Obsession 2

Chapter 3- Escape

"What the hell..." I ask, my words coming out faint and strained. I walk backwards until I'm up against the wall. "What did you do?"

"It's not what it looks like," he explains, his eyes pleading with mine for some understanding that he most definitely won't get.

"You always say that, but I'm starting to think everything is exactly what it looks like," I scowl. "You killed our mother, I hope you know. She's dead because of you!"

For a split second, I see a look of remorse in his eyes. But it's gone in a flash and what's left is the empty, emotionless haze he's been lost in for years now.

"Don't you get it?!" I snap, taking a step forward. "You killed her! You shamed her and the rest of our family! You killed those girls, and who knows if they're the only ones?!"

"You don't understand," he says, getting frustrated. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

"Then why did you?!"

Of course, he offers no sort of explanation. No remorse. No regret. No apologies. And I think that's what hurts the most. He ended two lives; three counting our mother, who would surely still be here if none of this ever happened. The families of Stephanie and Olivia have to somehow watch this trail go on while their daughters' killer gives them nothing- no closure, no explanation for such a violent and senseless act.

"Tell me. Tell me right now. What's going on with you? Why are you doing this?" I ask desperately.

I walk towards him, holding my arms out to embrace him, but just as my hand touches his shoulder, he pushes me away, sending me flying backwards in searing pain.

I groan, sitting up and holding my shoulder. I pull the collar of my shirt down to reveal what looks like a burn. I look up at Sammy in confusion.

Beads of sweat trickle down his neck and forehead, causing his black hair to stick to his skin. He's panting as if he's out of breath, like maybe he's sick or something. Maybe something really is wrong with him?

"How did you do that?" I ask him. "You burned me, how...how did you do it?"

He starts to panic. He looks around, probably getting ready to make an escape, but I need answers. I need to know what caused my brother, the person I admired and adored all my life, to become the person he is now. So I can't let him leave.

Because none of this makes sense to me and I really, really need it to.

"Please...talk to me, Sammy. Tell me what's going on with you," I beg him.

He sinks down to the floor and buries his face in his bloody hands. "You'd never believe me. No one would."

"Try me. I know it has to be something. This...the way you're acting, this isn't you at all. I know something is causing it. Just tell me what. Tell me what I can do to help you."

"You can't help me!" he snaps, jerking his hands away from his face, but leaving behind a bloody hand print on the right side of his face. "No one can help me! I've tried so hard to fight it, and when that didn't work, I even tried to kill myself. But...I can't..."

My heart begins to pound in my chest. I still don't know what's going on with him, but I'm getting a strange feeling all of a sudden; a dark, eerie feeling that I can't quite explain. Sammy's eyes are definitely different. I thought so before, but now that I'm getting a good look at him, I know something has changed. His once golden brown eyes are almost...black...

"At first, I took some pills. When that didn't work, I slashed my wrist. When that still didn't work, I shot myself in the head. My head, Mikey! I can't die! I want to so badly, but I...I can't escape it."

I swallow hard, becoming more and more uneasy about the strange aura that's now filling the room. "Escape what?"

"I don't know!" he cries almost...painfully. "I don't know what's causing this. A parasite? A chemical imbalance? I don't know! All I know is I can't control it. No matter what I do, it never stops, it never goes away. I try to outrun it, but it always finds me."

"Are you saying...you hear voices or something?" I ask, trying to compose myself so I can think through what he's telling me rationally. After all, I'm a pre-med student.

"No, there are no voices. Just...urges. I can't control them," he pants.

"Are you sick?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy to ask such a question. "Look at me! Of course I'm sick! But it's not a sickness that can be cured by medicine or surgery."

"Tell me everything," I say, leaning up against the wall. "From the beginning."

"Why? So you can tell the cops? Use it when you testify against me?"

"Sammy, I had to do what I felt was right. I saw you with that girl...Olivia. You killed her. And I want to believe you didn't mean to, but if you can't talk to me...if you can't tell me what's happened to you, then I can't help."

"Help?" he scoffs. "You can't help me, little brother. Don't waste your time trying."

"I can't just do nothing."

He looks at me, hesitating for a long moment before he sighs heavily. "You're not going to believe a word of this, but just for the sake of finally getting it off my chest...here it goes. The last time we visited mom's family in Kyoto, I started feeling...strange. At first, it was almost like the flu- fever, chills, feeling tired. After a few weeks, the fevers...they started to get worse. And it made me crazy. I had these...urges...strong urges..."

"Urges? To do what?" I ask.

"To mate."

"Mate?" I repeat, not sure if I even heard him right.

He nods. "Wild animal-like urges. I couldn't control them. That's what happened to Stephanie and Olivia."

"What do you mean? Did you...try and mate with them?"

He breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. "I didn't mean to hurt them!"

"You r***d them?" I ask in disbelief.

"No! It just...it became too much. I was...too strong...the fever..."

"What do you mean? Did you...burn them? Like you just did to me?" I ask.

He looks at me and nods, tears streaming down his face. "I didn't know what I was doing! I couldn't stop! I wanted to, but I couldn't stop!"

