Have you ever killed someone? Feel your victims blood run down your body? See life leave one's eyes as you slowly insert a sharp knife through someone's chest? Hear the bones break and the organs rupture? The fountain of blood that comes pouring out of the once-living human? Some people do it for fun. Some do it for a thrill or an adrenaline rush, and some even do it because it arouses them. To see a victim strung up, with their guts spilled out onto the floor with the freshly cut gash across their stomach. For me, it's all three.

Slowly, I pulled the kitchen knife out of her throat. She had been bleeding out for some time, her neck and chest drenched in her blood from the several cuts and slashes I put into her. She deserved it though. "I killed her. I finally killed her." I thought, feeling a small sensation of joy, and sadness. Another one of my problems had been solved. Slowly, I stood up, and limped over to the nearby chair leaning up against the wall, my hand applying pressure to my stomach. There was the cold feeling of being in a basement that covered my skin in goosebumps. As I sat down, the knife slipped from my fingers and onto the stone floor. Weakly, I lifted my shirt up to just above my stomach. Blood dripped between my fingers as I slowly pulled my hand away from the stab wound. I could taste my own blood on my lips, a small trickle of it dripping from my mouth. It was in my teeth. The warm taste of fresh vital fluid. It fell from my lip and dripped down onto my chest.

The pain from my stomach was almost unbearable. I could feel my heart pumping faster and faster. My breathing was rapid, and I was practically hyperventilating. There had to be something nearby to stop the bleeding. My brain was overthinking, trying to come up with some idea. Then it struck me.

"It will do." I thought, taking my shirt off, and grabbing the knife. Slowly, I cut a hole through it and began ripping the fabric until I had enough to wrap around my torso, knotting it tightly. I groaned out in pain as the pressure from the cloth pressed up against my wound. It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing. I put my shirt back on and shivered, the lower half of my stomach now partially exposed. Faintly I could hear the sounds of approaching sirens. "He called them. He actually did" I thought to myself. Weakly, I pushed against my knees to help stand myself up. The knife I had dropped was retrieved, and slowly, I limped towards the stairs. "Is this really what it's like to be stabbed. I can see why people don't like it." My feet shuffled past the limp male corpse that had perished just before the women's. His neck broken at the bottom of the stairs, as well as one of his legs. It bent in an inhuman way, the bone having torn through the skin around the knee. Beside him was another male figure. He had been stabbed several times by an artists penknife, that as of this current moment, had found a home in the socket where his eye once was. The organ had been crushed beneath my boot not soon after it was removed.

It hurt to walk up those stairs, to pull myself up to the railing. Blood dripped from my hair and fell into my eye. I blinked a few times before wiping it away with my already bloody hand, probably making my face look worse. When I finally reached the top of what felt like a never-ending staircase, I started making my way to the front door. This was the feeling that I loved. The adrenaline rush. Three people were dead in my basement, by my hand, and the police were on there way. It felt thrilling. Never in my life did I think I would end up like this though; limping through my kitchen, leaving bloody footprints behind me with a slash in my stomach. I was starting to feel light-headed. Consistent and rapid breathing was starting to get to me. Police sirens could be heard getting closer, and soon the flashing red and blue lights shined through my windows.

"No, I wasn't just going to be arrested." I thought, "I had to get back to her. She would protect me like she always does. I'll kill anyone who stands in my way, I don't care who they are." Killing someone was always the easy way out of a problem. There was a knock at the door.

"Hello, this the BCPD, We're responding to a call about a potential murder." I could hear them say. The door was technically left open, and I could hear the creaking of it slowly opening. Making my way out of the basement entrance, and into the kitchen, I avoided the light that suddenly shinned down the dark hallway behind me.

"Hello?" I heard another voice say. Taking a deep breath, I looked towards the nearest window. It was just above the sink. Slowly, I lifted myself up onto the counter and tried pulling it open. My bloody fingers kept slipping and prevented me from getting any sort of grip. Shaking my head, I climbed down and tried running to the back door.

"Hey!" The voice said, followed by a bright light being shined in my direction. I tried pulling the sliding glass door open, but couldn't get the lock undone.

