First of all I'd like to thank the reviewers and anyone who "favorited" and followed this story. I actually intended to wrap up the Bleeding Me Home series in this chapter but since so many ideas developed and I didn't want to create too much of a gap between my first update I decided to post part 2 of the story, part 3 will be the finale of this chronicle. Anyhow this chapter was a blast to write and some research went into the writing as well. Reviews are encouraged ;)
Amy Rose in: Bleeding Me Home (pt. 2)
Gazing at her wet feet she stood in the hallway, eventually turning her head to the left and glancing across to view the other side of the interior. The houses lingering muteness caused a little unease in her heart, only the sound of her light breathing had disseminated the calm.
"Phew… R&R at its finest, now to change into something comfy, though I wouldn't mind sleeping naked. But I really don't want to catch a cold and shackled to the bed sniffing like a hound with a mound of snotrags."
She would talk to herself when feeling lonely, it had been months she had been disconnected from a majority of her friends. Although not a recluse, Amy missed some of her old companions, those that she wasn't in touch with, especially her ex-lovers. One of them was Shadow; it was an unlikely relationship that occurred in an unforeseen fashion but continued to bud forth in mutual understanding and harmony. Amy found him to be so mature and intellectually appealing, his stance and aura had bemused her deeply. Likewise for Shadow loneliness had dented his mental composure severely and Amy had been a source of rejuvenation, vitality and love. Albeit the Pink Rose and the Black Orchid also held incongruous beliefs, as much as the contrast attracted them to one another it also repelled them. The lack of commitment from Shadow, Amy's negative blasting of every moment of her relationship on social websites, a melange of all knowing friends, low and high expectations from both parties and the normalcy of giving up on someone led their relationship to an acerbic state until both parties decided to part for the sake of their own sanity and sustenance of their damaged friendship. She sometimes would remember the ups and downs of those days and just reflect in a bitter sweet manner, sometimes she would shed a tear or two when she badly needed to be loved and caressed.
Without further delay she entered back into her room to find it in its not so tidy format. Some of her clothes hung from the computer chair with a backpack resting on it while others were tossed to all four corners of her kingdom. Panties and bra's protruding from underneath her bedside, perfume and bodysprays some neatly placed on the top of her drawer and others drifting in the chaos. Shoes of all sort and kind of dress code sticking out from ajar boxes and some pairs laying idle. Record sleeves scattered around her LP player and a headstock of a bass guitar sticking from underneath her crumpled blanket, something Mina had given to her as a birthday gift and most saliently of all was a Ziploc bag full of cannabis ordered from a friend – Charmy – resting near her bedside lamp from the other day which she had forgotten to stash. Charmy's hyperactive wonderment sometimes led him to be the most daring in trying new activities, however uncanny and audacious they may seem. He would operate in secrecy, planting and cultivating the most "killer weed" and bantering on about how "hydroponics is the best way to grow the ganja". If the Chaotix found him conspicuously baked he would seriously "bee in deep shit" as he would jest to Amy with his continuing puerility.
Although Amy was reluctant at first and deeply alarmed by Charmy's daunting offer, saying she preferred smoking a cigarette once in a while but Charmy rebutted by saying "root is elevator music yo!" She decided to take a puff off a joint after being goaded to a nerve-racking state by the bee. These days she was roped in and would smoke a joint every now & then. Actually, seeing the bag shining like a diamond in the rough she decided to "blaze" in a moment or two as Charmy would say. Amy had gone through a psychological metamorphosis these past few months, she wasn't as malleable as the bygone days and demanded more independence but also questioned ferociously. Not a follower anymore, she was seeking individualism and was really beginning to question political authority. Is it by nature that the stronger have natural authority over the weaker? And is this jurisprudence legitimate as long as it is beneficent for the weak? But even if the weak are allowed to be judges of whether they benefit from authority does this mean this power is legitimate if they accept it? These questions were like a snowball tumbling down a mountain, accumulating in mass as it pushed further and further in her idea box. For once in her life she wanted to retaliate against the law and take a dare.
