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Let the Training Begin

Novel By: KCNiemi

Zayne Walker is a charming nineteen year old serial killer whose bored playing with victims by himself, what he needs is a partner. After a chance meeting in the park with Ray Anderson, a quiet and emotionally damaged sixteen year old; his search has come to an end. Now the game is on for Zayne to manipulate Ray into becoming the perfect partner: in both bloodlust and passion for killing. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Jan 17, 2013    Reads: 49    Comments: 11    Likes: 9   

Chapter Three

I stared at the numbers on the slip of paper, tuning out the argument my mom was having on the phone with my dad over which one of them had to take me this weekend.

This was a regular occurrence at either household, seeing as neither wanted to have to deal with their freaky son longer than necessary.

Honestly though, it got harder and harder to ignore the insults and not hurt something.

"You take the freak! I already have plans that DON'T involve HIM!" My mom shouted from downstairs, probably pacing back and forth with her hand pulling blonde hair out in frustration.

"I don't CARE if you wanted to take the slut out! It's your turn with the boy!"

It's as though they don't care if I can hear them or not; you would think that they would want to stay on the "freak's" good side.

It's disgusting to think that I was created by those two imbeciles I have to call mom and dad.

"Don't bother! I'll stay at a friend's house!" I shouted at her from my room; already packing my bag with spare clothes and hygiene products.

"What friend?" She asked me in disbelief, blocking my escape as I tried passing her in the living room.

"As if you care where I stay." I sneered at her, slamming my shoulder into her as I headed towards the door; slamming it on my way out.

Walking up to the convenience store at the end of Margaret Street, I slipped two quarters into the pay phone and called Zayne.

It rang twice before he answered the phone. "Hello?"

"It's Ray." I stated simply, leaning against the glass wall of the pay phone.

"What happened?" He asked, well more like demanded.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I promise. Look, would it be okay if I stayed with you for the weekend?" I asked hesitantly; there was no reason for him to say yes after all, I'm just some kid he met in the park.

"Where are you?"

"At Margret Street's Convenience Store; I'm using their pay phone." I told him quickly, I don't know why I was feeling so nervous all of a sudden.

Zayne was silent for a couple of moments before he replied.

"I'll come get you, stay where you are." He ordered in a tone of voice I found hard to argue with.

"Okay." I complied meekly, shifting my feet nervously.

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Ray." He told me in a smug voice; he hung up before I could ask why he sounded smug.

I waited for five minutes before I saw Zayne's truck; deciding to meet him halfway, I started walking towards the slowing down vehicle.

"Hey." I greeted as I got in, he nodded in reply with a small smirk.

"So are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to force it out of you."

I sighed in irritation, but told him what happened anyways.

By the whitening of his knuckles, I guessed he was pretty angry; at who, I had no idea.

"Tell you what, Ray. You can come and stay with me whenever your parents decide you are unworthy of their presence." He told me in an incensed manner, though I could tell by how he hissed out the word parents as if it was physically painful for him that he wasn't angry with me.

For that, I was glad; I really didn't want to lose Zayne's companionship.

I was really surprised by how far out in the middle of nowhere Zayne lived.

To the left, all I could see were trees. To the right, guess what? More trees!

I've never really enjoyed nature, too dirty for my taste; there were too many filthy animals and smelly plants for me to ever find enjoyment in camping.

"Why?" I asked incredulously, he seemed to understand what I was asking; even though I could be referring to several things. "Because it's private and away from people."

"I see."

But I didn't, not really.

Sure I would love to have more privacy, but I would hate the inconvenience of how much gas I would have to waste to go back to town.

We finally arrived after ten more minutes of driving passed trees, oh joy.

The house was simple, not too small but not exactly large either; I liked it. When we walked in, I was overwhelmed by the scent of bleach.

"What's with the bleach?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously; to which he only laughed. "

I had black mold in the living room, I guess it hasn't aired out all the way yet."


"What, did you think I killed someone and used the bleach to get rid of the blood?"

"I don't know that was pretty specific." I responded with a shaky grin.

He just smiled secretively and led me to a spare room.

"You can use this room whenever you come and stay. Dinner will be ready soon; do you have any allergies?" He asked casually, opening the window to let some fresh air in.

"Not that I know of. What are you cooking?" I asked curiously; going over to sit on the surprisingly comfortable bed.

"Spaghetti and meatballs." He replied heading out the door and towards what I assumed would be the kitchen.

Choosing to explore the house, I went to check out the living room for signs of mold.

Feeling the walls for any moisture, I was relieved when I found what looked like wet anti-mold paint on a large spot behind the couch.

"Seriously, Ray? Do I really strike you as the careless type? If I were to kill someone it sure as hell wouldn't be in my living room."

I jumped in surprise, turning around quickly to stare at a smirking Zayne.

"Give me a heads up that you're there and you can keep that record of no deaths in your living room." I muttered, clutching my chest and trying to calm my racing heart.

"Oh please; you're way too young to have a heart attack. Anyways, dinner is done Sherlock."

"Ha ha, very funny bastard."

"Come eat before I hurt you for that bastard comment." He threatened, and I got the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to follow through with that threat.

But I wasn't scared, that wasn't why I was running to the kitchen; no, it was more like I didn't want to disappoint him.

How strange.


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