Story #11 - Monsters and Demons

Hi, everybody! The travelling's going okay. Our plane got delayed a bit, but that gave me time to type up my entire story. I tried for all-out horror this time. It's not too gory, but I think it's rather creepy. I also experimented a bit with point of view and a slightly crazy narrator. Enjoy! :) Oh, and as always, a million thanks to those who have read and/or reviewed.

Title: Monsters and Demons
Warnings: creepiness, stalking, horror, murder, insanity (nothing too graphic on any of these, though)
Summary: An encounter between a killer and his victim.
Length: ~1,500 words
Notes: First person point of view, but also with a bit of second person ("you"). Present tense. Genre is horror.

Monsters and Demons

I watch you. You stumble along the sidewalk in your red stripper heels, giggling at nobody and nothing. Have you had a bit too much to drink today, love? Or maybe you are just giddy from your night out.

                Silly, stupid girl. Don’t you know that when you go to a night out, you really ought to go to a night in? There are monsters out here in Chicago, especially at night.

                Maybe you are beginning to realize that. I watch as you wrap your arms around yourself and glance behind you. Silly thing. There’s nothing behind you that you have to worry about. I’m in front of you.

                You will pass me soon, though, especially since you have quickened your pace. Do you think you can outrun the demons? The monsters in your life?

                No. No, you cannot. I know that better than anyone. You can try everything to hide from your demons, but you cannot destroy them. They will find you. You can run from them inside and they will follow you outside.

                You probably imagine yourself getting back to your nice, warm house or apartment or wherever you pretend to live. You probably see yourself cranking up the heat, slipping on a nightie – is it the same red silk as the dress you are wearing right now? You probably see yourself slipping on your red silk nightie and then you think you will go to sleep. You foolishly believe that all the dark shadows, the mean parts of yourself that you do not want to face, will disappear when you close your eyes. But you are wrong. They will still be there, in your house or apartment, hiding under your bed or behind your closed eyelids.

                The only way to stop the demons and monsters is to accept them and coexist with them, as I have done. I cannot wait to teach you the same lesson. Perhaps you will not be like the rest. But if you are… Ripper and I will enjoy your death.

                You are about to pass the alley I am waiting so patiently in. I wonder if you will turn my way, go down my alley. If you do not, I will need another reason to approach you. But I am clever and creative and friends with demons. I am not worried, but you should be.

                You are shivering. You are so close now that I can see your goosebumps, and the way every tiny hair on your arm stands straight up. You did not think to bring a sweater on your night out? That was not very smart, honey.

                You stride along in your high heels, walking as fast as you can, but still far slower than the demons and the monsters. You are clutching a small red purse close to your breast. Do you think that will stop bad men from stealing it? Far from it, kitten. It will only encourage them.

                You are passing by my alley. You are not turning into it. Don’t you want to go down it? It is a shortcut to your cozy, demon-free “home”. Oh, why did you have to pass by me? Now I will have to think of somethi –

                Oh, excellent! A tube of something – lipgloss, maybe – just fell out of your ludicrous purse, and you do not seem to have noticed it fall. That cluelessness will get you in trouble one of these days, sweetheart.

                Possibly today. I slip out of the shadows and into the not-much-brighter Chicago sidewalk. I brush the dust off my suit that has gathered as I waited for something like you. A suit might not be the most comfortable outfit to wear, but I have found that it cleans easily and adds to my demeanor.

                I lean down to pick up the fallen object. I was right – it is a tube of lipgloss. It is heavy and clunky and ridiculous.

                “Excuse me?” I call out to you in my most innocent voice. “You dropped this.” I hold out the lipgloss. I know you will be fooled, because I have fooled many, most of them smarter than you.

                I paste on my most charming smile as you turn around. At first you look confused and vaguely frightened – perhaps you are wondering from whence I came. You worst nightmare, puppy dog, that is where I came from.

                Yet after a second your beautiful, vapid face relaxes into a grateful smile. My own smile widens. I have found that I have never lacked charm and confidence, even before I embraced the demons. People smile when I smile, just like you did.

                “Thank you, sir,” you say, taking the lipgloss from my cold hand. Your voice is deeper than I had expected it to be. I like it.

                “Please, call me Jack,” I respond. Jack, like Jack the Ripper. An inside joke that you are not privy to.

                “Thank you, Jack,” you say with a smile. Your warm brown eyes sparkle. Your cold skinny frame shivers.

                “Are you cold?” I ask, the paragon of chivalry. “Here, take my jacket.”

                I take off my suit jacket and drape it over your bare shoulders, ignoring your protests. I will be fine. I do not get cold anymore, not since I embraced the monsters and demons inside of me. Besides, I will get the jacket back soon enough, if everything goes as planned.

                “So, which way are you headed?” I inquire conversationally. You glance at me distrustfully (how dare you, I want only the best for you, my dear). I smile my charming smile.

                You reply, “That way,” with a careless swing of your arm.

                I pretend to look in the direction where you are pointing. Then I nod. “I am going that way too.”

                “Oh,” you say, “what a coincidence.” You giggle. I chuckle. You walk a bit faster. I easily keep pace with you.

                Silly little lamb. You can’t outrun the monsters and you can’t outrun me.

                “I’m not trying to outrun you,” you say in a puzzled tone of voice. I must have said that out loud – a clear sign that I am losing my control. Ripper, my beloved knife, begins to grow hot where he is tucked into my shirt sleeve. Soon, Ripper, my boy. Soon.

                “No,” I say seriously. I stop moving, and you obediently stop too. I turn to look at you straight in the eyes. You seem frightened. I can smell your fear, and I can hear your heart beating fast. “You may not be trying to outrun me, but you are trying to outrun the demons.”

                Common sense, curiosity, and fear war in your eyes. You twist you fingers in my jacket, tangling them in the cloth as you wrestle with your emotions. Curiosity wins, as I knew it would. That is why I chose you, sweetie, and not someone else.

                “What demons?” you ask.

                “Everything you do not want to face,” I answer simply. Because it really is that simple. That is the first thing I found out – it really is that simple.

                You shake your small head. Your over-conditioned hair flops pathetically from side to side, whipping your face. You are just like the rest. I am disappointed, but not too badly, because this means that Ripper and I get our kill.

                “I don’t get what you’re going on about,” you say. “Who are you, anyway, Jack? Listen, I’m warm enough. You can take back your jacket, I’m close to home, I think I –”

                “It is okay,” I interrupt you. “Not many understand. And those who do live alone.”

                You are starting to look very afraid now. It is thrilling. I like it when I decide what I am going to do and act on it. Ripper likes it, too – he is about to burn a hole in my sleeve. I shake him down my arm until he rests firmly in my palm. Your eyes widen as they catch his mischievous glint. The glint of a knife, ready to kill.

                “No,” you whisper as I advance slowly towards you. You open your pretty little mouth to scream or cry or pray – and Ripper lashes out. In just a few seconds, we slit your throat.

                You fall to your naked knobbly knees, gasping for air you can no longer inhale. The red coming from your throat blends impossibly well with you ridiculous, slutty red dress. It is a masterpiece.

                “I have accepted my demons,” I tell you coldly as you gape like a fish in front of me. “But you would never have accepted yours. People like you sicken me, darling.”

                You look up at me with your baby eyes, as blank and uncomprehending as you have always been and now always will be. Then you close your eyes and breathe your last breath.

                Good riddance, is what I say. I pocket Ripper and get ready to clear the evidence before the next kitten comes along, running away from demons that no one can escape.

THE END! J