Act 1 | Chapter 23

It was a long ride. The anticipation of what I was about to do was almost killing me. I rode the bus for an hour to complete another side of Bates County. I got off in an older neighborhood and pulled my trunk from the bus. I made sure the vehicle was out of sight before turning around and push in the trunk into the forest. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done, pushing that trunk over the uneven and snowy surface that was the forest ground. Rocks, tree roots, and uneven path are made the journey longer than it needed to be. Almost forty minutes passed before I reached a frozen lake. I was probably three miles out of the city, and probably in the next district at this point. There was a clearing beneath an awning of trees that was practically untouched by snow. "This place is perfect." I thought, my heart thumping faster and faster.

I unlocked the trunk and opened it up. Maria was still inside, tied up and motionless. I reached past her and got out of the shovel. The ground from what I could tell was hard. Slamming the shovel into it, I could already tell that digging a hole deep enough to bury Maria would take some time. It doesn't need to be very big, just deep. I can curl her up, and wrap her in duck tape. That way I can just make a small hole down. It took too long to make the first hole. It felt like hours passed, but in reality, it was only a couple minutes. I made a small impact on the ground and was able to start working from there. I'll spare you the details, but by the time I had actually dug the hole deep enough, it was almost four in the morning. The night was still black, and Maria hadn't woken up yet. I was sweating under the layers of winter clothing, as I tossed the shovel aside. The light from the flashlight was the only thing that was helping me see.

"Finally." I groaned, laying down on the hard earth to rest for a moment. I was out of breath, and completely exhausted. There wasn't any food with me, which didn't help. I rested there for a bit, and after a couple of minutes, I got back up and started walking over to the trunk. I took a deep breath and heaved, pushing it over, and dumping Maria and the content's inside, out. Her limp body rolled a bit, and I walked over to her. She reeked of alcohol. I don't know how much she had to drink, but I could still smell it. Must have been a lot, considering my allergies usually prevent me from smelling anything. Her visible skin was crawling with goosebumps, and despite being knocked out, she was shivering. I climbed onto her, sitting on her legs. Her arms and legs were bound together by the duck tape, making them useless. Internally, I was freaking out. I could go to jail for this. "What if something goes wrong?" The thought of going to prison did scare me, but the thoughts where nothing compared to the anger that I have kept built up for years. All the frustrating moments of my life, feelings of uselessness, neglect, regret, and embarrassment where all about to come out. I couldn't hold them in anymore. Hitting a pillow or punching a wall didn't help, but when I hit Maria in the back of the head, it was like a weight being lifted off my shoulder. I've been able to conquer a few of my fears, so why not add another one to the list. I'll stand up to Maria, for one in my life, and never have to do it again.

In all the horror movie I've seen, my favorite scenes are the ones where the killer toys with the victim. Has fun with them. They play with them. I was about to become the killer, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. I have to put on a face. Scare her. Make her afraid. Taking the flashlight, I leaned it up against a nearby rock, so that there was enough light for me to see without holding it. The knife was off to the side slightly, and still in arms reach. "I'm ready." I thought and grabbed the duck tape around Maria's mouth. I pulled the long strip off, and looked down at her, slapping her across the face as hard as I could.

"Shit!" She yelled, shaking her head a bit. "W- Where am I?" Maria asked dazed and confused. She tried moving her arms, soon realizing that they were bound together. Her legs shook violently as they laid down against the cold ground

"Nowhere," I replied, speaking with some confidence in my voice.

"Zoey?" She looked up at me with a confused expression. I don't know what she was thinking, but I was interested to know.

"Yes. It's me."

"The fuck are you doing you shitty pushover. Where's everyone?" She asked, still a bit high and drunk. The slurring of her words and the stench of her breath were evidence enough.

"Oh, they are far from here. It's just you and me out here. All alone." I couldn't help but smile. This felt exhilarating. Maria was bound up, and I could do anything I wanted to her. "I'm also not quite sure what I'll do with you yet, Maria? Well, I know what I'm going to do, but it's how that I'm not sure about."

"You're making no sense freak."

"Hm?" I reached for the knife and held it above her, "I'm sure you know what this is?"

"A knife. So what?"

I gripped the handle tightly, my fingers locking themselves around it.

"I know it was you, Maria," I said in a lot more serious tone. "You did it."

"Did what?" There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Hearing it just made me want to stab the knife through her right at that moment.

"My Painting, you ruined it!!!" I screamed, "You ripped it! You threw it away!"

"You have no proof," Maria replied with a shit-eating grin.

"No, I know it was you! There's no other explanation."

"And what are you going to do?" She chuckled, "Kill me for it? You don't have the gut's, bitch."

I stared at her in silence, breathing heavily. The knife fell from my hand as I slammed my fist into Maria's gut.

