The Blue Rose

27. Aster

TWENTY-SEVEN

ASTER

I t’s only been a day, but I feel restless. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I don’t even want to hunt. I haven’t felt the desire for pain since the little lamb right after I met Serena. I just haven’t had the urge, the need to kill, since she’s walked into my life. Ever since I can remember, the impulse to end a life has always been in the forefront of my life. I have a system, a routine, one that I have never strayed from, until now. Serena has come into my life and created beautiful chaos, she is and always will be my equal and I would never go back to who I was before her.

I know she said we will talk when she gets back, but how long will that be? Will she be gone for a couple days? Weeks? I pace back and forth in my bedroom, staring at the last message she sent me. My head is sore from how much I’ve been pulling at my hair.

Patience. I need to be patient. She’s getting the answers she needs. The answers I need as well. I need to understand what happened. I want to help her become who she was always meant to be. My partner. She killed Jessica? I thought she was like an imaginary friend or some shit, and my girl was just crazy. Turns out she’s crazy crazy, but in a way that matches my own. I knew there was something about her from the moment I met her, a darkness swirling in her eyes. That’s why I told her my secret. Her eyes; they look like the north sea. Dangerous, yet beautiful. She’s truly a vixen.

My vixen.

My phone bounces on the bed, hitting the pillow and disappearing under the sheets. I collapse onto the edge of my bed, my arms on my knees and my legs vibrating. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my buzzing nerves.

Everything will be okay. She trusts me. I trust her.

Trust. That’s a word I never thought I would use. Let alone truly, willingly, giving it to a single soul. But Serena is different; our souls are entwined with one another. Since I started killing and she started painting, we’ve been connected.

We have always been destined for one another. Her fucked up yin, to my just as fucked yang.

I lay down on the bed, my hands crossed over my eyes. The rain outside is getting heavier, the drops making a melody against the window. The colder days are coming as we inch closer to Thanksgiving. I never do anything for any holidays, aside from Halloween, but I only go to my haunted house and watch as people scream and flee.

The joy I feel watching the fear in their eyes, listening to the terror leaving their lips, makes me excited every year for it. People are strange, paying to be scared shitless. Sometimes, I get lucky and find my next victim at my haunted house, never taking them from there directly. That is rare, though, since I only visit on Halloween.

My birthday is coming up, but I don’t feel like celebrating this year, which is odd especially since I finally have someone to celebrate it with. Every three to four years on my birthday, I pick a victim who doesn’t look like my regular lambs. It isn’t my usual preference, but around my birthday, since it was the day my parents were taken, I become greedy. The compulsion I have to take another life is so overwhelming I take any girl I deem worthy of my blade that night. I never display them. My birthday victims are for my eyes only. After the life leaves their eyes, I cut them into pieces and throw them into the incinerator. Watching as their skin bubbles and turns to ash fills me with peace. Once the last piece is disintegrated, I scrub the place clean, and even burn the outfit I was wearing, standing in nothing but my birthday suit.

Doing this never connects those missing girls to me. No body, no crime, simply a missing girl, every several years, on my birthday.

No one has connected those dots or even figured out that a girl goes missing every couple years on November thirteenth. If they did, they would probably think it was a different serial killer since the motives are different.

Staying here is doing nothing but driving me crazy. My foot taps incessantly as I make images out of nothing from the popcorn ceiling in my room. The only thing I want to do is go to the haunted house and watch people enjoy and fear my creations. It’s only open for a couple more weeks, the event closes down at the end of November, giving me time to think and create new ideas. Maybe going there is the motivation I need to kill again, to spark what fizzled away with my vixen’s rise.

I’m not liking this feeling to not kill, that isn’t me. I’m a monster. A killer. A predator. I need to reignite that, and maybe, since my vixen is away, this fox can hunt.

Screams from the guests can be heard across the parking lot. I reverse in the spots designated for employees. Taking one of the spots reserved for the higher management.