Eyeing the chaos her lips opened: "If a camel were to live in this room, it surely would've been lost also"
The towel chafed her skin as it dried its soft and glaring surface, collecting any trailing water droplets. Working its way through her underarms and every limb and joint in her body. Tossing the towel aside she decided to liven the lonely mood of the hour. She unlocked her mini safe box and took out a tiny metallic container, it was a silver cigarette case adorned with floral engravings. With a click she unlatched it, opening it symmetrically into two halves. Each side stored one row of marijuana cigars held in place by a leather strap. Thanks to Charmy's tutoring she "wasn't too shabby" as he would say in rolling a blunt. By a miraculous chance she found her Zippo lighter and burnt that blunt to life. Her eyes squinted as she vauntingly inhaled a good amount of it into her lungs, exhaling the smoke as she saw herself in the long mirror leaning against the drawer staring buck naked through the circulating filter of smoke. Looking down while taking a few other tokes she noticed her vinyl collection in a cardboard box.
"No pot is complete with a good tune"
She knelt down ogling through her vinyl collection to look for a record to cheer her up, too many blunders and absurdities had crept in today.
"Ooooh, Al Green, Let's Stay Together. This is the hit for a wandering soul like me"
She pulled the vinyl from its sleeve and placed the needle on the disc. The music vibrated in the air, not to say that it didn't prevent Amy from getting into a slow and sexy dancing mood. With another quick toke and a slow exhale she started gyrating her hips slowly to the laid back rhythm section of the song. Taking light steps amongst the smoke and prancing lightly toward her deodorant spray can. She picked it up and treated it like a microphone, swaying back and forth as she started to sing with the song:
"I, I'm so in love with you
Whatever you want to do is all right with me"
She stretched her arm in the air in a dramatic fashion finally extending it on the counters ledge while eyeing the room sensually and singing to her imaginary crowd.
"Cause you make me feel so brand new
And I want to spend my life with you"
Pushing herself off the counter and performing a twirl she knelt on one knee while singing in to her tin can microphone eyeing the ceiling.
"Let me say that since, baby, since we've been together
Ooh, Loving you forever is what I need"
She sat on her knees taking another smoke while artfully leaning her flexible back parallel to the floor and entangling her arms playfully past her head.
"Oh let me be the one you come running to
I'll never be untrue"
Lying supine, she contracted and released her belly like a belly dancer would and eventually leaned on her side while sultrily running her index finger on the wooden flooring.
"Ooh baby let's, let's stay together
Lovin' you whether, whether
Times are good or bad, happy or sad, alright, oh yeah
Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad"
Sprinting up into the air, she leaned her back against the wall while slowly sliding down in a suggestive manner singing in a begging tone.
"Oh tell me why, why, why, why, why, why
Why people break up, turn around and make up
I can't see, you never, never, never do that to me
You better not do, staying around you is all I
All these eyes will ever see"
Heading toward her leather club chair she sat on top of its back spreading her arms and legs akimbo while slowly gyrating her torso left and right watching her surroundings in a fervent glare.
"Why won't you say that me, everybody says
That let's, let's stay together
Lovin' you whether, whether
Times are good or bad, happy or sad"
She crept down the chair and in a dancing manner she tiptoed her way toward her bed while dodging all her belongings on the floor in and puffing more pot.
"Everybody says, "Let's, let's stay together
I'll keep on lovin' you whether, whether
Times are, oh times are good or times are bad
Whether, whether good or bad, happy or sad
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah"
Tossing the so called "microphone" aside and placing the marijuana cigar on her lips she pulled her blanket aside forcefully and picked up the bass guitar while standing on the mattress and pretending to play along to the chilled groove of the song with a whimsical display of body language and emotion till the song pretty much ended.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
Suddenly she snapped with utter shock and her pupils shrank in an instinctive response, a burning sensation shot through her gut. Someone stood there kneeling against the door jamb, a maelstrom of questions cycled ferociously in her head "Who is this man! What is he doing in my house! How long has he been watching me naked?" In the hurly-burly of shock she was relieved that the bass guitar's big wooden body had covered her privates but her breasts were obvious to the eye of our spectator.
The figure spoke with a deep and throaty tone "Quite a show you've put on here for yourself, sorry I didn't get my tickets and sneaked pass the backstage"
In a sudden flash of hot burning rage "You sick motherfucker! What the fuck are you doing in my house! Answer me this second before I seriously consider acting a fool!"
