Trevor pointed the gun at his father's head, he chuckled, "shooting you in the head would be mercy," he pointed the gun at his fathers foot and pulled the trigger. The killer screamed out in agony. I gulped and looked down at the sink, I held onto the counter.

Is this r-really happening? I mean it makes sense his father is a serial killer and so is Trevor... I'm guessing. I know there's a requirement for being labeled a serial killer but Trevor is at least a psycho and a murderer.

"Marti come here," Trevor said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I walked over to him slowly and looked at the killer on the ground. "You wanna stab him in the eye or maybe pluck it out?" Trevor asked.

"T-Trevor! I'm n-not going to do that!" I said and backed away from Trevor.

"Fine, then you can watch," he said in a serious tone. I felt my stomach turning already. I could close my eyes but that wouldn't block out the screams I know I'm going to hear.

I walked over to the bedroom and closed the door behind me. I heard another gunshot go off and his father scream again. I covered my ears and tried to ignore it.

Trevor opened the door, "I want you to wat-" he stopped when he saw me covering my ears and clenching my eyes tight.

"I-I don't want to watch that... I don't know if I can stomach what you're going to do to him," I admitted, I grabbed a pillow and hugged it, looking at the ground.

He walked over to me, "he's tied up, I covered his mouth with tape, can you just sit out there with me? I don't wanna be alone when I do this."

I looked up at him hopeless. I hugged the pillow tighter and Trevor rubbed my back. I stood up and followed him, I'd rather not be dragged to the living room or possibly killed along with his father.

I went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. Then I sat on the couch and grabbed a blunt and lit it. I took a sip of water and a small hit. Trevor handed me a set of headphones with an iPod. I stuck them in and played some music as loud as I could stand it. Trevor started punching his father in the face. I looked down at the table and started reading all the stickers and quotes.

"Be the change that you wish to see in the world."

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."

"It's okay to help the world, but remember to help yourself."

I watched Trevor make lines for himself, he took three in a row very quickly. He jumped up in excitement. I looked back down at the coffee table, and saw there was a scratched out quote that looked like it was carved in;

"Kill yourself Trevor - Papa."

What the hell... I know his father is a serial killer but I can't imagine what his father did to Trevor growing up... to carve something so horrible into Trevor's table... why did Trevor keep this table?

I know I shouldn't be feeling bad for him but I can't help it, maybe Trevor wasn't born with any disorders or anything like that. Maybe he was raised that way?

Shit I feel crazy saying that to myself. I really do feel bad for him... maybe I can find out more about Trevor and assess again later? If he didn't torture animals as a child or maybe he does feel sympathy he could be helped?

Still he killed that girl... I can forgive drug dealing obviously, I do it myself but he tortured her to death... she has a family, friends, coworkers, has no one tried to look for her?

I looked up at Trevor, he was smirking and his face had blood splattered on it. I dared to look down at his father.

Holy fuck...I regret looking...

I immediately gagged, I ran to the bathroom to the toilet and began to vomit.

He... he gutted his father... his father was still moving... I could see his organs moving... I feel so weak right now... oh my god. There was blood everywhere. The twitching... I think that's the worst thing I've ever seen.

I got sick, everything I ate that day was gone in an instant. I crawled into the bathtub afterwards and just turned on the cold water. I grabbed the mouthwash and rinsed my mouth out at much as I could for now. My throat stung. My body ached. My heart won't stop beating.

He could kill me just like that one day... he really could... I need to remember that. I should've learned where he keeps every single weapon in this house. I should've made a weapon and hid it myself.

This isn't a good situation I'm in but I don't need to end up like that... god fucking damn... how am I getting out of this shit...

"Marti?" Trevor asked softly, distracting me from my racing thoughts, "I buried his body... are you alright? You've been in here for a while..." I cringed at the thought of him burying his father...

God do I even want to know where?

"Wait.. What? How long have I been in here?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"I'd say about 45 minutes, maybe an hour... do you need help out of the shower? Did you fall?" He asked. He sounded like he really cared, but I can't believe it.

He opened the curtain slowly and he had a big fluffy towel in his hand. He was clean, changed his clothes to a black t shirt and black sweatpants. "You're still in your clothes? Marti..." he said and I took off my clothes when I realized.

I can't believe I've been in here for an hour... cold water running... sitting in my clothes. How did I lose track of that much time?