"Drop the weapon." Another voice said. "Get on the ground!" I turned to look at the two lights and held up a hand to block it. All I could see was the blinding light, nothing else.

"I said, drop the weapon!"

Slowly, I glanced down at the bloody knife in my hand, then towards the light. Everything happened so fast. I slowly raised my knife to the two officers, trying to keep them away from me while I reached for the handle of the glass door again, only I didn't get the chance to. The last thing I heard was a gunshot, and everything went dark.

It was an October morning, in the city of Bates County. The air was cool, and the wind was blowing gently, making the colored leaves dance around my front yard. They would go in circles, spiraling up into the sky before falling once the breeze had faded. Grey clouds above blocked out the warm sunlight, which at the moment, as the only thing providing any warmth, aside from my blankets of course. I was sitting at my window sill, on the small bench built into the wall. The covers I had buried myself under the night before, were sprawled out from my bed in the corner of the room to where I was now. Above it was four hands crafted letters, made from smooth oak wood. 'Z O E Y'. That's my name by the way if you didn't already know. It had only been a few minutes since the irritating sound of my phone's alarm had woken me up. I can have the most peaceful dreams, but the second that alarm goes off, they are shattered like glass, and I'm dragged back into reality feeling irritated.

I didn't want to unwrap myself from the warm cocoon I had made. It was too cold out, and the heater in my room isn't running. Though, if I didn't, I could be late for school, and that's something I never want to be. The best course of action would be to get dressed fast, right? Unwrap myself and quickly find the cleanest pair of clothes I have. That's probably what I'll do.

"Five, Four, Three, Two, One." I counted down with a whisper, before unraveling myself from the only warmth in my room. Despite the fact, my flooring was made of a soft, and beige colored carpet, my feet were still cold. There was only one part of my room that wasn't made from carpet, and that was a mat that I had placed over in the far corner, beside the window. It was there for one reason, and one reason only, which was to prevent any paint spilling from the big easel I had. I'm sure you can imagine how hard it is to get paint out of a rug, especially one as stainable as mine. My dresser was close by, so I quickly opened it and began searching for something to wear for the day. Already, I could feel the goosebumps forming across my skin, as I scanned the drawer, eventually finding a pair of clean underwear, and socks. After pulling off the yellow shirt over my head, and folding it on my bedside. I took a quick minute to smell my underarms. They smelled fine for now, but what would I know. My nose was always stuffed up this time of year, so my sense of smell was off. They could have stank and I wouldn't be able to tell. To be safe, I grabbed the bottle of deodorant, sitting on my bedroom dresser, and applied it. The outfit chosen for that day consisted of my usual plain colored t-shirt, with a hoodie over it. As I got dressed, I glanced down to the pile of dirty clothes that had gathered up in the corner beside my bed over the last few days. I made a mental note in my mind to wash them after I get back from school today, which I desperately needed to do. My drawers were practically empty and the clothes I had on was all that was left for the time being. That and one other outfit. I slid into a pair of folded skinny jeans, and put my socks on over my shivering bare feet. All that was left was to clean

Even with all the layers, I still felt the cold feeling in the air. The goosebumps up my leg didn't go away, and my body was still shivering. Nothing I could do about it though, aside from tough it out and move on with my day. Now that I was dressed, I could begin packing. Right next to my dresser, was a bookshelf, filled with several works of classic literature. I always found those stories to be the most interesting, before everything became oversaturated by the same genres and plot cliches. The good stories are the ones that were original at the time, in my opinion. My desk was right beside it, and I quickly noticed that my lamp was still on from the night before. Under its dim, and unmatched light to that of the outside was the algebra homework that I was finishing up, just before bed. Beside that, was the stack of homework I had in other classes, all of which I finished pretty quickly. It didn't take long to organize them all into their respective binders. There were only five classes I had to take, two of which were art classes. To make things easier, I only carried about three binders with me. One for each of my important classes. A used, and worn out sketchbook was open, and on one of the last pages. Before I even attempted my homework last night, I took the time to speed draw something. A simple prelim for an upcoming project.