"Where is your civility? That is not the correct conduct to treat a guest who has set foot on your domicile now is it? With that language nothing is going to be solved young lady" He said nonchalantly.
"You want civility? Civility is that I seriously consider killing you for intruding my house! This is a violation of personal privacy and property you sick fuck! Or you don't seem to get that into your thick noggin you wretched piece of scum!"
"A man who has nothing to lose isn't convinced by your mere words, they are just husks burning mercilessly the moment they escape from your soft lips"
Just what was this apparition? Another homicidal murderer on the loose? Another monstrosity bred by the crime and corruption of the city seeking redemption through rage and slaughter? Someone who has lost his name and identity? All of these questions incinerated her synapses as she sensed fear slowly wash over her.
"I don't give a diddly-shit on where you stand with whatever diseased thoughts you have you dick sucker! I'm going to call the police and send your filthy existence to rot in prison!" Amy spat in vituperation.
Taking two tiny steps and smirking with a hanging head and a hands in his pocket he said "I concur, I'm afraid I feel the same way Amy Rose but a mind can be evil without being abnormal. Also officer Kojak is savoring on his chocolate glazed donut fattening his gluttonous ass, he seriously has no regard for you."
Engulfed in white hot rage, she was even more confused when he stated her name, had she been followed? How long had she been followed? "How do you know my name? Have you been stalking me this whole time you perverted piece of shit!"
"Your naiveté is contemptible, if you think you can spot a homicidal killer you are sadly mistaken my rose. People may sidestep to a rowdy and filthy hobo, they may also prevent face to face confrontations with the mentally challenged but a vigilant person is someone who eyes the well-dressed. Give a killer a suit and tie and he will look like ten other men"
Suit and tie might've been an understatement, the killer was attired in a black colored 80's new wave suit, followed by a big red tie and a pearly white oxford shirt finished by dark wool and polyester pants. The burnt sienna shoes he had on were very formal, chic and smart; you could see them glistening from afar. Finishing it all off were two leather gloves snugly fit into his hands.
His physical structure appeared flexible and nimble resembling that of an acrobat. His chest bowed outward displaying his able-bodied anatomy. He didn't have any big and bulky muscles like body builders, but they were extended to the sides and made his arms look skinny but well-built. The serpent's skin had a tortoise shell texture. Starting from just above his eyes three parabolic spikes increasing in length and width were pointing out from his head as they went further behind his forehead gave him a venomous stature. A thick black eye liner was rimmed around the larger sides of his eyes and his ebon pupil was encircled by a burning deep yellow iris. To Amy all of these features invoked a daunted feeling inside her, he seemed like a formidable and ruthless killer.
"I don't know how many innocent lives you have deceived and taken but the naiveté you speak of certainly does not exist in me. You have chosen the wrong person to fuck with you psychopath"
"Hahahaha, a wonderful taunt but psychopath would be putting it mildly. You have just disproven your surmise, a killer doesn't blindly choose his victims. The victim must have a certain trait that a killer wants to possess and in you I see so much beauty and innocence that I want to possess that seeing you half naked like this makes me tick even more viciously! Yes my timing couldn't have been better!" the specter malevolently hissed as his serpent tongue showed itself.
The girl in front of him was just an image, a desire, not a sentient person but just an objectification. Indeed the psyche of the killer had manifested to see things as objects. Amy was deeply terrified now, this wasn't your average joe crook, he was homicidal and mostly disturbing of all was that he was a sadistic lust murderer. She was pale as a ghost, her fingers had run completely cold and numb and the room felt extremely cold, beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead. She could remember reading things on serial killers on newspapers and how some were of the utmost ultraviolent. Lustmord was identified as a type of killer who had an overt desire to engage in killing triggers involving bizarre sexual fantasies, fantasies that had crystalized in the dark minds of the insane. She had to do something, she just couldn't sit there as a feast to his murderous predator, her condition was palpably bad: phazed out from smoking weed and pretty much standing bare naked against a homicidal predator, she was at a complete disadvantage. She had no choice but to follow her instincts: fight or flight! Well flight was out of the questions since she was cornered so fight seemed like the only modus operandi… to maybe even murder him. That was a frightening train of thought, she had never killed anyone in her life, let alone harm anyone on bad intent but maybe there was blood waiting to be spilt.