The rain stopped on the way over, but even if it didn’t, the attractions are open. Unless it is a bad thunderstorm, we stay open. I find running through the forest when it’s raining can be even more frightening for the guests. It makes their adrenaline heightened, and they always come back for more. Plus watching some of them slip and fall is quite amusing.

The door is locked to the employee entrance, grumbling, I take out my keys trying to find the right one.

“Uhm, excuse me? You can’t go in there; that’s the employees only entrance.” I look behind me, gritting my teeth, hands fisting at my sides, and see a petite redhead in zombie makeup, probably for the day of the dead house. Her hands are on her hips, and she nods to the sign above the door. “Can’t you read? It says ‘employees only’.”

Of course I can read, and it’s no surprise I know this entrance because I’m the one who put the sign there.

You can’t kill your employees, Aster.

I take the pack of cigarettes from my pocket, placing one in my mouth and lighting it. Taking a long drag, letting the nicotine hit the back of my throat, I blow it into her face. She waves her hand in the air and has a coughing fit. That’ll show you, bitch. “I know the owner,” I say, taking another long drag.

“Ha! That's funny. No one knows the owner. How would a nobody like you know them?”

I lean down and whisper in her ear, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” She shoves me away from her, her lip curling in disgust. “Like you said, it's a secret.”

She pushes past me to unlock the door. “Well, I don’t believe you, so get lost.” She opens the door just enough for her to fit through and tries to shut it on me.

Big mistake.

I slam my hand on the top, forcing it open and watching in triumph as she falls to the ground. Cigarette still in my mouth, I take it out and tap the ash onto her foot, watching her legs retract into herself. I kneel in front of her and drop the cigarette to the floor and crush it with my boot, killing the flame. She watches in horror, and her breathing becomes labored.

“You know, my birthday’s in a couple days, but I’ve had a really shitty couple of hours, so I was thinking about celebrating early.”

Shock crosses her face, making her eyes bulge, “W-what?”

I stand up, offering her my hand, she hesitantly grabs it. “Do you want to celebrate my birthday with me?” I ask, putting on my fake smile, the one that makes pretentious girls like her swoon.

“Why? So, you can seduce me and I get you in for free? Ha! Nice try. Thanks, but no thanks.” She rips her hand out of mine, “You need to leave before I call the manager.”

Amused, I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall. “Go ahead.”

She huffs out a breath and takes out her phone, tapping her foot while she waits for an answer. After the third ring a voice on the other end answers. His voice is muffled, but she tells him a customer is saying he knows the owner, is trying to get in for free and he needs to come here right away. She hangs up with a satisfied smile on her face.

“You’re going to regret testing me.”

I shrug. “We’ll see.”

A few minutes later, a familiar freckled face comes walking through the door, chest puffed out and face red. She runs into his arms and buries her face into his shoulder. He hasn’t even looked at me yet, but I know he’ll be sorry once he does.

“Baby, this guy,” she motions towards me, lip jutting out, and clutching his shirt. “threatened me and won’t leave.” She nuzzles into his arms, he kisses her head and shushes her, mumbling something I can’t hear. When he finally looks up, he sees me, the blood drains from his face, and the words about to leave his tongue evaporate.

Of course, this chick is dating one of the few people who actually know my identity.

He pushes her off of him. “Shit, Aster; I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at Sherry; she doesn’t know any better. She’s new. I got her the job, cause she loves to act, and I thought she would do great-”

I hold my hand up and step off the wall. Her name is Sherry, and her hobby is acting? I scoff, looping my thumbs into my belt loops. Of course it is; with her dyed red hair and stamped on freckles, she looks like she’s always trying to be something she isn’t. No wonder she wants to play a zombie. She wants to act like her true self: dead inside. She’s probably just using Sam to get in here free and experience what Graves truly is . Plus, as a worker you get three free tickets to give to your family or friends as an added perk to the job.

