“So.” Sophie turns her head to me. “How do you feel?” I give a laugh.
“Fantastic. Let’s do a few more.”
“Interesting,” is all she says. There’s a flash of hungry curiosity in her eyes that makes me repress a shudder. Does she have any idea how attractive it is when she looks fascinated by me?
The next week is a blur.With a sidekick in tow, I feel more inspired than ever to keep killing. I’m hungry for it each evening. We finish our dinner, and her eyes bug as I drag her back out.
“Again?” She asks in exasperation. I can’t stop; I don't want to. This is addicting. I’ve never had a more thrilling time in my life and have never been so close to someone else. Usually, there’s a crevice that separates me from everyone else. But Doctor Moore is different. She’s right here beside me. Even if grumpy about the fact, she’s still on my side of the crevice, hand in hand, as I drag her from murder to murder.
I don’t ever want this to stop, but there’s a growing concern flashing in Sophie’s eyes each new time I drag her out. Her exasperated complaints about the carnage start to sound like true worry.
“You need a break,” she insists. We’ve just broken into a house. I press a finger to my lips and keep moving through the house.
“Soren, please,” she begs.
7
SOPHIE
“Soren, please,” I beg under my breath. The house is dark and quiet. I don’t want to wake up the next victim and get caught in his house. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Serial killers don’t maintain. They degrade. They get sloppy, their mental health plummets and they either die or get locked up forever. I don’t want that. Soren isn’t a bad guy. Plus, his kids need him. And selfishly, I need him too. If my study ends here, it’ll feel incomplete. That begs the question of when it would ever feel complete. Never is a very long time.
“Doctor Moore,” he chides. “I’m working on myself. You should be pleased. Your advice works beautifully.” He waves around his sharpened icicle as he talks. Drops of cold liquid drip in a line like breadcrumbs going deeper into the house.
“I’m worried about you,” I admit. He arches an eyebrow.
“I feel better than ever,” he comments with a hand wave. I sigh.
“You’re starting to spiral. How many people have you killed this week? It’s turning into every night. You even canceled the video call with your kids.” I need him to see the change that’shappening, or I’ll never be able to help him. Soren stops walking, a conflicted expression shuddering over his face.
“I need this,” he whispers, eyes moving to mine.
“You don’t.”
He shakes his head and turns from me. The stairs creak under his boot, and we still. I hold my breath a moment, listening. Then I surge forward and grab his arm, pulling him away from the stairs.
“My icicle is melting,” Soren comments, allowing me to pull him into the man’s living room. The place is dim, besides the twinkling colored lights. They reflect off bauble ornaments. It’s a small room made even smaller by the fake Christmas tree pressed in the corner.
“What can I say to make you not kill this man tonight.” I grip his forearms, tugging on his coat with my hands. He’s better at listening when I’m hands-on.
“Thisguy? Tonight? Nothing. Now, excuse me, but the murder weapon is melting all over my glove.” Soren moves around me, back to the stairs.
This is bad. I have a feeling that if he kills tonight, he’ll never develop the ability to withhold killing from himself. It’ll be an addiction he has no tools to control. It’ll be the end of Soren. He won’t be a paramedic or a dad. He’ll just be a killer, slowly losing his ability to function in society.
I need to distract him. I need to be hands-on. This is a crucial moment, and I’m losing him.
“I’ll suck your cock,” I blurt out. Soren stops moving, going completely still. I suck in a sharp breath, surprised by what just came out of my mouth. Where the hell did that come from? Part of me wants to reel the words back in, but he’s reacting.
Soren turns, glancing at me over his shoulder.
“What was that?” He asks. I take a shuddering breath and then drop to my knees next to the living room chair. His eyes widen.
“Come over here,” I say, patting the chair. He turns to me fully, looking shocked and confused.
“I didn’t hear you right,” he says.
“You heard me. Come sit down,” I say. Soren lets out a strangled laugh. He opens his mouth several times without saying anything.
