thirteen

I'm annoyed. Extremely annoyed. Paranoid too, but that's nothing new. I've locked myself in my apartment for the past three days, the cops have come to my door a total of two times in that time period. Once to ask me if I saw anyone suspicious in the area before and after the fire, and a second time to see whether or not I knew the owner and where they may have disappeared. Lucky for me they didn't deem it necessary to do a chemical search for human remains, fires...especially 'accidental' fires aren't meant to cause that much blood.

Not to mention some of that blood belongs to Ximena, if they knew that we'd be in big trouble. Speaking of Ximena, I've been wanting to kill her more and more recently. Ever since I declared the 'don't get caught by the police by being a fucking idiot,' rule, she thought it would be a good idea to stay where I can 'keep an eye on her,' meaning she's in my living room watching T.V reruns. Sounds of shouting, crying and laughing constantly blare through my once silent walls and it's pissing me off.

I want her gone. In my three years of owning this apartment the only reason I've ever turned on that T.V, was to make sure the police hadn't found one of my dismembered corpses. It was about thirty years old and most of its channels were static, they were my favourite.

Sighing, I grabbed my now empty cup and made my way towards my now least favourite part of the apartment. "Turn it off," The girl who was draped across my couch resembled a living corpse,   her hair hing in loose clumps, her clothes were bloody, her skin was pale, and yet every now and again her body would slightly rise before falling in shallow breaths. Said corpse lifted her head at my presence, "Cas, watch with me," A lazy grin adorned her face as she pet the small space she had made on the couch.

"Are you deaf?" Her expression didn't change. "I said. Turn it off," Blowing a clump of white hair out of her face she rolled over onto her stomach. "Why should I?" Blood...knives...torture...strangling, happy thoughts. She was useful to me, this whole thing would have been a waste of time if I killed her now.

"For a start, you can't even see whats happening," She reached out a hand to the pile off empty bottles and trash that had accumulated around her, happy thoughts. "Doesn't matter," Grabbing a cookie, she turned to point it at me, "I can hear it can't I?" She proceeded to shove it in her mouth. "Just relax..." No amount of horrific imagery could stop me, I was so angry I could barely control my limbs and not being in control made me even angrier.  In one moment my arm was up in the air, in the next my cup was in white ceramic pieces all over her head and the floor. Blood began to matt her hair as the T.V blared Scooby Doo.

"Shut up, shut the fuck up!" She looked even more corpse-like now, the red of her blood calmed me to the point that my hands had slightly calmed their shaking enough to grab the remote and turn the T.V off. Heavy breaths heaved out of my mouth, my chest clenching before loosening.

The room felt small and claustrophobic, buried in trash, food and bones. My heart was loud, too loud, the irrational thought of the police hearing it crossed my mind and I thought about cutting it out. I hate it when I got like this, it's a form of panic attack I've gotten since i was a child. When all of my pent up paranoia and anxiety finally cause me to lose it, I become extremely irrational and dangerous to myself and others. The latter would be fine as long as I didn't run the risk of being caught.

Sighing for the second time, I knelt down on the carpet. One..two...three, the pieces of broken ceramic looked so innocent in my hand, however, the red marks told a different story. Four...five...six, that was nearly all of the pieces. Picking up the last one I managed to glance myself in the dark recesses of the T.V screen. Overgrown dark hair, pale skin and bloodshot eyes. If I was to go look for a new victim I would have to do something about my appearance, no one would trust this man, not my victims and certainly not the police.

"Red and white is such a nice mixture," Before I could catch myself, I was running my fingers through Ximena's blood crusted hair. "Sorry," a pit in my stomach slightly became lighter when I said that word, I don't know why and I don't know this feeling. I feel like an idiot.

A stream of blood broke free of her hairline and began to cascade down her forehead. Lightly touching my fingers to her warm skin I swiped up to wipe it but was surprised to find a tight grip around my wrist. "Fuck you," What?

A sharp pain exploded in in my arm causing a shuttered breath to seeth out of me. Blood bubbled and pooled around a sharp triangle of white ceramic. "Blood and white really does make a good mixture," Raising my eyes, they met a pair of grey ones that had been ignited to a silver by rage. "What the fuck are you doing?" I spat still trying to comprehend what she had done. She stabbed me...with my own fucking cup, who the hell does she think she is?

Those sharp silver eyes watched as I pulled the protruding object from my skin seeming to brighten further at the larger amount of blood that spewed out from the wound. Forgetting about the pain, my hand launched for her face, my thumb and index finger wrapping around her cheeks, pressing them together and smearing blood all over her.

"You're going to regret that," My voice managed to remain cold and calm through the growing urge to rip her apart. "How so?" There was no trace of fear or remorse on her face and that pissed me off. "Tell me something 'Xim,' Do you think you're special? That I'll let you do whatever the fuck you want?" She said nothing.

"Get this through your head, You.Are.Expendable. You're here to help me kill others, if I grow bored of you or you fail to perform your job," I paused lowering my face to hers, "You're dead,"

She smiled, "Then I can't let you get bored, can I?' Her lips were on mine, her rage was still there it was clear but so was mine. The kiss was full of rage and hatred, our hands were everywhere, we were never still. Her warmth seeped into my skin through hers and the dull coldness that usually filled me became hot. That strange familiarity that I felt when touching her returned and I once again felt my control waning. The mettalic taste of blood stung my tongue and i was brought back to reality. Separating from her, I returned to my spot on the carpet wondering how I would remove the new blood stain. "Cas,"

"Casimir," She rolled her eyes, I didn't have the energy to tell her off.

"There's a bar a few blocks away, where prostitutes and crack addicts are known to gather,"           I was kissing her again.

Sorry, this is late.