Puddlemere, BEATER 2: American Psycho — Bret Easton Ellis; (word) pattern, (object) a torn dress
Media Studies Task 4 - Crime -Criminal Minds - Prompt: Write a Serial Killer!AU
Sapphic September '18 Day 12: First Time
Word Count: 999
Warning: Mention of periods.
we're all mad here
The clock on the bedside table reads 2:48 AM when Ginny wakes up. There's an empty space next to her in the bed, even though Hestia should be there. After all, this is the first time she had stayed for the night in all the three months since they had met in a shady bar she'd decided to go to on a whim.
Ginny had not regretted that decision for a single second.
Before she could think of scenarios as to why Hestia was no longer in her bed, she notices the light creeping through the small space between the bathroom door and the frame which calms her down immediately.
The muffled curse that follows makes her curious enough to investigate. Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake up a bit more, she throws the sheets aside and places her feet on the ground, then she slowly walks over towards the door.
There's a constant, rhythmic sound coming from the other side. It sounds like Hestia is frantically cleaning something. Or, considering the cursing, attempting to do so.
"Ti? Are you okay?"
More cursing follows Ginny's question, before Hestia stops herself. "Oh, Ginny, you're awake." Her voice sounds as if she is carefully avoiding a certain emotion. But which one?
"I am," Ginny confirms. "And so are you."
"That's true."
A beat passes.
"Can I come in?"
It's starting to really worry Ginny. What could she have done in the time since they had gone to bed what two, three hours ago that could lead to such an incredibly panicked noise as a reaction to such a simple question?
She's aware that it's a hot-headed decision, but it's her place and she's worried about her girlfriend, so Ginny breaks down the door.
The first thing she sees when she enters is Hestia frantically trying to hide a somewhat cleaned but still clearly bloodied knife behind her. Her dress is muddy and torn and she is splattered in blood, her dominant left arm more than anything else. The rug she's sitting on has clearly taken in some of the drops, creating a pattern that almost looks like polka dots. Just not quite.
The conclusion is clear. Hestia had killed someone in the time Ginny had been asleep. All signs point to that. The only way it could be any more obvious would be a body lying there on the ground with her.
There are a number of socially acceptable reactions to this discovery — shock, horror, and denial come to mind — but Ginny is fairly sure that she missing every single one of them.
After all, she's pretty sure she's not meant to be delighted. The proper reaction is surely isn't excitement. She should not be attracted more than ever before, but she undeniably is.
Should she be ashamed of this?
Most likely. Heck, almost definitely. That does not mean she is. It probably makes her a horrible person, but Ginny found she does not care. She's not sure if she ever did and she is not about to ask her mother about it.
"Is this the first time you're trying to get blood off something?" Ginny questions instead and Hestia's stance relaxes ever so slightly. "Because you seem to be doing a horrible job at it. Let me show you."
Ginny holds her hand out and Hestia hands it to her, handle first. Her fingerprints are on it now, too. They could almost blame each other if it came to the points, but Ginny does not think it will.
As she shows Hestia how to do it properly — not only for the knife, but for her clothes and the rug, too — Ginny wonders how Hestia has remained unaware of these techniques. "How have you never cleaned blood off anything? Didn't you ever bleed through?"
"The servants took care of that," Hestia responds, flatly. "Which is why I am completely incapable of everything."
"Except murder," Ginny points out.
Hestia laughs dryly. "Yeah, that I can do." Then she sombers up. "I can't believe you are so… calm, about this."
"I'm not calm," Ginny argues, slowly moving her face into a grin, "not for the reasons you'd expect, though."
Hestia snorts. "I kind of figured that when you started helping me get rid of the evidence I brought to your apartment instead of calling the police or something."
"I suppose that would be a pretty big hint," Ginny agrees. "Speaking of evidence, is there more we need to take care of?"
"Well, there might be some drops of blood on the stairs and in the hallway, but I already got rid of the body."
Ginny is utterly dejected, even if it doesn't make any sense. Shouldn't she be relieved that she would not have to deal with that? She probably should be scared by all of this, but she is not. "I just realized that I was looking forward to that part." Considering Hestia had been the one actually doing the killing for reasons Ginny doesn't even care about, she's safe to say that out loud.
"Sorry, I guess?" Hestia shrugs. "I mean, we could always… get more?"
She looks about as confused as Ginny feels. Because for some reason that sounds like a brilliant idea, which Ginny promptly informs Hestia of.
"Thanks," her girlfriend responds. "If I might make another suggestion: how about we do something else once we're done with this. Something vaguely more socially accepted over in your bed." Hestia proposes, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Ohhh, I really like the way you think," Ginny responds enthusiastically, taking Hestia's hand and dragging her to the door. "Come on, let's go and check the hallway for blood, we can take care of my apartment tomorrow, I don't mind."
Their eyes meet. "You're perfect," Hestia says quietly.
"So are you." Ginny gives her girlfriend a kiss. This is not at all how she expected the night to go, but she finds she really does not mind at all.