Page 8 of Dying Flame

The bar is packed tonight with faces I recognize and some I don’t. I’ve finally turned 21 and can come out and enjoy myself with other classmates. Although I look older than my age, I’ve never ventured out to a bar before; it’s my first time. Zach, my roommate kept pestering me about going out, but I didn’t feel the need to, until tonight.

I feel out of place here; everyone else is hanging out, having fun, and with their friends. My only friend here is Zach, and he’s chatting up some blonde I’ve seen around campus a few times. I ordered a beer that tastes like shit, and I feel people are staring at me, when they’re probably not. I hate it here; I should just go back to my dorm room.

A light tap on my shoulder surprises me, but when I turn around, a beautiful brunette is standing behind me.

“Is this spot taken?” I can barely hear her over the music and chatter of the bar around us, but I nod my head anyway. She was referring to the chair next to me at the high-top table Zach and I picked when we first arrived. I haven’t left this spot, and he’s been bouncing from girl to girl tonight.

The brunette takes a seat, and a server comes over to take her drink order: a Manhattan. I don’t even know what that is, but the server looks in my direction, and I point to my beer, and she walks away. It seemed like a reflex to do that; I didn't want her to sit here by herself.

“I’m Kayla, by the way,” she yells over the noise.

“Devin,” I say back, and she smiles. The wrinkles around her eyes indicate she’s not my age. Looking more closely, I notice she has a wedding ring on her left ring finger. What is she doing at a college bar so late at night, alone?

“Here with someone?” I ask, the beer is starting to kick in.

“I was with my little sister, but she’s busy talking to someone else,” she smiles again. Her smile is radiant, so joyful, and full of life. She has bright blue eyes that sparkle in the light.

“I was with my roommate, but he’s busy too.”

“Well, I guess we’re part of the unlucky crew tonight,” she shrugs.

We have our drinks in silence; the world around me starts to buzz. I don’t usually drink, and I had a light dinner before going out. For some reason Kayla becomes even more beautiful as the night goes on. After some light conversation, she looks over, “wanna get out of here? I’m staying at the motel at the end of town.” I nod in agreement without thinking. Maybe I’m too buzzed to drive, but I don’t care.

I walk her over to my beat-up Honda and open the passenger door for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she laughs. It’s just the way I was raised. As I walk over to the driver's side, I get an intrusive thought. Before getting in the car, I look around and don’t see anyone else in the parking lot. I wonder if they have cameras here.

Since she’s not from here, she won’t notice I’m headed in the wrong direction. I know where the motel is, but that’s not where we’re going tonight.

Kayla lazily rests her head on the headrest and starts going on and on about her job, how much she hates it, and how hard it is. I’m not paying attention to what she’s saying, but I grunt and make it as if I’m listening to her nonsense. If I had actually realized how easy it was to get a complete stranger to get in my car, I might have done this a lot sooner.

For years the urges have been growing, wanting, and needing to be fulfilled. I’ve tried ignoring them and busying myself with other things. Tonight I won’t suppress them any further. Tonight is the night, and she has no idea what’s going to happen to her.

I drive up and pull into a secluded area I’ve been to a handful of times. There’s an old barn here that should be condemned. It’s a quiet place that I’ve used to calm my thoughts and get some peace away from campus. Every time I’ve been out here, not one other car has come through the area. I’m not even sure if many people use this road.

“Where are we? Is this the way to the motel?” Kayla asks, finally more aware of her surroundings.

“It’s on the way, but I think I might have a flat tire. The car is driving a little funny,” I say worriedly. The idea that I came up with this excuse out of the blue is a little disturbing to me. Like, I’ve been planning this for my entire life.

“Just stay here; it shouldn’t be long,” Kayla nods her head. I go around and pretend to check on the back tire before opening the trunk and taking out a trash bag I have here. I open the passenger door; my heart beats so fast I think I might pass out.

“Can you help me?” I ask sincerely, and I see her roll her beautiful blue eyes before getting out of the car. She turns her back to me and bends over to inspect the rear tire.

“Which tire is it? I can’t see that this one is flat…” My body reacts before my mind can catch on to what it’s doing. I wrap the bag around her face and pull it taut while my arm wraps around her body to hold her against me. She scratches at the bag over her face, but it’s a thick, heavy-duty bag.

It doesn’t take long for her to stop struggling as much and stop scratching at the bag. She doesn’t think to scratch my arm that is wrapped around her. It must be the alcohol making her not react in a way that I was expecting. I hold the bag over her face for a few moments longer after she’s gone limp, then I lay her down on the ground.

I’m oddly calm. My vision and senses are completely clear…and I feel exhilarated. For the first time in my life, I feel at peace. Now I have to get rid of Kayla’s body. I didn’t think of that beforehand, but now I know just the spot. As I go to pick her up, she stirs, and chills run down my spine.

My immediate reaction is to press the bag against her face again, but if the first time didn’t kill her, I have to try something else. It’s dark out here besides the light of my headlights still on from when I parked. It barely illuminates the area around me, but I spot a rock close by.

I run to grab it and kneel beside Kayla, who by this point is trying to sit up. I place the bag over her face again and raise my hand with the rock in it, and bring it down with as much force as I can. Over and over again. Until I feel her skull crush into a pulp beneath me.

Shit.

Blood pools around me—soaking my jeans and covering my hands. I don’t know what time it is, but I need to get her body off this fucking field and into the barn.

I need to plan better. To not let my emotions get the best of me. This is only the beginning of a very long journey.