Into the Woods

Chapter 6

The Killer
**Trigger Warning**
Domestic Violence, Suicide

I don't know how long I've been running in the forest. My adrenaline had kicked in when I heard those sirens. My chest is squeezing my lungs hard, and my legs are cramping up. I chastise myself. Damn, boy, you're out of fucking shape. I run until I can't run anymore, and then I collapse on the cool, mossy floor of the forest. Freedom smells sweet. I breathe in the dirt and fresh air of the untouched forest that I find myself in.

It's so peaceful and quiet. I lay there and breathe not know how long this freedom will last, but I plan on making the most of it. I take this moment to assess my situation. I'm pretty sure that I dislocated my shoulder. That can be fixed, but it will be painful to push it back into place. I stand and psych myself up before slamming my shoulder into the tree. Fuck! It was agonizing, but I can now move my shoulder and arm.

Pain doesn't bother me. I've been feeling pain for as long as I can remember. My father was an angry son of a bitch. He took it out on my mother and me; she was so weak. She never fought back but just took it till she passed out. Once ailing ole mom passed out, it was my turn. I never showed the bastard weakness. I would stare right into his eyes as he beat the shit out of me. I want to say that he was a drunk asshole, but I can't even give him that excuse. He was just mean.

My mom took the easy way out of this life when I was twelve. She slit her wrists and bled out in our bathtub. I'm the one who found her. It made me quite curious. The deep cuts into her wrists and blood-tainted water intrigued me. I wasn't sad about her death; I was disgusted and ashamed that she never found the guts to leave his sorry ass. That's the first thing that I planned to do. I was getting the hell away from that bastard as soon as I could.

By sixteen, I was gone, but not before I killed that good-for-nothing son of a bitch, poor excuse of a father. I think back to that night with such satisfaction. I still see him sitting in his chair, watching the evening news. I snuck up behind him, sliced his throat without hesitation, and practically decapitated the mother fucker. I grin at that thought. The authorities put me in juvie till I turned twenty-one. Dumb shits left my sick ass out, and I haven't stopped killing ever since.

I love the hunt. The prep work. The stalking of my victim. Their blood on my hands. The feeling of their life leaving their body. There's nothing more exhilarating. God, I've missed every single second of the thrill and the process; their screaming is music to my ears, and the look I get when they give up and go limp in my hands. I would give my left nut to have that feeling again.

I hear something and tense up. What the hell? My heart beats faster when I realize I'm not alone in these woods. I try my best to figure out what that sound is. Is it laughing? Women laughing? I sit up with renewed energy. My cock twitches at the beautiful sound. I stand up and walk towards the laughter. It gets stronger and stronger the closer that I get. Once I'm close enough to see where the beautiful sound is coming from, I stop. Fuck, I miss the sound of the female voice.

Crouching down in the thicket gives me an imperfect view, but I can make out four women's images: three blondes and one brunette. The brunette is sitting in the water, laughing hysterically. Her three blonde friends are holding their sides as they laugh uncontrollably. I find myself smiling along with them.

The brunette finally stands and walks across the creek to join her friends. I'm close enough to hear their conversation.

"Oh, shit! Our phones!" One of the blondes exclaims as she pulls her phone from her back pocket.