"Fuck!" She yelled as she gagged on her own spit. It felt good hitting her. I wanted to do it again. As I winded my fist back up to hit her again, she spits into my face. It landed just under my eye, causing me to stumble back and rub the spit off. Maria growled at me. "That's it." I thought, ramming my fist into her chest. Maria coughed and tried to regain her breath.

"Admit it," I growled back, rubbing my now sore knuckles.

"Alright, Alright! I did it! Is that it?" She asked, annoyed. I sat there and took a few deep breaths to calm down. My eyes closed and I took a moment to remember what I was doing. I wanted to see her humiliated. I was going to make her feel it. I want to see her in pain.

"No," I replied in a shaky voice, grabbing the knife again. "I'm done with you, and your shit." It felt empowering to see Maria like this, bound up, and unable to do anything. I grabbed her shirt, and lifted the fabric up enough, and quickly cut it open. A long gash was made down the middle, revealing her bare breasts underneath, as well as her smooth skin.

"H- Hey!" She yelled, "What the hell!?"

I stared at her smooth skin. It wasn't like mine, but it was still smooth. Her bare breasts round and an averaged size. I placed my hand between them and felt her heart beating faster and faster.

"I want to see it," I said in a menacing tone. "I want to see what it looks like. Blood. I want to know if it really looks the way it does in the movies." A smile formed across my face as I brought the knife up, and pressed the blade gently across her skin, just under her bare chest. "I don't want your clothes to soak it all up." I took a moment to breathe. Six years, and finally, I was getting back at her. Finally. In one slow motion, I pressed the knife deeper into the skin and dragged it across the width of her torso. Maria let out a blood-curdling scream, as she squirmed under me, trying desperately to get away.

"Y- You fucking psycho!" She yelled. The blood rose up from the open wound and began dripping down her pale skin. It was like a small river flowing from inside her body. I grinned and pressed my hand up against the wound, pushing more blood out, and causing Maria to cry out more. It felt warm, having the thick liquid flow between my fingers.

"It looks nothing like in the movies." I replied, "It looks so much more... interesting." Chuckling a bit, I took the knife and made another large cut across her body. Once again, she screamed in pain, flailing her soon to be corpse around.

"F- Fuck you!" Maria yelled in desperation. It was like music to my ears, to hear her screams of pain and agony. My heart beating with excitement, it was racing. I couldn't stop smiling, it was too enjoyable.

"You have no idea how long I have waited to see you humiliated. Like how you humiliated me." I laughed in her face as I took my bloody hand and smacked it across her cheek. She tried keeping a straight face, but couldn't. I could see the fear in her eyes, the horror. It was the same expression I would give her every time she humiliated me. Locked me out of the school locker room in nothing but a towel, made my trip during presentations, ripping my clothes, and verbally abusing me. I didn't feel pity for Maria. No. Grabbing the knife again, I raised it high, quickly squashed another cut across her breast, and then the other.

"Wh- what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Maria cried out, tears rolling down her bloody cheeks. Her body was shivering, and cold. Her chest was heaving up and down as she breathed rapidly.

"What's wrong with me?!" I yelled, "What's wrong with you! I never did anything to you! I just tried minding my own business, but for years you humiliated me, shoved me, hurt me, and you ruined my chance to get into that art school, and away from home!"

Maria was crying. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from all the tears rolling down her face.

"S- So?" She whimpered, "They'll do it again another day!" Maria kept fighting, trying so desperately to get away from me.

"No, I'll have graduated by then." I frowned and looked down at her wound's. Her once smooth skin was now torn up and stained in blood. She was weak, I could tell. The fighting had stopped, and her body had gone limp.

"Do you treat others like me?" I asked.

"W- What?" Maria replied in a raspy voice.

"Do you treat other people like shit? Or is it just me?"

"No." She cried, "You're the one I hate the most."

I stared at her again, slowly raising the knife high above my head. Both hands were gripped around the handle. I bent over to look her in the eyes.

"Those who don't appreciate life do not deserve life," I told her in a calming voice, before thrusting the crimson-stained knife into her stomach. The first wound does go deeper than breaking the skin. Maria tried to yell, but instead gagged, as blood began pouring out of the sides of her mouth. The knife had gone deep, pumping out a small fountain of her juices. I violently ripped the knife from her gut and thrust it back into her, this time in her chest. Again, and again, and again. A new hole was made with each thrust, every time, more blood spilling out. I started to scream as the thrusting became faster. My heart was racing, my hand's completely drenched in Maria's blood. I was shaking a bit. It was an odd feeling. It felt good. Great even. The screaming soon turned into laughter as I made one last cut across her body. I thrust the knife into her neck and ripped it out. Maria had stopped screaming sometime after the stabbing had begun. Her eyes lifeless, and her body motionless. Blood dripped from her mouth and across her entire body. The ground was stained around me. She was dead. I had killed her.