Blood on my hands

Timelined fics featuring our current students and others.

Blood on my hands

Postby JackSkulls » Mon May 18, 2015 7:51 pm

Chris woke up completely drenched in sweat, he'd had another nightmare. They were becoming more and more frequent and more and more vivid. It was starting to feel like someone was specifically torturing him instead of his sub-conscious trying to punish him for his actions. As always he was forced to watch and hear the screams of the families that his monstrous self had mutilated when he was in Alaska. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop the beast, he couldn't warn the people all he could do was watch as the life drained from their faces and the monster covered the houses in their blood. The thing that always bothered Chris the most was the attention it paid to the children. They were so weak and helpless, it would just toy with them until there was no more point and finally snuff out their lives.

Every time he had one of these dreams Chris would wake up once the monster was done with one home and started to move on. He could feel the victims blood on his hands when he woke up. Still hear their screams in the back of his mind. This time he was even more off put. Chris was in his trailer, he hadn't slept their since Bobby had deposited his drunken body there to sleep off the alcohol. It had too many memories that still hurt and he just wanted to put the past in the past. A cold realization started to come to the forefront of his mind, the sweat that usually had dried and left him feeling like he needed a shower hadn't dried yet.

He rushed into the bathroom, the light coming on as soon as the motion sensor caught his movement. All the heat in his body froze as soon as he saw the mirror, he was covered in blood. It wasn't his own, even with his healing factor, not this much fresh blood, he would still have an open wound. In a daze his feet carried him into the shower, all his clothes still on and he turned the hot water on as high as he could, the water mixing with the blood and pouring down his body. He tried to frantically wash all of it off but he couldn't get it off his hands, no matter how hard he scrubbed, no matter how much soap he used his fingers were still coated in blood, for a second he swore to himself that they were the black claws of his monstrous self again.

Hours passed and the water pressure started to dwindle, all the heat already completely gone. He pulled himself out of the shower and removed his wet clothes to change. He had to figure out what was going on, had to go tell Carol to lock him back up. Something was wrong with him and he was terrified that he had injured more people. How, how could this have happened. He kept asking himself that as he slipped into some dry clothes and started back to the bed. Chris feet stopped dead. He couldn't move, if he got closer to the bed he would be able to see who was in it. Someone had been there with him, it wasn't their blood covering him it was theirs.

The time ticked on, all he could hear was his own heart beat and the clock, fighting against the silence urging him to go see who it was. He knew who it was though, the only person it could be. He could tell from here, it was her hair, the body was the same size as her. It was Kat.... it had to be his girlfriend. Chris pulled back the blanket, revealing a completely mangled body the light of the rising sun showing just how much blood there was. The whole bed was red. All he could do was stare in horror as he took in her grievous wounds.

As soon as it started to sink in that he had killed his girlfriend, Chris snapped away. This time it was real, he was in his office he'd tossed and turned so much that he was on the floor and his cot was almost completely undone and kicked away from him. He was cold and completely drenched in sweat, this time it actually was. He hadn't been asleep very long, but there was no chance he'd be going back to bed that night. Carefully he righted everything he'd attacked in his sleep and got up to go make himself coffee mentally preparing himself for a long night.
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