Status: This Story was actually written for a contest I participated in

His First Victim Was His Hardest (Do Not Read)

His First Victim Was His Hardest

This Story was actually written for a contest I participated in

(A bright light shines overhead as a woman awakes from her unconscious slumber. The pupils in her light green eyes dilate and wonder back and forth in an attempt to end the confusion and find some recognition of her surroundings. The woman’s name is Tanya. Tanya is a slight panic and although she attempts to stay calm, her heart continuously beats faster and her breather is slightly heavier.)

Tanya: Hello…? Hello?!

(A silhouette figure of a man blocks the shining light above her. The man speaks, but his voice sounds rather casual. It is not the soothing voice of doom or the demented sound of despair.)

Timothy: Well, you woke up a bit later than expected. (Removes the light from above her to reveal his face) Good morning; sleepy-head- well- (Chuckles his words a bit) good afternoon I should say.

(Tanya attempts to sit up but realizes she cannot move. She looks down at her feet and up at her hands to find her ankles and wrists held slightly stretched from her torso and chained to a filthy old stained hospital gurney.)

Tanya: What is this?

(Tanya stretches her neck back and looks around to find herself in a rather large warehouse filled with not only sterilized medical equipment, but life-size dummies with no faces tucked away beside an old workbench. She turns to her right but Timothy blocks her from seeing behind him. He slightly bends down to make eye-contact with her.)

Tanya: (Blissfully confused) What did I do; why am I here?

Timothy: (Nervously laughs while he stands up straight) Oh as if you don’t know.

(Timothy quickly glides his fingers through his short dirty-blonde slicked hair and stares at her for a few seconds with shaky palms tiny dots of sweat slowly forming on his face. He tries to keep a bold face bus fails miserably to do so.)

Timothy: You know very well what you did. (Shoves his face close to hers to about 10 inches) I’m not gonna stand here and baby you; you’ve done enough whining in your lifetime.

(Timothy stands and turns to face his back to her. Tanya seems to be a bit distraught but not nearly as much as the average person would be in this kind of situation.)

Tanya: Look; whatever you think I did; whatever you think I’m going to do; you have the wrong idea.

Timothy: (Crosses his arms and faces her) What do you see, when you look around, hmm? Do you see yourself in a safe place? Just… bare with me here? Look around, ask yourself do you feel safe and tell me what comes up in your mind.

(Tanya tugs on her chains and slightly gives off the impression that his answer should be obvious, but the slight fear slowly seeping through her, causes a hesitation.)

Tanya: I mean… I’m chained to a bed with no idea where I am; talking to some crazy lunatic. It should be obvious how I feel.

Timothy: (Getting less nervous) Let me ask you again: Look around and tell me if you feel safe.

(Tanya’s mind is slowly absorbing a small fraction of the reality her situation ensues. The thought passes through her mind slowly that she may not make it out of this situation in one peace.)

Tanya: (Feels a tiny bit more scared) I don’t feel safe…

Timothy: (Slightly smirks) Hmm… How- (Cuts himself off) No… Let me see; how can ask this question accurately? (Thoroughly thinks) Um… What is- your- definition of safe? Try not to think about it; just answer the question.

Tanya: If I can’t think; how can I answer it?

Timothy: I think you’re smart enough to know the answer to that.

Tanya: Sorry; I don’t know.

(Timothy suddenly charges at Tanya and once again shoves his face, cheek-to-cheek, into hers with a tiny scalpel pressed up against her neck.)

Timothy: Answer the question! (Calms down and backs off) What is your definition of safe? I’m not gonna ask you again.

(A a tiny stream of blood slowly travels down her neck. Tanya’s heart once again beats faster and in an attempt to keep herself mentally protected, her mind manifests an answer.)

Tanya: I don’t know… Not here… (Slightly tears up) Not this place… Somewhere I’m not scared and don’t have to feel so small… A place I feel familiar with and don’t have to hide… A home…

Timothy: (Nods) Good, good; a response…

(Timothy feels his mind drifting, but suddenly snaps back into reality.)

Timothy: This is your home. If you look around, you can very easily see it.

