Author: dreamlily PM
Lately I've been having visions of killing people in broad day light. Thanks for the new tool of trade Deb, now that I'm seeing red, you might end up on the sharp point of a blade. R&R, no flames please!Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense - Dexter M. & Debra M. - Words: 946 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 2 - Published: 10-14-12 - id: 8610960
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I haven't quite seen right lately. More than often I'm swarmed with fantasies of stabbing people in broad day light. Even my co-workers are at risk, sorry Masuka.
Deb would call them sick, savage thoughts. I see it more as stress relief.
She doesn't understand what its like being restrained, after all she isn't the one with her freedom taken away.
I can't go through a single meeting without feeling her dark eyes trailing my every movement. Honestly, does she really think I have that little self-control?
Even I'm starting to get paranoid. I nearly attacked someone on the job the other day, it sprung another argument between me and Deb.
So much for understanding, next she'll be putting me in a support group for the mentally insane.
I can't help but wonder if she takes me seriously or not. Half the time she speaks to me in a condescending tone as if I'm a child.
And she wonders why I get so frustrated.
Dinner conversations have grown more strained. Other than half-hearted grunts, we usually clean our plates and head off to bed.
If she's angry she can just say so, wasn't honesty one of our rules? It may be a wonder how Deb hasn't killed anyone yet.
Thats a lot more than I can say though, lately I haven't been following the rules too well either.
I've started research into whom I plan to make my next victim, and I've been dealing with a rather new sensation, one I haven't explained to Deb yet.
Accompanying my visions has been a sudden burst of color. Most would refer to it as," seeing red", but I'm pretty sure they haven't seen it literally.
My word around me becomes clouded and hazy, and before I know it, I've done something I regret.
Normally I adjust to these new feelings, accepting them into my tools of trade but this one doesn't quite fit right.
My tools are suppose to help me maintain control, and this is exactly the opposite.
This is Deb's method not mine. She's the one who gets angry over everything.
I've noticed it only happens when she's present, or calling me for the hundredth time over the phone.
Somehow I manage to grin and bare it, like I've always done. But my instincts are not something I can control.
Eventually "seeing red" will be unleashed, in what form I haven't the slightest clue. But I can guarantee it will be a lot worse than a petty argument or spending erratic hours in a gym stalking prey.
It's night time now and as I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my skin starts to crawl.
At first, it begins with a soft itch on the back of my neck and then grows into a searing pain vibrating up my spine.
Naturally my body doesn't like that, so I jolt up, tearing the covers from my body. I'm not sure what I have in mind, but I approach the door anyway, and head out into the hallway.
All is silent, I assume Deb is asleep with how late it feels. For a moment I pace back and forth, running my fingers through my dirty blond hair,
What is it? What do I crave? An unbelievable weight bombards my shoulders and for a moment I have to use the side of a table to keep myself from falling over.
This isn't right. I shouldn't be acting this way. This is all Deb's fault. Why couldn't she let go? Why couldn't she stop suffocating me whenever I pleaded for her to give me space?
An old saying states, you should never provoke a cornered rat. And as one who is caged, rage is overwhelming my senses.
Somehow I stumble my way into the kitchen, despite having little control over my limbs, and I claw at the fridges handle.
I pull out a carton of milk and starting chugging it on he spot. I need to calm down, to sooth the burning sensation that hazes over my vision.
That's when I feel an arm playfully hit me on the shoulder.
"Really? What the fuck, thats gross Dex!" Deb snaps, rolling her eyes. She gives me that look, the one of sheer disgust and loath over the brother I turned out to be.
Thats when I lose it. Before she can utter a sound of a protest, I grab a knife from the counter and slice a long cut against her throat, causing a river of dark blood to splash amongst the counter and my face.
Deb falls into a crumbled heap, and soon I collapse to my knees as well. I shut my eyes for a moment, allowing the red to slowly clear away.
Everything will be alright. Seeing red is only temporary after all. As soon as my eyelids lift, I'll be back in my bed, staring at my ceiling, as I wait for morning to come.
I open my eyes, and I'm back in my bedroom as I predicted. Harsh sunlight invades through the blinds, meaning only one thing.
Time for work. Yawning I sweep my hands through my hair, only to feel a sticky substance across my face.
As I look down, I realize my hands are covered in blood and I don't know what to think.
I can't be sure of what I've done...
Hi! I've decided to update every week after a new episode, whatever crazy idea that pops into my head after watching XD After I post 5 I'll delete the one with the least amount of reviews, because I only want to keep writing if you like them. Anyways, hope you enjoyed!~lily