Unmovable

I love the wait. Jack thought to himself, as he stood still with bated breath, listening to the song of the creaking floorboards. The darkness surrounded him like a blanket, warm and reassuring.

Her sheer size and weight made the floor ache and scream in pain as she wandered around in the kitchen. Probably wanting to make herself another snack. What is it? The third one today? No, this hour? The basement was musty and had the stench of neglect. A faint constant dripping kept ringing off the walls, like the beating of a wet heart.

Poor dear probably has not been down here in years. Probably wouldn’t be able to get back up the stairs...well, until the coroner and some strong men dragged her back up. Jack thought to himself as he smirked at the thought.

Suddenly, the footsteps grew louder to the point they were pounding on the floor.

“I’m not selling my house!” Sheryl Lindsky screamed “No now you listen to me! I’m not moving and that’s the end of it. You take your filthy money and leave me alone.”

Ah, she must be on the phone from someone from the company. Thought Jack. Well, I guess they should try one more time before she dies in her sleep tonight. Dreaming is so dangerous for some people. Jack giggled at the demented scene playing out in his mind. He could imagine waiting till she was asleep, creeping upstairs into her bedroom. He could see her on the CPAP machine forcing air into her, eyes closed. The light would be dim from the full moon sprinkling silver light from the window adjacent to her bed, almost till he could see his shadow move as if it were independent of him and had a mind of its own. He would slither on top of her, turn off the machine, then put a pillow over her face. She would then wake-up, and in a frenzy try to push him off. But the panic would use up any breath she had left. He would then watch as the light faded from her eyes, before he would carelessly saunter out of the house in the dead of night. Keeping the scene in his mind like a movie reel on repeat, playing it over and over again.

The stomping stopped… silence began. Silence had a presence all on its own. An abject stillness between the movements of the world. Then the steady dripping set in. Jack could feel his own heart match up with the slow cadence of the drip, as he waited for the night to come.

***

Sheryl had just finished her dinner. Loaded potatoes, a buttered baggett, several discounted steaks from the local grocery, dirty rice, and to top it all off - a big bowel of ice crème with hot chocolate syrup. All her favorites. It should have made her feel better. Not so empty. It had always done the job in the past. However it didn’t do that today. It only hurt her, making her feel all alone. Empty. Just like the dishes and discarded packages she had left behind.

I can’t leave here. There is no way I’m leaving. Daddy left me the house and I can’t just abandon it. He built this house for us. Sheryl thought to herself as she prepared for bed.

While brushing her teeth in the mirror she suddenly stopped. Frozen by the feeling of melancholy. Depersonalization. The knowing that you exist, coupled with a feeling of tingling numbness rising up. It consumed her.

Sheryl shook her head and came out of it. She finished brushing her teeth, set about hooking up the CPAP machine and laid down for bed. She closed her eyes hoping sleep would find her. The thoughts of her father, Karl Lindsky, filled her mind. A single-father after her dear mother died during child birth. He was a kind, gentle, mountain of a man. He taught her everything from cooking, to driving, to doing taxes. When you were in a room with Karl, you could feel the warmth and love he radiated. She missed him dearly, and couldn’t let go of the house he made for the both of them.

As Sheryl fought back the tears while refusing to open her eyes to admit she was still not asleep. As several hours past; Jack stood in the bedroom doorway. It was well past one in the morning. A time where the other people he had dealt with were usually in delta or deep sleep. The best time to kill.

Jack crept up to the bed. Silent. Allowing the air to move past him, as not to disturb a thing. He was living out his fantasy. The one he had been playing over and over in his mind for hours, only becoming more thrilling, more satisfying, more sinister each time he added a small detail here or a nuance there. He changed his plans from smothering her with a pillow to taking the CPAP off and kissing her while he chokes her to death.