He wrapped the towel around me and helped me walk into the bedroom, he sat me on the bed and wrapped a blanket around me. "You've gotta be freezing..." he said and turned on the heater, pointing it at me. I looked past him into the living room and saw the carpet was covered up by plastic.

"Did... did you have that plastic there the whole time...?" I asked.

"Oh uh no I did not... I brought it out after shooting his feet so there is a bit of blood around the plastic... it did get messy," he said.

"Oh... I guess we need a new carpet..." I could feel the life draining out of me with every word I spoke.

"You should get some sleep Marti," Trevor suggested.

"Yeah... I'll try," I said. I dried myself off completely and got into comfy clothes. Trevor came back with a glass of water, bag of crackers, he also had a bottle of sleeping pills.

"I brought these in case you need help sleeping," he said and put all the items down on the bedside table. "By the way, my father is buried really far away and really deep. I put chicken bones and other bones I found along the way on top of him and y'know kept putting more dirt on him and then more bones and..." he started trailing off and got quiet when he saw my blank stare at him. "Ha... yeah we should get in bed," he said.

I got on my side and sat up, he turned on the tv, I started eating some crackers and drinking water. As much as I could stomach eating at the moment.

———

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. I slumped out of the bed and wrapped myself in a blanket. Trevor was cooking breakfast again. I looked out into the living room and it was all tile. The carpet was completely gone and everything was clean.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning..." I said back and walked out. I walked over to him and looked at his cooking, he put his hand on the back of my neck and rubbed my muscles gently.

Why is he so sweet to me now... I mean was he ever really mean to me? I can't even remember. I'm so confused honestly with all the events going on. Everything is so chaotic so suddenly, I'm not used to it at all. Not like I thought I was before. I assumed my life had been hectic before. That old life is nothing compared to right now.

Trevor flipped on the TV to the news and it showed police helicopters over the forest. "Uh..." I said.

"Oh they found him that quickly," he chuckled.

"That's where he's buried?!" I asked, "what the fuck Trevor."

He buried his father in a FUCKING PLAYGROUND SANDBOX.

He started laughing and sat back in the couch. I stared at him. He looked at me, "oh c'mon that's hilarious. Plus he has his confessions with him."

"His confessions?"

"I carved it into his skin, "I'm the Castle City Killer, here are my victims", then I carved the entire list on his back of victims, even the ones that police didn't know about as well," he said.

They showed the police digging up bones and digging up more dirt. "How did police know where to find him?" I asked.

"An anonymous tip," Trevor muttered.

My heart started racing, "what if they find out you did it?!"

"They're not going to find out I promise," he said, nonchalant.

"You tortured him to death they're going to want to know who did it, you still killed him Trevor..." I explained.

"Trust me, a lot of police men lost their children and wives to this guy, they'll thank me for what I did before I ever get locked up," he proudly explained.

I sighed, "there's going to be that one rogue cop that still wants to find you, please remember that."

He looked me up and down, "how would you know that?" He stood up.

"I've studied psychology all my life, that includes a cops mentality. I know from the nastiest of cops to the most just of cops, they all have one thing in common though-"

"What's that?!" He interrupted me.

"They all have their own motives for why they do what they do." I said.

He sighed and looked down, "well... I'm not concerned, eat and watch tv," he sat back down.

I chuckled slightly, "what I said makes sense though doesn't it?"

"It does, but Castle City is full of crooked cops and my father didn't have any friends nor any family that talked to him," he explained. "So chances of anyone giving a fuck about him is zero to none."

I nodded and looked at the tv, they dug up the body in a plastic bag, they zoomed the camera in and showed his chest, you could see there were carvings in his chest, but you'd have to clean it first to see what it says.

"Ugh," I said and closed my eyes. I looked down at the bacon and then at my fingers.

"I'll change it," he said and changed the channel to cartoons. "I didn't know you were so queasy with that stuff." I looked at him with a blank stare. He chuckled and leaned over to me, he cupped my face, "you're so cute though so it doesn't matter," and kissed me softly. I closed my eyes and let myself be embraced.

His arm wrapped around my back and pulled me closer to him, he rested his forehead on mine. I opened my eyes and saw he was smiling. He rubbed my back up and down and fit his head into my neck. He rubbed up my back, then ran his fingers through my hair.

"I feel so much better," he whispered.

"I'm glad to hear that," I whispered back.