A show of affection."

He looked at me cautiously. Then with amusement. A moment later, probably sensing no harm in what I was going to do, he stepped forward, his arms spreading open, holding the knife in one hand.

I eyed the knife warily. He noticed this and chuckled, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Yet."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hugged him tightly. Steadily, I started swaying with him, like we were slow- dancing.

"I wonder how your blood would taste", he whispered into my ear.

I continued swaying, slowly stepping to the right, ignoring him- Making sure I didn't falter in my footing.

He didn't even realise that his back was facing the short wall of the roof.

And then, with all my strength, I leaned into him and pushed him off the roof. His body bent backwards, and the imbalance caused him to fall. Head-first.

It all happened so fast he didn't even have time to scream. I peered over the wall and saw his body lying in an odd angle, a halo of blood surrounding his head. The knife had skidded away from him, its head glinting angrily in the night.

My breaths came out shakily and I ran down the stairs and into my house. At last, I managed to find my phone on the bedside table.

I held it, my hands shaking, and dialled the police.

The End