The Sum of Two Lovers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This short story is roughly about a recently freed serial killer thanks to a pandemic sweeping the U.S. He roams around picking off stragglers until he meets who he believes is Ms. Right. Enjoy.

Submitted: December 22, 2009

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Submitted: December 22, 2009

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Carrying a heavy body bag over a large, pest-infested corpse-pile, I realize how beautiful the San Francisco landscape is crumbling beneath itself. The buildings fall down, brick by brick, in unison. This place is perfect for me, now; there’s no one to ruin my fun anymore. It seems as though everyone, but me, is dead.
I’m a murderer, I thought, I’m going to Prison—to Hell. This was back in 2009 when I made my first kill. I felt guilty at the time, but I began to treasure each kill—savor each kill. It is a game to me.
Well, it was a game to me until the officials of California imprisoned me for my wrongdoings. They found me at a local restaurant, those officers did. I made my eightieth kill just before they captured me. I was there because I was celebrating that kill with myself.
They’re all dead now. I’ve spent two years, four months, and seventeen days in that prison—it’s funny what you keep track of when there’s nothing else to do. I was in there, rotting, until this glorious event occurred. Still, I never figured out what caused this; everyone just… died. I don’t even know how I escaped my cell.
I am better off a loner anyway. Carrying the body bag with my… one-hundred and fifty-seventh kill I believe, I walk down the pile of decomposing corpses that I began in an attempt to clean up my streets. I drop the meat bag onto the side of the pile and glance upward.
This pile is nearly five times my height, and well, I’m six feet, eight inches tall. Most of the bodies were just lying on the streets too. In fact, out of the hundreds of people here, I’ve only killed maybe fifty or sixty—stragglers just like me.
Allowing the stragglers the belief that I am their friend brings back the good times. It gets even better when they realize I’m not. I chuckle at the thought. I look down at a small pool of blood, drainage from my corpse-pile, and realize how much I want to find another straggler. Just another hopeless survivor. That’s all I need.
Stumbling, I regain control of my body. Thinking about my pleasures nearly made me slip into my dreams. That would definitely not be the best thing to do in a world controlled, once again, by the natural beasts, here, adept to kill. I better find a place to stay.
Glancing upward, I spot a figure retreating behind the roof of a large apartment building. I quickly decide that I’m going to avoid that building. I’m tired, and I’m not up for this shit right now. Entering the building across the street, I find a bed immediately in the front room. The room is completely white—excluding the dark brown burn marks possibly caused by the lighting and other electrical hazards. What is this place?
I shake my head. I do not care where I am, I’m staying here… but not in this room. I continue walking into a hallway illuminated only by a two-foot hole in the far-wall. This hall is completely white too. On the right-hand side, there are three wooden doors, also painted white. I decide to enter the furthest.
This room isn’t white! It has dark red walls and posters of various heavy metal bands throughout. This place is filled with goblets and pentagrams. It’s very demented and evil feeling, but that’s exactly what I like. The bed is white, but it looks rather comfortable. I sleep here for now. I need the rest.
‡ ‡ ‡


I awaken to the sight of a teenage girl. Instinctively, I shove her out of my bed and rise. She was asleep—not anymore. She stands up and looks at me in disgust.
“What’s wrong with you?” The girl screeches, flailing her arms like only a cartoon would.
“Me?” I roar back, “You decided to sleep with me.”
The teenager looks even angrier now, “Well, this is where I live, asshole! You came into my home and slept in my bed—not the other way around.”
I start to feel a little remorse. She didn’t kill me as I slept, so I should be slightly grateful. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t know this was your home—.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” The girl states, changing her mood suddenly, “I rather enjoy sleeping with someone else.” She begins to blush a little and continues, “It makes me feel… safer.”
“My name’s Raymond.” I respond, “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here with you a tad bit longer.”
Here is my straggler. I’m smiling wider than ever. The girl looks at me and nods. She, then, removes herself from the room to grab some food. There’s definitely something about her that is different from the others. Does she trust me already? It’s not hard to believe; she’s a teenage girl. Most girls her age need someone to look up to. This may be my easiest victim yet.
“Hey, Raymond,” She announces from the front room, “Come here.”
“Alright.” I answer, walking out of the dark room into the bright hallway. I see her in the front room wearing loose, black clothing with her long, black hair. She’s eating a sandwich. Where the hell did she find that?
“Hey, where’d you get that?” I ask.
Her response was simply a finger pointing to a refrigerator, “Make yourself something if you want; everything in there is still good.”
I open the refrigerator door, and I’m instantly amazed by how much wonderful food is in there. There’s bread, jelly, peanut butter, ham, hamburgers, condiments, and so much more. I quickly tell myself that I’m going to feast!
I grab just a bit of everything and start mixing a sinister concoction together. Unconsciously putting ingredients together, I begin to wonder if it’ll be any good. I finish creating the ultimate sandwich and begin my engorging.
“What did you make?” She asks, confused.
“Well, I don’t know. I’m going to call it the Demon Persona Burger.”
She’s disgusted. I laugh and she investigates further, “What’s in the thing, Ray?”
Looking down at the ultimate sandwich, I sigh and answer, “Huh… I don’t remember. It’s pretty good though.”
“My name’s Eve, by the way.” She declares, changing the subject.
“Well, it’s nice to have met you, Eve.” I smile, eating more of my delicious Demon Persona Burger.
She begins to speak again, “Where’d you come from anyway?”
“I’ve always lived here,” I retort, “How about you?”
She forms a frown upon her face, “Me too…”
“You don’t like it here, do you? Why don’t you leave?”
Eve looks at me with a face full of sorrow and continues to answer, “I really can’t. This is the only city I’ve ever known. This is the only building I’ve ever truly known. I’m attached to this place.”
“I’m sorry…” I apologize. I offer my sandwich out to her in an attempt to cheer her up a little bit. She giggles a little but declines the offer.
“Can we go back into my room?” She asks, politely.
“Yeah, sure.”
She’s attractive. To be honest, I think I could make a lasting relationship with her rather than making her another victim of mine. She’s innocent—like the others—but still different. Age shouldn’t matter in a relationship anyway, right? We are the last ones standing.
She guides me, hand-in-hand, to the dark, cold room. Eve sets me down on her bed and smiles. Is she really going to do what I think she is?
“I really must thank you for staying with me,” She begins, putting her hands on my neck, “I don’t know what I’d do without someone in my life.”
She’s standing over my lap now, and she leans down to give me a kiss. Eve kisses my neck, and I look up at the ceiling in amusement. Soon, we are embracing each other, and she continues to kiss my neck. I begin to close my eyes and notice a black and white sign on the wall. It reads “Insanity Ward”.
I close my eyes regardless, and we continue. After a few minutes, Eve removes her lips from my neck and says, “I’d probably do this.”
She twists my head and neck, laughing maniacally. Realizing that I am her victim, I fade to black.

¤The End¤


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