Just a note, if you read my profile, I do not have a twisted mind, I just love twisted stories
Just a note, if you read my profile, I do not have a twisted mind, I just love twisted stories. Enjoy!
A light breeze stirred the night air, momentarily squelching the abnormal heat. It was October, but at night the temperatures still skimmed eighty. Kelsey gave a tremendous sigh, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Of all the nights for the car to blow!" The engine was now smoking, and in a panic, she exited the car fumbling in her purse for her cell phone.
She was supposedly taking a "shortcut" back to her house, but a dark deserted road in the outskirts of Tennessee was not exactly what Kelsey expected. "Ah here we go!" She muttered, finally finding her phone in her abyss of a purse. She loved this purse to death, but all her New York friends told her how hideous it was, so this was one more thing she was leaving behind to start her career. Thank God she had another day to change her wardrobe before her interview. On an impulse she flipped her hair then dialed her home number. But just as she dialed, a truck pulled up alongside her car.
"Miss?" In an instant a man had stepped out of the truck and was by her side. "You need a hand?" He asked in a thick southern drawl. The accent all but convinced her on the spot. But she hesitated. If she just pressed talk on her phone, her Dad could come by and pick her up. But he already believed she would fail. He would think she was weak. Not even able to fix her own car. She would not rely on his help, now or ever again. Besides here was a nice, handsome even, stranger offering assistance.
"Um, y-yeah I do." Kelsey stammered, blushing as she realized how love struck she sounded. Then again this guy was really hot. To start with, he towered over her clearly over six feet with coal black eyes. He looked oddly familiar. The way you would see an actor in two different movies yet recognize the voice. "Do I know you?" She suddenly asked, blushing a deep scarlet. This was not the way a future fashion magazine employee should conduct herself, but one look into his eyes and she didn't care.
He turned his head around to give a quick look into the night before answering. "I don' think so Miss. But about your car?" She nodded, suddenly focused. "I happen to be a mechanic see, and all my equipment is in my truck. Mind if I take a look under the hood?" Black smoke was now rising out of the car, and despite it all, a small smirk played on his lips. "Free of charge." He began carefully unloading tools from his truck. "By the way, I'm Greg." A whisper. Words that all but disappeared into the breeze that suddenly stirred the air.
"Kelsey." She breathed, closing her phone. It suddenly amazed her how much a name could change how you feel about a person. He was Greg. No longer just some handsome stranger. And she was Kelsey, no longer to cool for guys, but completely and permanently in love.
"So Kelsey," Without meaning to he spoke her name tenderly and a scowl crossed his lips. But he hid his face under the hood and spoke ever so calmly. "What's your story?"
"Huh?" She had been to busy obsessing over his shaggy black hair to even think about his question. She was pathetic.
"Your story, um," he searched for a better explanation thinking she had misunderstood the question. "You know, why a pretty girl like you is driving along a dark road late at night in Tennessee?" He lifted his head and stared into her brown eyes for a moment.
A moment to long. She was a pretty one, and almost a perfect match. If this weren't so important to him, he would have given her a chance. But there was no turning back now.
"Oh yeah, that." she pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, focusing on the fact that he thought she was pretty. There was a connection here she knew it. "Well first off I live in Tennessee, and,"
"No kidding! You don't look southern at all." He interrupted flashing her a brilliant smile. But he knew she lived here, he knew exactly where she lived. In fact, he knew her whole story, from her move here twelve years ago, all the way up till now. But he had to be patient. His time would come. "Come to think of it, you could have just stepped off the New York Runway." He was playing off her pride now, knowing her job offer and her ambitions. It was pretty sad she would never get to accomplish any of them.
She blushed at the praise, and he hated himself for loving it. "Well, tomorrow, I actually have a job interview with this NYC fashion magazine as an editor! If I get the position, I'll never ever have to come back to Tennessee ever again." He nodded encouragingly rearranging and twisting random parts in the car. "But, my air conditioning died this morning, so I went up to the mechanic." She paused, "whose shop is two hours away. I guess they think all rednecks are experts at cars." She laughed, a lighthearted sound and he smiled. But he knew this already. He was the one who killed her AC in the first place.
"Dang. Tough luck." He gave an apologetic smile. More genuine than he intended.
"Yeah I know! So, I got detoured all over the place only to discover that the freakin' mechanic was closed!" Kelsey took a calming breath before continuing. "I was just on my way back when my engine died. So how's the car coming? I mean not that I want you to leave-I'm, I'm having a great time- just I don't want to take up anymore of your time with my-"
"Great! The car's coming along great. I just found the problem." Greg interrupted; laughing slightly at her embarrassment. He knew he couldn't keep her talking forever, so he put down the two wires he been randomly fiddling with. He had planned this all so well.
He checked his watch, perfect. Maybe two, three minutes to go now.
"Hold on a sec." He turned and went to his truck to pull out a small black box. "Let me hook this up to your car and you won't need a tune-up for years! Trust me." He whispered gently into her ear. She nodded, struck mute by the sudden intimacy of his voice. "All set," he called a minute later, closing the hood. "You drive safe now Kelsey." What a liar he was!
