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This is actually a rushed piece sweatdrop Unfortunately, since this is a horror mystery infused with my overly imaginative imagination (omg just shut up now, xion) only chapter 1 will be posted. The rest of the story will end up too graphic for Gaia's TOS. But that's fine biggrin I just want an opinion on how this story is so far.
Thanks for taking your time to read~ heart
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"So, what do you want to do about this?"
Johanna veered her glare away from the Victorian ceiling to her counselor. "Paul," she sternly stated. "You're the shrink. Why the hell am I even paying you to do your job?"
Paul flinched from the retort. All he'd asked was a remedial question meant to have Johanna ignite her own creativity...then again, that was his job. He silently glanced off of his clipboard to Johanna turning over on the couch.
"Would you like to tell me how your day went, then?" Paul quietly requested.
The woman mumbled something incoherent, most likely an insult to him. "Are you stupid?" She half-yelled at Paul as he wrote notes on his pad. "I've told you a million times already."
"Then make it a million and one," Paul instructed.
Johanna instinctively sighed. "Woke up, made some coffee, went to work, ate leftover pizza, came home, went to this appointment." Then she sat up and faced Paul. "Am I done?"
Paul chuckled to himself, reviewing the scrawled out words. "It looks like you aren't as mad when you're yelling at me so---"
"So stop making it sound like we're married," Johanna interjected. As attractive as she was, you gotta face it---"I'm way too tall for you."
The counselor shook his head and chuckled to himself again. "So, as I meant to say, go out and get a stress ball."
Johanna coughed. "What?"
Paul raised an eyebrow. "You squeeze it and it makes a noise."
"That's a damn dog toy," She spat.
Deep down, really deep down, Paul badly wanted to admit that's what he meant. But he couldn't.
"It's never stopped itself from working," he coolly told her.
Knowing that she wasn't going to get the 'stress reliever,' Johanna jumped off of the couch and stormed out of the room. People who were originally spacing out snapped back into place when they noticed the sudden commotion. Grinding her teeth together, she quickly fished her keys out of her pocket and drove off to her apartment.
---
Meet Johanna.
Age 21, five foot 11, quick to tick off, works in a cubicle, and is just enjoying life right now. That was sarcasm in case you haven't noticed.
---
Johanna rolled down her window and let the crisp air blur her troubles. There were no such things as bills, there were no such things as a boss, there was no such thing as Paul. There were only pink bunnies and fluffy sheep.
No, screw that.
There were no such things as pink bunnies and fluffy sheep, either.
"Ah, damn!" She yelled into the open skies. The vibrating sound in her bag was such a nuisance right now, she didn't care who it was calling her. Quickly, however, Johanna flipped open her phone. "Who is this?"
"Jeez, Jo, calm down."
Johanna scoffed at the voice on the other side. Rolling her eyes with a faint smile, she replied, "What do you want, Ashley?"
Even though Johanna couldn't see it, she knew Ashley was smiling too. "I need you to water my flowers this weekend, okay?"
"Why would I do that if you don't even have any flowers in your room?" Johanna questioned.
Ashley was able to ask this favor because she lived in an apartment as well; it turns out, right next to Johanna. They'd discovered this one night when both were exploring their closet. There was a mysterious, gaping hole creating a makeshift passageway between their two rooms. With permission from their warden, Johanna and Ashley worked the next two weeks transforming that garish hole to a door accessible to both of them.
"Would you like to get me some?" Ashley picked slowly at Johanna's patience.
Driving within the speed limit while the highway patrol passed by, Johanna thought it over. "Are you trying to get me into your room so that I would see how messy it is, feel bad and then clean it up myself?"
There was a sarcastic 'pfft' on Ashley's side of the line. "Hah...what made ya think that? I...I just want my greenery more--more green!" She added the last part rushed. "Anyways, I gotta go. Counting on you, Jo!"
Not even a second passed before Ashley hung up, destroying the only chance for Johanna to tell her friend to take care of her own messes.
---
"Where is it?"
Damon sat in the wooden chair as still as an obedient child. A dirty rag cloth was tied over his eyes and his hands were chained behind him. No injuries had been inflicted on him yet. He laughed whole-heartedly. "Only over my dead grave," He spat.
"Tell us!" A gruff voice yelled. Damon had expected the blow of a man to land, but only felt the smaller fist of what he guessed was a woman.
"Tell me first, sir, why you insist on hiding your identities?" The woman clicked her tongue noticing that Damon had just blown her credibility. With a smirk, the man continued. "And what kind interrogators are you? The kind who don't even tell me what they're looking for?"
He coughed out a foul taste of iron; the pain from the punch was finally setting in.
"You can shut up now," The woman said, confirming that she indeed was a woman. There was a gentle sound of a knife being pulled out of its sheath, stifling Damon's breath. The flat of the blade felt cool as she pressed it against his heated face. Turning her wrist at an angle, the woman withdrew the blade, slowly piercing Damon's skin.
Damon could hear a crisp fruit being cut apart, and he only hoped it wasn't a citrus.
Instantly, however, those hopes were crushed when a lemon was forced against Damon's cut. The man screeched, clenching his eyes tighter to sustain the pain. When Damon had stopped crying for help, the gag was removed from his eyes.
Only a dim light hung overhead, swinging back and forth like a cliched horror movie. Damon's bloodshot eyes darted, searching for an exit.
There was one in front of him; a door with fluid light pouring like a stream. Standing between it, however, were two silhouettes. One man with a lemon in hand, a woman with a stained knife.
She strode slowly behind Damon and gingerly held his head. With a quick flick, an ear fell down to the ground. Damon couldn't even scream; he was too traumatized to understand he lost an ear.
"Where are the documents?"
---
Johanna passively threw her bag onto her bed and walked straight to her closet. At least here, no one was going to constantly rant on dog toys.
Opening the worn down door, she was taken aback. She always knew Ashley wasn't the cleanest person in the world, but this was just beyond messy. This was almost a pig sty, if you must. Clothes of all sorts were scattered on the floor, lamps remained on and attracted lonely flies, and a strange odor hung in the air.
Sighing, Johanna snapped on her latex gloves and prepared to clean.
Start with the most important places, she told herself. Although Johanna may hate the world for all its joy and happiness, she found a way to escape the torture by cleaning. Odd though, since cleaning was usually not joyful or happy.
Reasoning out that the two places Ashley would use the most when she did come home were the kitchen and her bedroom, Johanna decided to trail her sanitation to the latter. That foul stench was stronger here. With piqued interest, Johanna started rummaging through the drawers. Her anxiety grew as each drawer came up with nothing conspicuous.
Then, as if the choirs of angels above her head were singing, her attention was drawn to the last drawer. True enough, the stench was strongest here.
Johanna slowly opened it. First she saw a meat tenderizer, then a soup strainer; finding kitchen utensils in a bedroom was the only weird thing so far. Then she saw the knives.
Each was red with blood.
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