Once my backpack was filled, and I was dressed, I stood up and made my way out of my room, but not before stopping in front of my mirror. It was a full-body mirror, so I just leaned it up against my wall, and haven't moved it scene. I couldn't help but look at myself every day. I'm not proud of my body, as I always felt as though my breasts were too small. There have been a few times when I could hear other girls talking about me in the halls, and nothing they said ever pleased me. I even reached a point where I felt like padding my chest, but that proved to be too uncomfortable for me and looked a bit too obvious. I was rather skinny, and slightly underweight, which made little sense with how much I ate, but my metabolism is pretty high, so that might explain it. If it wasn't for my long dirty blond hair and girlish clothing, anyone could mistake me for a boy. Every day I stare at myself for a moment, and every day I shake the feeling off. It wasn't something to get overly worked up about. They always say to accept who you are and to love your body and all that, but I don't believe it. I don't love my body, but there is someone who does. My mother. Now that sounds cheesy and corny like, "Yes, of course, your mom loves your body, she's your mom, she will support you in anything", but no, that's not the reason she likes my petite figure.

Quietly, I opened my bedroom door and slipped out into the hall. Just at the other end of it was my brother's room, and I have learned from past experience, that he doesn't like being woken up before his own alarm goes off. He value's sleepover his studies and I can't blame him. He's one of the Linebackers for Bate's University. I don't know exactly what that means, because I honestly couldn't give a shit about sports, but from what I hear, I think it's important. All I know is, he plays football for a fancy school. As for his grades, I haven't seen them, but for how little he says he studies, I'm assuming that they are rather low. During the time he 'claims' to be studying, I'm sure he's instead of having sex with that girlfriend of his. My parents and I haven't ever seen her, but my theory was confirmed when I found one of his used condoms in the bathroom we share. I should probably answer one question you might be asking, and that's if he goes to college, why is he still living here? Well, I actually think his idea is smart, and I might do it myself. It's cheaper to live at home then at the college dorms.

Anyways, I made my way further down the hall, and towards the stairs that led to the first floor of my house. Right next to them was a small table with my mother's old vase sitting on it. She always had a couple of white dendrobium orchids sitting inside it. Upon reaching the first floor, I was instantly able to spot my mother sitting on the couch in our family living room. It was connected to the kitchen, which is where the stairs led too. The TV was on, and she was watching the same channel she does every morning. It runs movies all day I think?

"Morning, Mom." I greeted her, speaking in a soft voice, but to no surprise, she didn't even bother giving me a glance. I should be used to it by now, but sadly, I'm not. My mom doesn't like me. Not even one bit. The only time she tolerates me is when she wants to use me. You see, the only reason my mother actually like me is because of my body. It's flat, and with how often the forces me to wash it, pretty smooth. It's not uncommon for her to drag me down to our basement and sit me down in a chair for hours on end, strip me naked, and use me as her own personal canvas for body painting. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. It's embarrassing enough being naked in front of my mom, but being forced to hold still while she feels me up, and running the bristles of her brush against my skin is still irritating. Well, it depends on where she is running the bristles because if it's in the right spot, it could feel a bit pleasuring. Aside from that one small thing, I absolutely hate it. To make things worse, once she is done drenching me in paint and styling me up, she will bring me over to set up, and take pictures of me. I have to pose and look all pretty, and presentable. I honestly don't know what she does with the pictures, and I'm split between wanting to know, and not wanting too. I don't get a say in if I want to do this. It's either I comply, or she locks me in her closet for hours on end. I love my mom, but I just hate her at the same time.

Seeing as she wasn't at all making breakfast, that meant I had to scarf something down quickly, while I made my lunch. I'm not spending money on the school's cafeteria. The food there is horrible like it is with most schools. I tossed two pop tarts into the toaster and began putting together a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly spread to the edges. I prefer to have white bread, but we were out, so I substituted with simple wheat bread instead. After grabbing some carrots, and other small snacks, I put them all into separate ziplock bags, before stuffing them into my lunch box with an ice pack to keep them nice and cold. As the toaster shot the pop tarts back up, the sound of my father's footsteps approached from behind.

