Run to You

Kiri watched Tom open her little present to him. Her heart broke when she saw that he didn’t like it. He looked disgusted and scared. Tom slowly walked back inside. Kiri hid in the bushes at the edge of his lawn. She waited a few minutes before leaving. She drove back to her apartment.

Her apartment was different now. All of the pictures of Tom were gone, leaving a void in the room, but Kiri didn’t notice it. She looked on her mantle at the urn that contained her uncle’s ashes. She walked over and put her hand on it.

“I should have let you kill him, Uncle Kenneth.” She said. “I was a fool to believe that he would ever love me.” She felt a tear streak down her face. An eerie draft blew past her, causing her to shiver.

A voice from nowhere started to speak. “Make him pay.” It said.

Kiri jumped at the voice. “H-huh?” she stammered.

“I said, ‘Make him pay’,” The voice said. Kiri heard something familiar in the voice, making her more trusting of it.

“What do I need to do?” Kiri asked. The voice laughed in a familiar way, it was almost as if she knew this person.

“I have a plan…” The voice said.

Tom was preparing himself for bed. He couldn’t get the box out of his head; he kept wondering who had sent it. He knew that it couldn’t have been Kiri, because the last Tom heard, she was in the asylum. After that night, she had suffered a mental breakdown, and tried to kill herself. She became a danger to society and the courts sentenced her to three years at the Berlin Hospital for the Mentally Unstable.

Thinking about Kiri caused Tom to remember Kenneth Wayne Pilot. The very name sent chills up Tom’s spine. After that night, Tom was forced in to therapy for trauma and recovery, because he began having nightmares. In them, Tom was running down an alley, in broad day light, with Kenneth chasing after him wielding a gun. In the dreams, Tom would trip and reach for someone’s hand, but no one would help him. Kenneth would catch up to Tom and shoot him in the head, and Tom always woke up at that point, covered in sweat, but he always thought it was blood.

Lyra’s experience after that night was no walk in the park either. She too had awful night-terrors. Hers were about Kenneth killing Tom in front of her, and when she’d jump in the way, the bullet would go right through her and hit Tom in the chest. Lyra was never harmed; it was like she was invisible in her own dream. Around the end of the dream, she would throw her self on top of Tom and wake up covered in what she thought was his blood, but in reality, it was just the sweat from tossing and turning. She would also scream loudly in her sleep, and nothing could wake her up. It was like Kenneth had grasped them in their dreams, like Freddy Krueger. Eventually, over time, she slowly drifted out of it, and so did Tom. But only on certain occasions, would it happen again.

Tom was asleep in bed, having a peaceful dream about the wedding, when the phone rang, waking him up. Tom stumbled blindly out of bed, in a mad dash to answer to the phone, so that it wouldn’t wake Lyra up. Tom grabbed off the receiver and put it to his ear.

“Hello?” Tom said sleepily.

Someone was breathing heavily into the phone on the other end. “Hello, Mister Kaulitz.” A voice said. The voice must have been digitally altered with a voice changer, because it was unlike any voice Tom had ever heard.

“Who is this?” Tom asked.

“You’re worst nightmare. Watch your back, Tom. I’m coming for you.” It said, and the line went dead. Tom dropped the phone in fright, the busy signal on the other end of the phone sent seizures up Tom’s spine. Tom hurriedly picked the phone back up and pressed redial.

“We’re sorry, but your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up the phone and try again.”

Tom froze again. Fear was pulsing through him like a rapid disease. What could he do?