While he continues to sob, finally showing remorse for the things he's done, I can't help but remember the guy I ran into at the courthouse the other day; the one who said he could help me.

"I started to get these strange...urges...that I couldn't control. I became violent and crazy."

Dammit, I wish I could remember what else he said, but at the time, I pretty much wrote him off as crazy.

Wait...his name...he told me his name...

What the hell was it?

"Even if I get the death penalty, I won't die. They're going to figure out then that something's wrong with me," Sammy cries.

"Maybe you should let them. How else will they believe a story like this unless you prove to them that something is wrong? You just burned my skin," I say, looking down at the now festering wound. "With nothing more than your hand, you burned my skin. I can only imagine what you did to those girls while..."

I force myself to stop talking. If all this is true and something's happened to Sammy to cause him to behave this way, I've got to find proof, otherwise, none of this means a damn thing.

"A guy came to me after I left the courthouse the other day. I can't remember his name now, but...he told me he could help. He said something similar happened to him...something about a cursed sash or belt or something..."

Sammy looks over at me, furrowing his brows. "Cursed?"

I nod slowly, trying to remember anything the guy said. "At the time, I thought he was crazy. But now...everything he said...I think if I can track him down, he could help us. In the meantime, you've got to turn yourself in. It's not safe for you to be out here."

"Please, don't make me go back," he pleads with me. "Lock me in the cellar. Chain me to the wall. Just please...don't send me back there. I don't want to hurt anyone else."

As I study his eyes, I can see the blackness swirling around like a storm cloud. Hints of his golden brown irises peek through, letting me know that some part of my brother is still in there, the part that's begging for help. While he's shown no remorse before now, it's clear that he regrets his actions and didn't mean to hurt anyone. But in order to get to the bottom of this, I have to take extreme measures to make sure he doesn't get away.

"They'll come looking for you here," I tell him. "We've got to hide you somewhere else. Somewhere they'd never think to look."

"The old cabin out at the lake," he suggests. "Where dad used to take us to fish."

I nod, standing and offering him my hand. "Come on. We have to go now."

He looks at my hand and hangs his head. It takes me a while to figure out why he would do that, but then it hits me. He just burned me minutes ago and here I am willingly trying to touch him again.

I drop my hand to my side and Sammy pulls himself up off the floor. "So...is it always like this? Are you always this hot?" I ask him.

"No, not always. Just when...it's coming back..."

"Coming back?" I ask him.

He nods. "The urges."

"The urges to mate, you mean?"

He nods again. "I know all this sounds crazy. But...you haven't seen what's been happening to me. Now that you've gotten a small taste of it, maybe you will believe the rest. If I mate, I get these...abilities...it makes me stronger, faster, invincible. And...I like it. I like feeling that way. Only...once it starts to go away, I'm left with the aftermath of what I've done. And for a while, I feel eaten alive with guilt to the point I want to die. But then the urges come back."

"Is that why you keep escaping? To mate?" I ask.

"Yeah...I guess I could mate with anyone, but I've found that the more desirable my mate is, the stronger these abilities are."

"When you killed Stephanie and Olivia...did you...know what you were doing?"

He swallows hard, nodding slowly. "I did, but...it's like I couldn't control myself. I was too strong, a lot stronger than I realized."

"You didn't...rape them...did you? I mean, did you force yourself on them?" I ask hesitantly.

His face contorts as if he's in pain. "I didn't...I didn't mean to. At first, they wanted it, but after a while, I started to hurt them. They begged me to stop and...I wanted to stop, but I couldn't..."

He starts to break down again, showing the remorse he had once been hiding. "I couldn't stop once I started. Even when I saw what I was doing to them...after the way they screamed for me to stop...I just..."

I take a deep breath, trying to shake the unsettling feelings his words conjure up inside me. I can't do anything to save Stephanie and Olivia now, but I can stop Sammy from attacking someone else. Unless of course, that's why he's here.

"The blood on you...did you attack someone else tonight? Is that why you escaped?" I ask him.

"No. The blood is mine."

I look him over, furrowing my brows. "But I don't see any wounds on you."

"Because I don't have any. They've healed."

"Healed? What do you mean?" I ask.

He spends a few frustrating seconds trying to find the words to explain himself to me, but finally, he grabs a kitchen knife from the counter and without warning, shoves it right into his stomach. He lets a gruttal growl and sinks to his knees in pain. Blood splatters everywhere- on Sammy's face and clothes, all over the white wall behind him and all over the floor.

I start to panic when the bleeding doesn't seem to be stopping. I look around for something to place over the wound to stop him from bleeding out, but Sammy pulls his tattered orange prison suit open and reveals the wound just as it's closing up.

My mouth drops open in surprise. I have no idea what I just saw, but it wasn't normal. Which means everything Sammy has been telling me is true. There really is something causing his behavior.

"I told you...I can't die...I want to...after all I've done, I deserve it. But whatever is wrong with me...it won't let me go..." he cries, falling on his face. "It won't let me escape."