She already had a pretty sturdy weapon in her hand, the bass guitar was not light and the hard dense wood could crack open any thick skull yet it was too big and definitely not to be used as a battering ram or baseball bat! It was a musical instrument bought as a birthday present meant to bring joy and pleasure but now it was being used as a bludgeoning instrument, something all too familiar to her. It had already saddened her that she had to smash a birthday present to pieces! She had been following her lessons on a good steady basis and could drop a groovy bassline on a funky drum track. All of this and much more infuriated her so much that she could strangle and maim anything in front of her, how dare he walk just right in and arrogate her life as his, she can't stay silent to such indignation. Her body was trembling now, a cocktail of cortisol and adrenaline was secreting from her adrenal gland. She couldn't break now, she shan't break! Die motherfucker, die motherfucker, die motherfucker… in a psychotic oscillation that was all that was repeating in her head. She suddenly eyed him truculently while unstrapping the instrument:
"They say that blood is one of the toughest stains to remove. I'm going to do you a favor after I kill you, civility states that since you have such a nice suit I will be the one who takes your bloody clothes and hands them to the laundry once I'm through with your existence! I'll have to bloody them up for good to give the best wash possible!" She lunged herself onto the air from the springy mattress and aimed the big and wide body of the instrument against her enemy ready to deliver a heavy blow.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH"
The reptile watched with a rather amazed expression, his victim may not have been such easy prey after all, her feistiness amused him. With a sturdy swing she attacked him but he was no amateur, with alacrity he ducked the deadly blow that could've cost his awareness. Now that he had an opening he butted forth with speed but Amy was agile enough to know she had created an opening. Lying close to her feet were her white high heels she had tossed around after coming back home completely swoozled - and a margin away from peeing her pants - from a party she had attended the other day. Since she had been so good with her feet (chpt. 1 reference!) she kicked the pointy ass shoe toward him so he could be distracted. The shoe collided to his hard chest and bounced off but was enough to distract him in the process and give her time to recollect herself while quickly bouncing back.
"A cheap move! But I'm really starting to like you, I love a woman who can fight! The resistance makes me even more creative with my killing ritual!"
"Aim low, score high!" She spat while the two looked eyeball to eyeball.
The predator quickly took out a military combat knife, enough to pierce one's guts and leave their entrails hanging. "Seeing your naked state wouldn't you agree that it would be a disgrace to render my knife as useless? It would be unfair to leave your skin unfulfilled by the touch of cold steel, leaving it in such a pristine state!"
Amy wasn't surprised, a killer always has a knife but it caused so much fear when she saw the dagger glistening lividly in her adversary's hand. She felt so 'naked' and defenseless, why wasn't there anybody to help? With a swift move the reptile tried to swipe the blade against her bare abdomen
"Don't worry, I won't cut you up with one swipe! My plans require time" He cackled ferociously.
She winced and let out an acute groan, the blade managed to shallowly slice a piece of skin off her abdomen, a current of blood appeared as the quick cut left its insignia. Amy's so called weapon was too much of a disadvantage, it was heavy and too bulky and most of all it wasn't even designed to use as a killing machine. All of this slowed her reaction time, she might've just toss it aside but decided to take one more try just like she would with her former Piko Piko Hammer. If she was to massacre now was the time for the reptiles arms were wide open after the quick sweep of the knife.
"You motherfucker! That cut will be nothing compared to the bludgeoning you are going to receive you vile piece of shit!"
She licked her lips and like a slugger swung that instrument hoping for a home run more like a blood run that is. With a screaming battle cry she yelled:
"Thanks for not buying me a GRAND PIANO Mina!"
The big bulky body collided with the killer's side and offed his balance toward the drawer. The hard rock maple neck snapped off the instrument dangling in the air as it was clumsily held by the strings. A sanguine look suddenly appeared on her face as she realized she had hit him. Unknown to her, in a snap he had recuperated with extreme fury and leaped against Amy pinning her down against the ground, was everything said and done?
"Let's Stay Together" is property of Al Green and Hi Records. It's a really good song by the way, I suggest you guys check it out.
I'd like to thank hours of music by DJ Tarkan for helping me sit my ass down and write this stuff!