Tanya: (Looks around confused) I don’t see it… Please just let me go… I don’t wanna do this anymore.

Timothy: You live a shackled life, Tanya. Wake up bound by the hands to the dead-end job taking you nowhere, bound by the feet to the gentle callings of false serenity leading you to the night bars every night, (Looks her dead in the eyes) and bound in mind by the shackles of not understanding your own surroundings. (Spreads his arms) Look around at this place and understand that it’s the place you’ve been dwelling for years. This is the place where death is slowly creeping up on you. This is the place where you dwell and this is the place where you remain “rested” in shackles. This is your safe space.

(Tanya understands that Timothy has intentions to end her life. Her tears get slightly more aggressive and her fear gets more intense.)

Timothy: (Gets a bit aggressive) Your life is filled with regret; you don’t stop to count what blessings you do have. You hate your life and you hate yourself and you indulge in self-destructive habits.

Tanya: Do you blame me? You’re selfish and sick if you think I deserve to die because of what I’m forced to live with everyday! I go out and drink like a fish because it is the only way to drown out my sorrow! You have no idea what it’s like to feel like a black hole of misery swallowing nothing more than your own self pity and feeling like the only thing you deserve is whatever experience brings you closest to having a dagger stabbed through your heart! You don’t understand so you don’t have the right to judge!

Timothy: I understand all I need to. You’re comfortable living in your misery and you have no intention of changing… I… (Sighs) I really don’t want to do this… But you leave me no choice. You think you deserve misery than fine; I’ll give it to you, but not without giving you a chance to free yourself from your bondage. If you could say goodbye to one person right now; who would it be?

Tanya: (Sucks up her tears) It would probably be my husband.

Timothy: (Surprised) Ohh; why?

Tanya: To finally tell him how much of a life-sucking leech he is. To tell him how repulsed my own house makes me feel just because he’s in it!

Timothy: So now you’re understanding that you may die- here on this table today. You’re being honest and that’s a sign of great progress. Okay, so… Uh… I’ve never actually done this before but ta-da!

(Timothy moves to the side to finally unblock her vision and allow her to see what’s behind him. Tanya’s heart drops into her stomach at the sight of a man lying in the same position as her in a hospital gurney about 4 feet away. The only difference is that the man’s mouth is taped closed.)

Timothy: I present to you- drum roll, please- your husband John! I’m not so cruel as to tear apart two love birds, so I thought I’d bring you both in to play; only the loser of this game doesn’t walk away with their life.

(Timothy tears the tape off of John’s mouth quick and hard.)

John: (Panicking and worried for his wife) Honey, honey; Tanya; are you alright?!

Timothy: So here’s how it is: You, Miss Tanya, are one of many victims to come. I have a whole list of people who take their lives for granted and deserve a reality check or death. I’d rather not kill anybody, but unfortunately that’s how it has to be. Before I kill anyone, I feel as if I need to give them a chance to redeem themselves, so here’s your redemption. You’re scared right now because you don’t want to die. That means that some part of you has a desire to live and we are gonna find out what that desire is. Your husband is someone you feel is what kills you deep inside, so I’m giving you a chance to shed him from your life if you find redemption. If you fail to free yourself, that you die.

John: You sick freak! What kind of a monster are you?!

Timothy: A monster who’s sick of people using petty excuses to justify why they’re miserable all the time!

Tanya: I’ll make you a deal. You want one of us dead, than kill him.

John: What?! Honey you can’t be serious?!

Tanya: I am. I’m sick of feeling the way I do and you know what, it is because of you. My father left me and I directed my hatred for him into you. Killing you is the only way I’m gonna set myself free. (Turns to Timothy) I choose to seek the path of redemption.

Timothy: So you volunteer for me to kill your husband?

Tanya: No; I wanna do it.

Timothy: (Smiles) Good… If you want to seek redemption, than you’ll have to put fate into your own hands.

Tanya: I don’t wanna live with this pain anymore.

(John is in denial but cannot escape from the cold reality of his wife, whom he loved with all his heart, truly wants him dead. Timothy pulls out a gun from his back pocket. He flashes the silver pistol in Tanya’s face. Timothy is beginning to sweat once again and his heart races at 4 beats per second.)