He was already dressed up in his dress suit and tie and was only behind me to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. My dad worked for some big hotel in the city's center. Apparently, celebrities stop by every now and then, but I never get a chance to meet them, despite being the daughter of the hotel's owner. He cares little for me, like my mom. I have heard the two arguing about me before, usually with it consisting of complaints about their all A and artistically talented student. It hurts to listen to at times, to be honest.

"Morning Dad." I greeted him in the same tone of voice I did my mother. I'm sure you were able to guess that he said jackshit. My dad acted as though I wasn't there and walked over to his wife

"Good morning, Amber," He said, bending over and giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"Good morning, Ethan." She replied and gave him a kiss back. After that, my dad just picked up an old and worn out black briefcase, as he left. Ah well. I scarfed down the first chocolate pop tart and popped the second one into my mouth as I clipped my lunchbox to my backpack and made my way outside. Slowly, I pushed open my front door, which had two windows of stained glass to look out of. If I had a car, I could just drive to school, but by now, you could probably tell my parents weren't ever getting me one. So instead I carpool with my best friend, Riley. Speaking of which, she was parked just outside my driveway and waiting for me.

"Morning Zoey!" She called out to me from the open passenger's side window. I flashed her a smile, and climbed in, putting my school backpack between my legs on the floor. Riley was rather tall, and usually wore ripped jeans with a tank top and leather jacket, much like today. She had short black hair with purple dye on the ends.

"Good morning."

Riley stepped on the gas pedal, and started to drive, rolling up my car window as she pulled out onto the street. It was rather chilly out, even though we were only two weeks into October, but that's pretty normal here.

"So, how are you?" I tried to make conversation with her, but it was impossible to hide the tiredness in my voice. I had been up a little later than normal finishing up my homework for my second-hour class, as well as my prelim for the upcoming project.

"So, how are you?"

"I'm doing fine. What's up with you though? Not enough sleep?"

"Not really, no." I chuckled quietly and relaxed into my seat. "I was up all night working on that drawing again."

"The contest one, or whatever Mr. Mcvay gave you?" She tilted her head and glanced at me for only a second.

"Yeah, the one for the contest." I yawned, "I'm almost done with it. Just another week or two and I can start painting." She gave me a nod, and we drove together in silence for some time. I looked out the window at the passing houses as we left the neighborhoods and entered the big city of Bates County. I have lived here all my life, and have honestly never left. My family has never taken me on a vacation before, so all I know is this city. My own little world, separate from everything else that goes on outside it. Towards the city's center where several tall skyscrapers, with smaller buildings built around them. They got progressively smaller the further out from towns square you got. Bates High School was on the other end of town so that always meant a drive through the city every morning. I always liked looking out at the people as we drove by. Seeing them all waking up, and going about the start of their days. Kids running down the street to get to their own schools, and people riding their bikes to work. I never could understand how exactly people could do that in such cold weather, but I suppose it's the exercise that keeps you warm. Some of the local's stores were just starting to open, as well as several fast-food chains that we passed on the way to school. I actually work at one of them. My mom isn't a fan of fast food and grease because it 'can cause pimples to form on my skin'. So, I only work for a short two hours every Monday and Tuesday. It's not much, but money isn't something I honestly need a lot of right now. Usually, I have to take the bus from school to work on those days, then get back on it to ride home. My mom forces me to shower twice when I get back to make sure that my body is cleansed of any grease or what else I'm 'exposed' to there.

After some time of sitting in silence, I turned back to Riley and asked,

"So, what did you do last night?"

Riley glanced over at me, then back towards the road.

"Just some texting, soda, and an hour-long video of whatever I could find at twelve in the morning." She replied with a chuckle. "You should try it out, it's not as productive but it's less stressful."

"Maybe I should. But I have too much homework."

"Your already an amazing student Zoey, one or two late assignments wouldn't be that bad right?"

"I mean, I guess not?" I simply shrugged my shoulders, "But, I'm all caught up now, so I won't have any homework over the weekend at least."