He nudges her forward. “He knows the owner; I forgot to brief you since you missed orientation. I show all the employees a picture of Aster, letting them know he's a family friend of the owner and gets in for free. He usually only comes on Halloween, or lets me know when he’s coming, and has keys, but I guess he forgot this time.” He raises his eyebrow, making the last comment a subtle dig.

“She skipped orientation, and she’s still working here?” I ask, annoyed one of my trusted employees is bending the rules for his plaything.

He looks away in shame. “Yeah, but I was going to brief her later. Then things happened, and I forgot. Totally on me; sorry.” He elbows her in the side. “Say sorry.”

She crosses her arms. “Why should I? It’s your fault I didn’t know about him, and you already apologized.”

He drags his hand down his face. “Sherry, please .”

“Please what? I’m not doing it; I don’t care if he knows the owner,” she says with an attitude.

“Sherry-,” he groans.

“Sherry was it?” I ask.

“You heard it several times; what are you, slow and stupid?”

“Sherry, shut the fuck up,” Sam begs.

I light another cigarette, the flame illuminating my face. “You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me!” she bellows.

“Actually, I can; you want to know a little secret?”

She throws her hands in the air, “Do something, Sam! He can’t fire me.”

I give Sam a look and nod toward the door. He leaves without argument. I’ll deal with him later and fire his fling who has no respect working in my establishment.

I walk around Sherry, my hands clasped behind my back. “Remember when I told you, if you knew the secret identity of the owner, I’d have to kill you?”

Her spine straightens, and I can see her forehead starting to sweat through her makeup. “Yeah, but you don’t actually know, do you? It’s just a ploy; Sam is just covering for you.”

“You’ll never know.” she shrinks away, her body recognizing the danger before her mind does. “Now get your shit and leave. I was serious when I said you were fired.”

She doesn’t say anything, just stomps out the door, and slams it behind her.

Part of me really wants to kill her, but the need to slice and burn her just isn’t there. I was so close to snapping her neck, but Sam knows who I am. I can’t risk being questioned about her when I’m already being questioned about Tyler.

She ruined my night, and now I don’t even want to watch people get scared. I was already agitated, but now I’m pissed. I punch the wall and let out a guttural roar. All the emotions I’m trying to understand are being ripped through me, as my fist punch holes in the wall. I miss Serena, but she told me to leave her alone. My fists rest above me on the wall, head hanging down, and my breathing ragged. I really need to hear her voice.

I walk back to my car, and my phone is ringing before I can stop myself. She probably won’t answer, but I just need to make sure she’s okay. Just as the phone rings the last time, I hear her sweet voice.

“Hello?” She asks, caution in her tone. Is she nervous I’m calling, or does she not know it’s me? I hope it’s the latter.

“I miss you.”

“A-aster?” she asks hesitantly.

“My little vixen, who else would be missing you?”

“Sorry… I’ve just got a lot going on.”

“You don’t need to explain, it’s okay; did you get your answers?

She’s silent and, for a moment, I think she hung up, but I look at the screen and see the call is still going.

“Vixen?” I ask.

“Yes?” She sniffles.

Fuck, she’s crying; they must not be the answers she was looking for.

“Everything is going to be okay, just take a couple days to process what you found out. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Being ready after remembering something like that is going to take time. I don’t know how long I can wait before I find out where her dad lives and drive to her. The tremor in her voice has me clutching my heart, and I just want to hold her. I know she needs her space. I know she needs this time away with her dad to cope and process, and I’m going to have to let her.

Even if it eats away at the very essence of my being.

“Thank you.”

“Just… don’t take too long. I don’t know how much longer I can go without you.” I light another cigarette. I haven’t smoked in a long time, but all this stress is making me take puff after puff.

That makes her chuckle, my chest finally relaxing. “I’ll be home soon.”

Well, at least I know she can still laugh . “Good; talk soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Good night, little vixen.”

“Good night, Aster.”

The line goes dead, and I drive home to my empty house, regretting not cashing in my birthday present early.