Wicked Rose

I went home after work feeling like I was being fallowed. I only felt safe when I was back inside my apartment safe and sound. I tossed my keys on the table by the door and kicked my shoes off. It was cold so I turned the heat up and went into the kitchen area to make some hot tea.

While the water boiled, I turned the tv on and watched as I made myself dinner. Heated up Chinese leftovers with chopsticks. I settled myself on old red velvet sofa that I got from a yard sale and placed my dinner and tea on the coffee table that had seen too many spills of coffee. I changed the channel to the evening news, I usually didn't watch the news, it depressed me and was most often lies and things you don't need to know. But the heading caught my attention.

Reporter: "That's right, a serial killer in Helsinki. Five victims in the past week have just been linked by police as the same killer. Each victim has been a attractive young woman and the cause of death has been loss of blood. Police and Investigators believe that the killer may hiding somewhere in downtown and is kidnapping and draining women of their blood. The advice to everyone living alone or walking the streets after dark should stay in lighted areas and of course, to report anyone harassing them. Dose Helsinki have real vampires? Or this is just another crazed murder looking for attention? We will keep you updated on the story."
I had a horrible chilling feeling like earlier when the man disappeared. Did this mean that my dream was true? Than it hit me, that man, he…he looked familiar because he was Alexi! It was him. I knew that I was right. Oh god, what if he was the killer? What if he came back to finish his work? I wasn't going to allow myself to live in fear. I got up and went to my bedroom, I put on my necklace with a cross and grabbed my metal bat I kept under my bed incase of a break in. I put on my coat and shoes before locking my door behind me.

I needed to find Ville, even though I had no idea where to look. I hoped that if I went back to that motel maybe I could find someone one who knew him or where to find him. He seemed to know who or what Alexi was and he wasn't exactly human himself. Maybe I could get him to help me again.

What the fuck was I thinking? Was I actually believing that vampires were real? I had been through a lot in my life, I had been abused and mistreated, and the attack was only adding more stress to my already damaged mind. Maybe that was why I was actually believing this insanity. At lest I still knew it was insane.

It was a cloudily night, cold too. I buried my hands in my pockets and hurried down the street. My reasoning was that maybe if I just saw the motel that it happened in maybe I'd remember something I didn't before. Maybe I'd get a glance of something disproving this crazy memory. Maybe I needed a boyfriend to take up some of my free time. Nah, men are idiots.

I soon found myself staring at the motel, it stared back in an almost mocking fashion and my feet took me to the office. The same old skinny woman was there and for some reason I asked for a room, but not just any room, room 8, where I had stayed before. I took the key from her shaking winkled claw and my eyes met hers, I saw long hard years on a bitter face. Pity.

I put the key in the lock and pushed open the door, dust flew and the door creaked. Inside it looked the same, old and musky. I sat on the bed and the images of that night replayed in my head. "You stupid little cunt!" He came at me again, this time grabbing me wrists and pinning me to he bed under his weight. He used one hand to hold my hands down and the other to run over my body. I tired to scream but he covered my mouth with his. I bit his tongue and he slapped my cheek before shaking me. "Stay the fuck still and I might not kill you, you whore!" He ripped my shirt, and started to undo his belt buckle. I shuttered and cleared my throat, I seemed tough because I was desensitized to being abused, but deep down the memories and scars of all the wrongs done to me still hurt.

"Mom? Mom, you've pasted out in the bathroom again." I knocked on the door and waited for her slurred answer. Instead my young ears heard the unmistakable sound of one vomiting. Dad had been gone for three days but he had been missing for longer without contacting us so it wasn't troubling. In fact I liked it when he was gone because than I wouldn't have to fight off his rage attacks and wandering hands, sometimes I have to call the police but I only did that when I feared for my life. He never stayed put away long because Mom wouldn't back me up. She was just as fucked up as he was and she would get in trouble for abandoning me for so long. She didn't beat me and steal my savings like Dad did, so she was the good parent in her mind. I heard her throw up again than start to cry.

As much as I hated my mother for being so selfish and staying with my Dad, I couldn't not pity and love her. Because as crazy as it sounds, I knew on some level she loved me or else she would have thrown me out or sold my ass for booze money like Dad always threatened he'd do. So when she finally opened the door, reliving her sad, worn face I opened my arms and hugged her. She sobbed and she smelt disgusting but she clung to me like her life depended on it. Slowly she stopped and looked at me with the same blue eyes as mine own.

"I'm sorry, Alice…I'm sorry…" she always did this when she sobered up. She'd almost realize how horrible of a mother she was and that I deserved better. She dealt with the extreme guilt by getting drunk again and forgetting why she was so depressed.

That was one of my more happy childhood memories. It was quiet out on the street, I laid back and wondered why I was here and why I suddenly felt like I was being haunted by my past when before I hardly thought of it. I was a different person now, I had changed a lot since the scared, fourteen year old girl who cut herself to deal with her emotional agony. Why I thought hurting myself would make everything better I wasn't sure. Maybe I was obsessed with death but too scared to kill myself, inflicting pain was the next best thing.

My thoughts were shattered when there came a loud knock on the door.