"Wait Greg? Are you sure you don't want any money? I c-could pay you." She didn't want him to leave.
"Nah, Miss Kelsey, keep your money." He subtly checked his watch, and knew that the last two months were building up to this moment. The moment when she drove away. But up until that very last second, he had to remain the perfect southern gentleman, no matter how much his gut was screaming at him to get the hell out of there. Yet her offer struck him and gave him pause. Momentarily squashing that instinct to run. She was different. But he had known that all along. He had watched her for months trying to balance out her family life, her upcoming career, and whom she was, all the while trying not to crack from the pressure. She hid behind a superficial façade, but underneath, she was not stuck up or snotty, but a caring person. Someone he had taken the time to see, even if by accident.
No! He was not in love now. He could never love someone who was like her. But Kelsey isn't like her, Greg's conscious nagged. She just looks the same.
"No thank you. I must be on my way." Despite himself he smiled. At her. Kelsey, the woman whose last moments he should be savoring, was turning him from his quest. Making him smile when there was nothing to be happy about. Just like her.
"At least let me give you my number." He was heading back to his truck now, but could still hear the pleading in her voice. He tensed up, and Kelsey took this as rejection. "Of course, it would only be if you wanted some money for your-your work." And before she lost her nerve, she scribbled all seven digits onto his palm. She gave him no time to object, and he didn't.
"Thanks Miss Kelsey. Have a safe trip home." Oh My God how could he keep lying to her! But he had already turned his back and by the time he was in his truck she was gone.
Everything was set now. Just a push of one small button, and she would be out of his life forever. Gone Dead.
Blown up by his bomb.
He had to do it quickly. If he was to leave his mark on the body, he would need a quick route to the remains, and then a quicker escape. This had taken months to plan. He wouldn't back down. So before he could change his mind, he slammed his fist onto the button, making no mistake that this what was meant to happen. His forehead drenched in sweat against the cold steering wheel.
The bomb had been designed to work slowly so there would be minutes of silent agony. It wasn't his fault though. He didn't ask Kelsey to be an exact replica of his sister Alana. The same chocolate eyes, the same dimples and beautiful smile. She had been his savior. The one to tell him that he defined himself, and nobody could take that away. That she would always be there for him.
She betrayed him at the first sign of trouble. He was having a bit of a dilemma with the local police. Nothing major, just a few robberies to pay for college. Nobody knew until he had decided to trust Alana. But she squealed to the whole family. And in a great act of kindness they told no one. So to spare him a jail cell, they sent Greg to a mental hospital and told the whole town he had left early for an out of state university. Like he could afford to go there.
He couldn't embarrass the family if he was locked up, and he had always been on the weird side, so it was not that difficult to forget that he hadn't gone crazy in the first place.
But he wasn't insane. An insane man could never have planned out the murder of his sister and now six other look-alikes and not be in prison. No, he was perfectly sane. And more than ever when he was with Kelsey. He was reminded of the good side of Alana. The side that he had loved. The way his heart told him to love Kelsey.
The way his brain shut down at the thought of love.
For Kelsey, this murder had to be special. With every other victim the death had been quick, silent, and appeared accidental. The only similarity was the "G" carved into each girl's arm with his knife. Kelsey's death he had planned out for months longer than he intended. Stalking her, knowing her better than anyone else could possibly know her.
And then his world exploded.
Off in the distance he could see the car go up in flames, the only light along the dark road. He closed his eyes and turned away, to sick with fear to sort out his own emotions.
His skin turned pale and clammy, as he involuntarily turned on the engine. Speeding toward the large mushroom cloud that was now a bombsite. Of course he was too early for the flames to die down, or the death screams to end. That had been his target time. Late enough to avoid the flames himself, early enough for the body to still be warm.
He exited the truck; eyes trained on the flames that burned and scourged his soul, with every second he stared. But he moved closer feeling the intense heat just to know that he could still feel at all. It was a numb feeling, even as the embers blew toward him in the breeze and raked his face.
Then from within the burning car, a face appeared, stricken with fear, completely smothered in flames. Kelsey's face. Screaming for him to help her out of this burning inferno that was eating her alive.
He turned away, vomit rising in his throat. He never expected her to last this long. No, he never expected he would care. But he forced his eyes open, staring blankly ahead. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing.
Finally feeling nothing.
The screams ended just as abruptly as they started, and when he could no longer see her face staring out at him, he watched the car smolder. Something he had imagined doing every single day since he had targeted her. He never believed it would be this painful.
The car was still burning as Greg dragged Kelsey's lifeless from the car remains. His burned hands meant nothing as he held her face tenderly, barely recognizable beneath the burned skin. Then, with tears dropping onto her face and blurring his vision, he took out his knife. Slowly, in a caress of affection, he carved a heart into her scorched flesh. Within the heart, he kissed the blood before carving a small "K&G" within the mark.
With one more quick glance at her corpse, Greg carved their mark right into his heart until blood poured freely. Staining his hands, his clothes, his soul. Until his pulse quickened, then abruptly stopped. They were forever sealed in flesh and blood.