Riley went quiet for a few seconds, and I turned to look at her. She had that face on her which told me that she was about to ask me something and that she already knew what the answer was going to be.

"If that's the case," She started, "There's a new horror movie coming out tonight! Wanna come watch it with me?"

"Yup, there it is." I thought. Honestly, though, I can't stand horror movies. It's not like I hate them or anything, but I'm too much of a coward to watch them. The last one I watched was that one famous shark movie, and according to Riley, that one wasn't even that scary. The film kept me up for days and gave me a fear of water for a short time.

"H- Horror movie?" I let out a long sigh, "You know I don't like those."

"I know but you gotta at least try again. Look, if you really don't like it we can walk out of the theater at any point. No strings attached."

I sat there in silence and thought about her offer. It did seem a bit unfair to me. Riley and I spend so much time together, we could practically be sisters, and I'm usually the one that drags her to the movies. Everything she wants to see is horror related because that's the kind of geek she is. You could probably ask her any question about any horror movie, and she would have multiple answers to it. Anyways, it is unfair. I always drag her to things I want to see and refuse to see the things she wants to. I feel bad about it sometimes, to be honest. After thinking about it in silence, I eventually settled on a decision. However, when I spoke, I couldn't hide the hesitation in my voice.

"I guess. What's it about?"

"It's apparently a sequel to a classic horror movie! A famous serious killer escapes the prison and returns to kill his old victims. Reviews say it's really good."

"And... I can leave at any time, right?" I asked, wanted reassurance on her response.

"You know I wouldn't force you to do anything."

"I- I know." It went silent between the two of us again, "Would you be okay if I spent the night at your place?"

"Sure," Riley replied almost like she completely understood why I'd ask. If I was going to watch a horror movie, there's no way I would be able to sleep that night. Since I didn't get any sleep last night, I could only imagine how long this one was going to be.

After some time, we made it to the school. Riley pulled into the schools parking lot and passed by the drop-off lane, which led to the front of the school. I'm sure you all know what a drop off lane is, but it's for those kids who either can't drive yet or don't have a car. Their parents drop them off in that lane and pick them up later after school. If you went left, instead of right in the parking lot, you would go along a long stretch of road past the sports field in the back of the school to the back parking lot. Now, this is where all the kids who could drive parked. The schools back entrance was a lot better looking than the front one. We had a nice courtyard, with a diamond-shaped sidewalk, leading to the back doors. In the middle of the diamond, was a straight path to cut right through to the other side, and into the parking lot directly. Benches and trees were placed around the outlines of the sidewalk, and we had a small series of flower gardens between the paths. Zoey parked in her usual spot, someplace closer to the track field, and the two of us got out of the car. I slipped the strap of my backpack over my arm, and stood up from the car, shutting the door behind me. I always found it easier to carry my backpack with one strap. It made it a bit more convenient for taking it off and putting it on. Majority of the kids here wear their backpacks with both arms through the straps, but I'm not like them. Maybe that's a reason why people think I'm weird and they never talk to me? Ah, who cares.

"So, I'll just see you after school then?" I asked Riley, turning to look at her as we both made it to the sidewalk.

"We still have lunch together." She replied with a grin, lightly tapping my shoulder with her own.

"Oh yeah, that's right." I couldn't help but slam my hand into my face. I guess I really do need to get more sleep if I'm forgetting something as daily as that. "So, I'll see you then?"

Riley gave me a nod, as the two of us walked into the schools back entrance. It led us directly into the school's cafeteria, which was a large rectangular room, with several red pillars holding the ceiling up. We had a glass roof to see the sky above, but the glass was always so dirty, and old, the only thing we could see was a blur. It did make for some interesting lighting during fall and winter though. The lunch tables had all been pushed against the walls, which was a normal thing to see every day. They didn't need to be set up yet, as lunch wasn't for another couple of hours. Just past the cafeteria was the school's main hallway, with the art room being a part of it. I waved Riley goodbye as she kept going down the hall, while I turned and made my way to the first hour.