Stillness.
Quiet.
That was what surrounded Erik when he finally came to and opened his eyes. He could feel his head pound and pulse. He felt the full ache of the stabs in his leg and back. It made him feel alive, like he was truly living life. He inhaled embracing every ache, every shot of pain. It felt good to hurt, therapeutic even. He released the breath with a smile.
If he were honest, he couldn't say he didn't expect this exact scenario to play out- Well, he didn't expect to get hit with a frying pan. But from the moment she asked to pee, he knew that freeing her would give her the chance and the option to rebel. He also knew that she'd find a way, if at all possible, to escape him if given the chance and he was very willing to provide the opportunity. In fact, part of him hoped she'd defy him if only to make life more interesting.
Ivy was definitely gone by now, he determined. According to his rolex it had already been an hour. She'd definitely fled far away. How long would it be before the rescue calvary of incompetent and overfed cops showed up to his door, he wondered sitting up and climbing to his feet. Could be any minute.
He rolled his neck, pressing pressure point in his hand which had proven effective for migraines. He then targeted his temples and rubbed the top of his head on the way to his home bar where he poured himself straight vodka to toss back.
"Ah," he gasped. If he was going to prison, he'd prefer to be drunk. "Ivy, Ivy, Ivy," he muttered into his short glass, swirling the liquid absentmindedly. He listened for the sound of an ambush.. An announcement that he needed to come out with his hands up.. A wailing siren.
His his glass in hand, he smirked. "Ivy, Ivy... Ivy."
Smiling, he sighed and went into his surveillance room for his Bereta Px4 Storm. If he was going to prison, he'd prefer to enjoy the ride thoroughly.. and it wouldn't stop here. No, the only thing Ivy had accomplished was taking his interest in her from a flickering flame to a wildfire. Looking at the monitor, he could see Mrs. Stevens and the nosey ass cop bickering.
He patted his body but his keys were gone. "Ivy, Ivy, Ivy," he repeated with a grin, finding his spare.
"You did this," he laughed on his trip to the holding room. He unlocked the door and pointed the gun at the officer's head. "Knock knock."
She raised her hands. "Okay," she said defensively trying to calm him. "You don't need to do this, Erik. We aren't a threat to you locked up like this.. What are we gonna d-"
POP
Mrs. Stevens' sat up in her seat, face frozen as the lady cop's banana pudding laid split. Erik pointed the gun at her next. She frowned and adjusted her body in her seat, still filled with dignity. He loved it. She didn't beg or plead.
"Give me that glass, boy," she gestured to his vodka and he stared at her, enjoying her boldness. He gave it up, giving her the remainder of the alcohol in his glass watching her down it. "Pass me an apple," she gestured to the spread he'd left for her. He could see she'd eaten some. He passed her the apple and watched as she graciously and hurriedly bit it, chewing as if today were any other day.
"You got some interesting genetics. Was your mother as.. interesting as you and your daughter?" His head tilted trying to observe all he could. He waited as she ate the apple, genuinely curious. Finally, she spoke.
"Little boy?... I've been around long enough to know the difference between a sickness and a demon. And you, you're the worst kind of demon. I see em.. all over you." She looked him over in disgust.
"That's too bad, mommy dearest," Erik pouted. "I'd have hoped you'd like to get to know your grandchildren and be part of the family.. you know, after I go raw and fuck the dog shit out your pretty ass daughter."
"You will never be a part of my family, Erik. I don't give a damn if you did come from me. You're a demon," she sneered.
"So you did know." Erik smirked licking his lips.
"Of course," she scoffed dismissively looking him up and down with disappointment. "Took me a while, but it's you. And I should've aborted you when I had the chance. You're sick," she sneered again.
"Oh I'm sick? I'M SICK? Whose fault is that ma? WHOSE FUCKIN FAULT IS THAT FUCKIN WHORE? STUPID MOTHAFUCKIN ASS SLUT BITCH? POP. "FUCK Y-" POP. "BITCH." POP. POP POP POP POP POP POP.
Erik panted, seeing red in his mind as he stared down at her lifeless body, his nose flaring in anger.
"Damnit. You made me do this," he gritted through his perfect teeth panting until he could swallow and calm himself.
"..Shit..."
He walked up closer to her, slumped back in her seat. He eyes were still open. Piercing green eyes. He'd dreamed of those eyes for years. It wasn't a coincidence she and Ivy had ended up in his neck of the woods, he'd been keeping tabs on them for years planting seeds and creating ripples of issues to heard them from afar. They were but sheep to him, but he was haunted... tormented by those green eyes. He shut them, kissing the older woman gently on the lips and pulling away. It was the only affection he'd ever get from his mother now that she was dead.
Abandoning the apartment in anticipation of a police swarm, he packed up a portion of his materials and headed out jumping into his car and riding out to cruise the streets looking for any signs of the runaway Ivy.
---
Ivy stood in a gas station looking around hungrily, but she had no money. She asked the guy behind the counter to call 911 for her, showing him her leg as if he couldn't see the blood and her ripped capris. He immediately dialed and Ivy stood in pain having walked as far as she could.
Her stomach growled, but the guy didn't seem the type to throw her a line and let her grab a bag of chips. She thought of stealing it, but she needed the focus to be on her ordeal. She didn't need complications.
Looking around, she was too afraid to wait outside even if it meant being able to sit on the curb. She made eye contact, a hard task, with the guy behind the counter and sat slowly and gently on the floor. He was obviously not pleased but he didn't say anything about it.
Ivy sighed and held her stomach before feeling tears fall down her face from the stress in her chest. Why her? Why did all of this need to happen to her? She felt horrible for leaving her mom behind, but she had to get help. She was too scared to stay there a second longer. Soon the cops would be able to rescue her mom though. Hopefully they took the Dr.'s body and did something with it. Burn it, something.
Customers came in at slow and spread out rates and some ignored her while some looked horrified and confused, turning away. Either way, Ivy was severely uncomfortable and self-conscious.
---
Araya sat next to her sister watching her lose color. The nurses looked as though they pitied her, sitting up waiting for a savior that may never come. She wouldn't give up on Dr. Stevens however. He wasn't there yet but he'd show.
"Hold on, Draya, please," she whispered touching her sister's cold hand. "Hey.. remember that time we ran and made it all the way to Vegas but we didn't know he was tracking our phones?" She smiled. "Remember he came to get us? I couldn't sit for a week. Then he gave us these," she smiled trailing a light finger down Draya's scarred side. "He was obsessed with us. I couldn't go anywhere without him grabbing my ass.."
"We don't have any ass," Araya spoke in Draya's voice wishing it was really her. Her face fell, tears threatening to take over again. She couldn't fool herself. "Draya. Draya, please.. just.. hold on. For me.."
