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Chapter 11
NIKLAS
Ithits me so hard, like a dropkick splintering my body.
The blood curdling scream from deep in the woods, the same sound that beckoned me to follow only a few days ago, the fear in it… the siren’s song devouring the silence.
The difference now is that the pain vibrating through the soundwaves is making me see red, the fury spreading through my body with a force that threatens to shake the fucking earth and split it open.
I can’t seem to run fast enough though, because when the silence swallows her screams and the forest goes quiet, I don’t know if I’m running in the right direction. I’m still following the same path he made through the woods, but I know this takes me to my house and I have a sickening feeling that they’re nowhere near it anymore.
I have no choice though, so I keep running. The rifle hitting my back with every heavy step and leap I take over the occasionally rough terrain of the forest.
I don’t know how I ended up at this particular point. I fail to understand what it is about her. I never attach myself to anyone, never create any connections; nothing strong enough to bring this reaction out of me. Yet I react like this for her… for Suki… for the siren I just met.
What is it about her? Why do I feel this burning need to possess her, own her, fuck her…? Save her?
She’s not mine, not in the typical way. I don’t care for her, I don’t want her like a normal man wants a normal woman, because we are neither.
As the silence completely fills the dark woods and I run on the existing path through the thick snow, my mind drifts to the first time I realized what fear did to me. The first time I loathed its effects. I remember it like it was yesterday, that dark winter evening.
— ‡ —
Seventeen years ago…
By the time I finished class it was past p.m., and the sun was long gone, the moon high in the sky.
I always cut through the park when I went home, on the twisted paths through the thick trees, lit by the dim old streetlamps. My mother always told me not to walk through there at night, but I was fifteen, of course I wouldn’t listen to her. Not necessarily because I was a typical stubborn teenager, no, but because the park was my escape, my quiet time… my solace.
It gave me time to be with myself and I wanted this most of all. I never quite understood why everyone always wanted to talk to me; they all wanted to meet with me, be with me, be around me. And they always talked, so fucking much, they wouldn’t shut up. Especially the girls in school.
I’ve been told by the girls that the guys swarm around me because I’m the star of the football team, the guy all of them want to be. I’m already taller, broader, and stronger than most of them; my Viking genes must have something to do with that. On the other side, the guys told me that the girls always swarm around me because I’m the quiet one. I never give them enough attention, or any at all, so apparently that makes me attractive. I’m not an oblivious bastard, I just don’t care to waste my time.
The other reason people fail to leave me alone is my mind. I’m not a fan of the more liberal subjects; however, anything technical—math, physics, chemistry, anything involving numbers really, that’s where my skills lie.
What I don’t excel at is human interaction, yet that doesn’t appear to stop everyone from pissing me off all the time.
My mom talked to me about this. A while back she told me that it’s good to have friends, people around me… I always think she says that because she somehow wants me to see how other people act. I overheard her speaking with my father, apparently it has been suggested by my teachers that my social interactions are lacking. They recommended getting me tested for some sort of syndrome I didn’t care enough about to remember what it was called.
I couldn’t give a shit either way. I just go with it, let them talk, let them swarm around me… I joke with the guys and entertain the girls, even though most of them are mindless fucking bimbos. When I’m finished with them all, I walk through this park and clear my mind. I always take far too long to walk home, drawing out the time until I have to talk to yet more people.
As I walk slowly on the wet path, breathing in the cold winter air, I hear a muffled noise that sounds like someone struggling. I frown but keep to my route. Then I hear shuffling and I try to look around me to see if I can see something.
Nothing. I’m all alone…
“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!”A woman screams, loud and screeching!
Like a fucking banshee permeating the frigid air of this silent night and I feel the fear in it. The emotion is so strong it almost knocks me on my fucking knees, traveling through my blood until it reaches my dick with such force it stops me in my tracks.
I look down at myself, wondering why the fuck am I sporting a semi right now.
Then the woman screams again, the banshee screech filling the night and without thinking I walk in its direction. I look around myself several times, but no one else seems to be around. My dick is pulsing in my jeans, my blood is boiling, my pulse is racing, and I swear to the fucking gods, I feel the strain of a smile on my face.
I’m a long way away from the path, hidden behind some thick trees, the light from the path too far away for this area to be lit. I see a man, lying face down on the ground grinding its body against something. My eyes can barely register what’s happening, but when they do, I see it.
Rape. Fucking rape.
My dick jolts and I feel like I want to throw up. Bile rises up my throat, burning its way until it reaches the back of my tongue and just as I hear shuffling somewhere behind me, I flee in the opposite direction until I’m a few dozen yards away. I stop and throw up until there’s nothing left in my stomach.