Jack came up on the bed. Gentle. Light. Only indenting the bed, ever so slightly. Soon his gangly but sinew strewn arms where side by side, with Sheryl’s head in between them. He stared down at her, holding his own breath. So as not to wake her. And so that he could steal her breath away. Jack lifted his right arm, and carefully removed the mask, one strap at a time. Now he stared down at her bare face. With her eyes closed, the silver light pouring in from the window fell on her round features, and her hair laying tenderly on the pillow; she looked like a sleeping angel.

***

Sheryl opened her eyes. At first glance she could not register a person was looming over her, or why he would be smiling down at her. But once she looked into his wide and crazed eyes she knew what he was here for. Sheryl could suddenly feel both of his hands latch themselves to her neck and squeeze. They grew tighter and tighter as he eyes became wider with frightening excitement.

Sheryl put her arms up, over her head, and swung herself to the side with all of her might. She rolled right off the bed knocking Jack off of her. He scrambled on the bed, having the wind knocked out of him. He pulled himself to the edge to see what Sheryl was doing.

Sheryl landed on her side, sending a shooting pain through her body, originating from her left shoulder. She tried to get up, but the muscles hurt already and she felt she was getting dizzy.

J ack stood on the bed, ready on pounce on her and have her fall back to the floor so he could finish her. I’ll make it look like a break in. He thought to himself. As he was just about to jump, a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled hard. He, almost comically, fell down onto the bed with is back.

Sheryl was on her knee’s at this point. She knew she bought some time with the man falling, and that she may stand a chance if she just got up. A shuddering pain echoed through her body as she put her full weight on her already strained knees.

Jack flung his legs around the bed and sprung to the other side. He reached for the knife he kept in his strapped to his belt, in-case the suffication did not work. He always had a plan B. As he unsheathed the knife, it shined an eerie glow in the dim moonlight.

A light flickered in Sheryl’s eye and she implicitly knew what it was. A knife. At that moment something awoke in her. She no longer felt the pain in her shoulder or the unbearable pressure in her knees. She stood up.

Jack came slowly around the bed to face her. His eyes never leaving hers. Locked in a standoff. She was nearly three times his size, but he had agility, he could move quicker. He also had the knife. One stroke in the right place could kill her. Her neck, inner thigh, a hard jab to the chest. A smile formed on his face once more.

“GET OUT!” Sheryl screamed at him. The sound became more than a scream, it became a physical presence as it reverberated from the walls and surround Jack. Shaking him. Sheryl lunged forward and swung her arm. It sent out a sound as it whirled threw the air straight for Jack’s head.

Jack ducked, barely missing her arm as it swung narrowly passed his hair. He then flung himself upward, into Sheryl’s mid-section. Aiming for her inner thigh. She had them spread apart for balance, but left them vulnerable.

Sheryl realized he ducked at the last moment, but could not stop her arm from going, and twisting her body. She used this to her advantage as she then lifted her leg, hard. And brought it squarely into Jack’s body. She felt a sting in her thigh and some sort of rattle on the floor beneath her. Like metal hitting the floor.

The knife flew out of his hand, as Jack scratched the surface of her legs, seeing black liquid barely pour from the wound. He was flung across the room, as her leg came into him. It did not feel like a sharp hit, but a heavy and forceful push as he slid away.

“GET OUT!” she screamed again. Jack tried to shake the daze from being thrown across the room and then realized he didn’t have the knife anymore. A grimace of disgust washed over his face as the silence of the night fell upon him. Only her heaving breathing, his beating heart, and something else.

Sirens. Sheryl could hear sirens coming. Her shouting must have alarmed someone. Looks like not everyone had left the neighborhood. She saw Jack’s already bug eyes come out even further.

“No.” he whispered to himself. He instantly bolted out of the bedroom to the front door. Sheryl did not even try to give chase. She knew she wouldn’t be able to catch him.

Jack reached the door. Flung it open. And gave a quick glance back at Sheryl.

Is he smiling at me? She thought to herself queerly. Yes. Yes, indeed he was. And in the next instant, he was gone.

Sheryl sat down on her bed and awaited the police. They might catch him. She thought. If they do or not, I’m not moving. Sheryl stared out into the night, now flooded with red and blue flashing lights. I’m never moving.