29

[ARTEMY]
As I was about to switch off the lights, a faint knocking sound echoed from the other side of the door. Perplexed, I straightened up and stared at the door, my forehead furrowing in confusion. There was another tap, breaking the late night silence.
Late as it was, I couldn’t help but wonder who could be at the door. I waited, expecting another knock, but instead, I heard a rustling noise against the door. Hastily, I made my way towards it, gripped the doorknob, and swung the door open wide.
Before I could even register what was happening or catch a glimpse of the person, someone stumbled forward and fell into my arms. My eyes widened in surprise-it was Rebecca. She trembled violently, her entire body shaking uncontrollably, barely managing to stay on her feet. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her close.
Her fingers clung to my shirt with a desperate grip, her nails digging into my skin. Tears streamed down her face as she cried, her body convulsing with sobs. She buried her face in my chest, seeking comfort.
Confusion flooded my mind as I held her limp body, unanswered questions swirling in my head. She gasped and choked on her tears, struggling to speak.
“Make… it… stop. Please. I can’t take it,” she pleaded, her voice muffled against my chest.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat.
“Make it stop.”
“Rebecca?” I attempted to pull away gently, wanting to see her face, but she cried even harder, clutching my shirt tighter, refusing to let go.
“Please. Please. Make it stop. I can’t… I can’t breathe. I can’t… take it… anymore.”
“Rebecca, what are you talking about?” Her words made no sense, and I was at a loss for how to respond. I never anticipated her coming to me in such a distressed state. What could be tormenting her like this?
Relinquishing her grip on my shirt, she went completely limp in my arms. Her legs gave way, and if I hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed onto the floor.
“Shit.” I lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest, and carried her to my bed. Gently placing her on the mattress, I knelt before her, cupping her chin in my hand, urging her to look at me. Rebecca stubbornly refused to open her eyes, whimpering and curling into herself. She struggled for breath, her body drenched in sweat. Her hair clung to her forehead, and tears stained her cheeks.
Trembling, she recoiled when my fingers tightened on her chin, emitting a sharp cry of fear. Shocked, I immediately released her, realizing how frightened she must have been.
“Fuck. I’m not going to hurt you,” I assured her desperately.
She whimpered in response.
“Rebecca, talk to me. What’s going on?” I pleaded, trying to coax an explanation from her. She brought her hands up to her head, tangling her fingers in her hair, then shook her head repeatedly, tears streaming down her face once again.
“It hurts. It hurts so much. Please,” she repeated over and over, her words filled with anguish.
Is she having a nightmare?
I called out her name, and in an instant, her eyes snapped open, filled with panic and terror. She jolted forward, overcome by an overwhelming sense of distress.
The anguish in her eyes was unbearable. It pierced my heart as I witnessed her pain. Rebecca glanced down at her arms, her face contorted with fear. “No. No. No,” she muttered, her voice trembling under her breath.
She began to sway back and forth, her fingers anxiously clawing at her arms, leaving deep, crimson scratches on her skin. If she persisted, blood would surely be drawn.
“Look. Look,” she cried, thrusting her arms towards me. “Blood. I’m covered in blood…”
What on earth was happening?
“Rebecca, you’re not covered in blood,” I reassured her gently, taking hold of her arm and tenderly rubbing my thumb over her skin.
“No!” she wailed, wrenching her arms away from me. “Look! Blood. Make it stop,” Rebecca pleaded in a hushed tone, tears welling up in her eyes. The desperation in her gaze shattered my heart. I felt an intense ache in my chest, witnessing her torment. “You can… make… it… stop. Please,” she gasped, her shallow breaths punctuated by her expectant stare. She begged me with her eyes.
But her words made no sense, and the pain in my chest was unfathomable.
When I didn’t respond, I watched as her eyes turned vacant. I had seen that gaze before. Each time I took a life, I stared into those lifeless eyes, and now hers mirrored that emptiness.
Although Rebecca was breathing, still alive, her eyes betrayed a soul that had withered away.
Her shoulders slumped, and she slowly slid off the bed, her knees hitting the floor in front of me. She shut her eyes and curled her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them.
In that moment, she resembled a lost child. Broken beyond repair, devoid of any glimmer of hope.
“Rebecca,” I choked out, swallowing the lump in my throat.
She continued to rock back and forth, muttering something incomprehensible under her breath.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I leaned closer, straining to catch her words. And what I heard took my breath away.
“Make it stop. Make it go away. No more blood. Make it go away.”
“Rebecca, damn it!” I exclaimed, my frustration causing me to swear aloud. I pulled away, running my fingers through my hair in exasperation.
She cowered in fear, drawing her legs even closer to her body, as if shielding herself from me. Every movement I made elicited a flinch, her eyes widening in anticipation of my next action.
She was in the midst of a mental breakdown, and I could see the familiar signs of distress that I had witnessed in men who had experienced their first kill. With caution, I extended my hands, palms open, towards her. “I won’t harm you,” I reassured, taking slow, measured steps to avoid alarming her.
She observed my every movement but remained silent, her eyes devoid of life and filled with despair. As our knees touched, her gaze shifted downward, and I noticed her swallowing hard.
“Rebecca,” I whispered, attempting to draw her attention back to my face. I repeated her name once more.
She hesitantly shifted her gaze and stared at me with apprehension.
“Is there still blood on you?” I inquired, gesturing towards her arms. She looked down, and I witnessed a solitary tear escaping from the corner of her left eye. She continued to stare at her arms and nodded slowly.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Rebecca, look at me,” I urged. She obeyed, meeting my eyes. “We’re going to wash away the blood, okay? We’ll clean you up, and there won’t be any more blood, alright?”
Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she glanced back down at her arms. She ran her hands along her forearms, lost in her thoughts.
“Rebecca,” I called out once again. Though she didn’t raise her gaze, she ceased rubbing her arms, indicating she had heard me. “I’m going to touch you. Is that alright?” I asked, lowering my head to peer into her green eyes.
She remained silent, no words spoken. Placing my hand on my knee, I waited for a few seconds. When she didn’t flinch or withdraw, I drew closer and enveloped her in my arms, one behind her back and the other supporting her legs. Swiftly, I lifted her against my chest, and I heard her gasp in surprise.
“Shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whispered into her hair as I carried her towards the bathroom. Rebecca slowly extended her hand, placing it on my chest, and instinctively, my grip tightened around her.