Timothy: One bullet can fix it all.

(Timothy reaches into his pockets once again and pulls out a very small snub nosed pistol and the key, which he uses to unchain her shackles. He gives her the snub-nose. He points his pistol at her in case she tries to do anything crazy.)

Timothy: Now; go ahead; take your first step to freedom.

(Tanya stands over her husband as he stares at her quietly with a tear rolling down his face by her betrayal.)

Tanya: You don’t get any last words; I’m don’t listening to you.

(Tanya presses the trigger and the gun shoots John right in the bottom half of his torso He instantly falls unconscious.)

Timothy: How do you feel…?

Tanya: (A look of ecstasy) Fantastic…

Timothy: There was only the once bullet for you; good thing that first shot was enough.

(Timothy goes over to John and unties his shackles.)

Timothy: Now you will help dispose of his body and live the rest of your life as if he never existed.

(Once the last shackle is off, John quickly sits up and kicks Timothy in the face.)

Tanya: NO

(Tanya reaches for Timothy’s gun, but is interrupted by John jumping on her back wrapping his metal shackles around her neck. He pulls back as hard as he can- choking her very aggressively)

John: How could you… do this to me!

(Struggling as hard as she can, Tanya luckily elbows John in his bullet wound which causes him to loosen his grip enough for her to escape his bound. Tanya reaches for the pistol, but John quickly throws his body into hers to push her away from the gun. He grabs it instead and points it at her. She looks up at him with a void look; unable to utter a single word or comprehend a simple feeling. John hears Timothy attempting to aim his gun at John but out of self defense fires and hits Timothy in the side of his stomach. He turns to face his wife with his hands shaky back and forth like the rattle of a snake. He points it at her and desperately tries to deny the situation but can’t.)

John: (Nods his head slowly) Please, tell me you weren’t about to really kill me. Please, Tanya; this has to be some kind of sick joke.

Tanya: Baby… Baby I was going to… I’m sorry baby; I just can’t deal with this anymore and for the first time on my life, I’ve been given a window of opportunity to escape.

John: Baby, why didn’t you tell me?! We could’ve worked through this together. We could work through anything together.

Tanya: I know honey; but not this. This was something I had to deal with on my own. Now do what you have to do, John- (Slowly stands up and walks over toward Timothy as she’s talking) cause either you pull that trigger or I do. Either way, one of us is gonna die today.

John: No, baby; no, Tanya don’t do this, please don’t do this.

Tanya: (Picks up Timothy’s gun and slowly aims it toward him.) Make your move.

John: (Aims the gun at her and tightly closes his eyes) Tanya!

(Tanya pulls the trigger and as John is hit in his torso yet again, his reflexes cause him to pull the trigger and hit Tanya in her heart. Her entire body locks up and she takes a deep inhale as she collapses to the floor. John lies on the ground crying and yelling at the top of his lungs in psychological distressed of his actions. Timothy regrets what he’s done to them. John turns on his stomach punches at the ground over and over and over again in a fitting rage; breaking his knuckles after ever punch. He continues to scream and yell louder and louder. Timothy rushes John with a tiny tire iron. John turns around and his bashed in the face. His adrenaline kicks in and feeds his blinding rage. Timothy swings at his face again but John grabs it Timothy stomps on John’s wounds; causing him to throw up blow and cracks his ribcage. John lets go and Timothy jams the sharp end of the tire iron right into the center of John’s forehead. Timothy breaths heavily and looks down at his rapidly bleeding wound. He turns to Tanya and finds himself filled with regret. He walks over to her and drags his body over to hers. He gently grabs John’s hand and firmly places it over Tanya’s hand. He stands hunched over; holding is wound and looks down at the two empty corpses.)

Timothy: I know you loved her and I know she loved you too in her own way. I’m sorry I did this. You were my first victims and I honestly thought this would play out differently. I’m sorry for what I have done to you.

(Timothy walks away. He leaves from the dark warehouse of death and enters the blinding light of the outside world before collapsing to the ground. He’s left with the question of who was the victim; who was the killer; who was the teacher and who was the observer.)