Hold Your Tongue

With the late summer’s sun burning through the slight gap in the curtains, waking up to the sound of her alarm eased Charlie into the early morning. Most students didn’t appreciate waking up at 6:30am but for the 20 year old, it was an ability built into her from a young age.

Sitting up in her bed, Charlie pulled her dark, curly hair from her face and tied it up as she took a look around her new room. The girl had to congratulate herself for creating a comfortable and clean living space, a place where she could relax and be herself. Its light walls were the perfect contrast to her beautiful, dark furniture and personal taste. She didn’t feel any deep connection, she never did what with moving around so much, but she felt content.

Charlie grabbed her nightgown and left her room, making sure to keep quiet as to not wake her possibly sleeping flatmates. She wandered through the cool apartment towards the kitchen in search of breakfast where, to her surprise, she found the inhabitants already there.

She only had two lodgers; a male and a female, both of whom she had never met before but had seen on the passing. The girl looked rough, as if she had been out all night and hadn’t gone to bed, which was most likely the case. The boy didn’t appear as bad though, but it was obvious he would have preferred to still be in his bed.

“Good morning,” Charlie greeted when she stepped into view, her voice as detached as ever. The two other students looked up in shock, either because they hadn’t heard her going about or because they hadn’t ever heard her speak.

“Hi!” the two said simultaneously which only caused the curly haired girl to stare.

“It’s Charlotte, right?” the male asked, his Fife accent stronger than Charlie expected. She nodded in reply while she fetched a bowl and her cereal. “My name’s Fraser, I don’t think we’ve met before,”

With a huge, cheesy grin on his face, he shook Charlie’s hand when she sat down at the small, round table. He was probably the same age as her but he looked only 17 with his shaggy brown hair, square framed glasses, and lanky frame.

“I’m Vanessa,” the strawberry blonde goddess said, wearing a stunning smile. She was plus-size but tall, and Charlie instantly decided that Vanessa wouldn’t suit being skinny, not when she carried off her size so well. She was Canadian and, even though she looked like hell, she was full of energy which unnerved the brunette.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Charlie replied politely prior to taking a spoonful of cereal.

“So Charlotte, what are you studying? Vanessa said she’s doing Dentistry and, well, I‘m doing Engineering,” Fraser asked.

“Um, Neuroscience.”

“Whoa!” the male gasped, “That’s pretty heavy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, today’s my first day,” Charlie retorted before she registered her tone. “But, uh, yeah, the application was quite demanding.”

It was awkwardly quiet for a minute or two until Vanessa changed the subject, much to Fraser’s relief. “So when did you get here? I’ve only seen you, like, twice,” she laughed as she toyed with a crust of toast.

“I moved in on Tuesday.”

“Seriously? You’ve been here this whole time? Did you go out at all during Fresher’s week?” the strawberry blonde questioned, completely dumbfounded by her flatmate’s admission.

Charlie eyed her up, unsure of why she was being questioned so much. “I went out to explore the town, searched the campus, decorated my room…” she could tell by the look on Vanessa’s face that it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “I’m not a fan of going out drinking, losing control, and making a complete arse of myself.”

The room fell quiet again, the uncomfortable atmosphere setting in. Fraser cleared the table and began to wash the dishes, obviously hoping to make a good impression on the girls as well as hopefully extinguish the awkwardness he felt.

“Did your family help you move in, Charlotte? It’s not the shortest of treks going from England up to Scotland,” the boy chuckled.

“I’m an orphan,” Charlie stated as she helped dry and clear the bowls and cutlery.

“Oh, I’m sorr-”

“Don‘t be,” she offered a small smile.

“So, where about in England are you from?” the Canadian asked before she took a couple Ibuprofen for her headache.

“Oxford.”

“Wait, wasn’t there a shooting or something at one of the high schools there?”

A deafening silence flooded the kitchen but it was unlike the previous times. Instead of unease, remorse was in the air. Charlie didn’t say a word, she didn’t even move. She only stared blankly at the ground as though finding it gruelling to remember the tragic day. Over the past two years, she had gotten really good at the whole act.

The brunette heard the distinct sound of Fraser slapping the back of Vanessa’s head, her stunned gasp confirming it.

“I’m so sorry, Charlotte! I didn’t think, I didn’t me-”

“It’s fine,” Charlie mumbled. “I should probably be over it by now but I just…I can’t seem to get those horrendous images out of my head…and Rupert…” She managed to produce tears and let them fall. “Excuse me,” was all she said when she rushed out the kitchen and went straight to the bathroom. As soon as she got there, she let herself chuckle quietly and wiped the salty tears away.

The truth was, she revelled in the grisly images that swarmed her thoughts, all the gory details that were her own doing. Only she could admire the beauty in those memories which kept her murderous desire ablaze. In the two years after the incident when she travelled around the country, she never once gave into her needs, no matter how badly she craved the release.

And with Rupert, she was glad he was out of her life and that she didn’t have to kill him herself. The only reason she put up with him was because he was so easily influenced and eager to please. He thought he had found his other half, the love of his life, the person who was similar to him and would do the unspeakable.

But Charlie didn’t seem him as anything like her; she thought quite the opposite. To her, he was weak and needy. He was a sheep. Charlie, on the other hand, was a shark. She was strong, driven, and so very twisted.

Once the student was showered, she headed back to her room where she instinctively locked the door. Turning on the television for background noise as she dressed, she caught word of what the newsreader was classing as ‘Breaking News.’

“We’ve just received information regarding the body found on the Fife shoreline late last night. It is believed to be the work of The Tongue Twister with the signature of the victim holding their severed tongue. Police have not yet released details about the body other than he is a white male in his mid to late forties. This is the fourth victim in the past three months and police still have no leads. Investigators are asking for anyone who may have information relating to the murders to come forward. In the mean time, people in the surrounding area are advised to keep an eye out for any unusual activity.”

Charlie’s interest was immediately taken by the report; all other thought was eradicated. She had heard about the deaths through gossip though had never paid any attention to it. But her face lit up with the concept of someone doing those things and being in the same location. As she continued getting ready for her first day of university, her mind ran with the possibility of being in the company of someone like her.

The brunette left her curly hair tied up, applied some basic makeup then grabbed her satchel and left her room. She mentioned a goodbye to Fraser as he darted out of the bathroom and into his bedroom before Charlie exited the apartment.

The walk from her new home to the university was short, though it allowed her enough time to get her head in the right place. With the way her timetable worked out, she only had two lectures that day, Psychology and Chemistry, and she knew the rest of her time would be spent in the library researching The Tongue Twister.

The lecture hall she walked into was already quite full; everyone was socialising with the people next to them, laughing, joking and making large gestures. Charlie wasn’t noticed as she found a seat near the front of the room and pulled out her notebook and pen.

The female seemed to be one of the few in the Psychology class who intended on learning, so when the professor walked in, a petite woman with short, salt and pepper hair and a wacky sense of style, Charlie straightened up and began taking notes at once as the woman spoke.