Notes: Well, all good things come to an end. Next issue will contain the last chapter and the prologue. Thanks to yayme for b-reading this. Enjoy (and please review).
The Undeniable Truth
"Are you a coward, Timothy?"
"Why don't we find that out…"
If this goes wrong, if I lose this "game"…
Timothy approached Dexter and kneeled before him. With a smirk he tilted his head and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Sweet dreams, Dex."
Timothy's fist hit Dexter, knocking him unconscious.
--
"The person you're trying to reach is not available at the moment, Please leave your message after the…"
"Dexter, where the fuck are you? I know it's your day off, but for Jesus fucking sake, call me back. Dammit."
"Still no answer, Deb?"
"No. It's odd, Angel. His boat is at the marine. Rita hasn't heard from him..."
"Come on, Deb. You're overreacting. He's a grown man. He knows how to take care of himself."
"Yeah, I know. He's also an asshole that doesn't pick up his cell."
--
Dexter couldn't say precisely how many hours had passed. Suddenly an intense bright light hurt his eyes. He tried to shut them tightly to block out the light, but after a few seconds the pain became too strong. He had to move.
With great effort he moved one leg after the other. Before opening his eyes, he heard the sound of glass hitting concrete.
It was broad daylight outside - maybe noon – and the sun was shining bright.
It was hot; the air felt heavy.
Dexter could feel sweat running down his spine, his forehead, everywhere.
And he had just knocked down the only water he had - a single glass of water left by his side.
Fuck.
Timothy had handcuffed his left hand to a metal tube attached to the wall. That hand was the only thing prohibited him from moving freely and getting out of the shed. Still, it was a great obstacle.
It's not like breaking it is a real option. It would hurt like hell and there's no guarantee I'd actually be able to free myself.
Dexter looked around.
This is one crappy shed. My tools are lying around over that table. If only I could reach them. I could get rid of the fucking handcuff and find my way out. Then it would be a matter of ambushing that guy and finishing what I started.
Dammit, Dexter, when will you learn?
Dexter had been left alone - his thirst growing, intensifying as the water spilled on the ground slowly evaporated.
I'm growing weak. All my muscles are stiff. I have to get out, I must get out. Before he loses his fear, before I do become weaker than him.
Lost in his thoughts, Dexter drifted into a dreamless sleep soon enough.
--
Hours went by. And then the loud noise of metal hitting metal: Timothy was back.
With difficulty Dexter opened his eyes in time to see Timothy dropping some heavy package on the table. A body bag – and it wasn't empty. Dexter glanced at the rapist quizzically while Timothy smirked maliciously.
"Welcome back to the living, Dex. I brought you company. You're just going to love this."
Dexter rubbed his wrists. He was feeling both tired and distressed. But the voice was back, and the voice told him that he mustn't allow his enemy to know just how worn out he was actually feeling.
As long as I'm defying, even if it's just through words, I'll be safe. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm afraid of this Timothy guy – but crazy people are unpredictable.
If I keep my cool, it'll provide me time to think – to find an opportunity to strike back.
"Forgive me the lack of a standing ovation."
Timothy's smirk widened. "Tsk, tsk. You wouldn't be that sarcastic if you knew who I brought back with me."
"Oh? I should get up; maybe give you a big hug? It's the human thing to do, eh?" Dexter leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. "I'm not impressed."
Timothy crossed his arms nonchalantly. "Too bad you're not interested. I'm sure you're the one person who she would wish to spend her last moments with."
Dexter opened his eyes and looked deeply into the other man's; a dreadful thought forming in his mind.
Not Deb – she wouldn't fall for it, not after Bri- Rudy.
Rita, then?
Timothy watched the serial killer carefully. What he saw in his face, that little vein in the other man's forehead betrayed his thoughts. Unclear. Timothy laughed. "Good. I got your attention once again. Let's end this sorrowful attempt of outwitting me, shall we? You're in no position to do that."
"Okay. What exactly is it you want from me, Timothy? You've got me, you have the upper hand, so now what? Are you going to kill me?"
Timothy pulled a chair and sat down, resting his arms over the chair's back. "That isn't in my plans. Well, this wasn't either, but since we're here..." The man rested his head over his arms and held Dexter's gaze. "I want you to watch."
Fuck. He sounds a lot more confident now, setting some distance between us made him feel better.
Dexter glanced at the body bag. It seemed... too still. He noticed blood dripping from the bag, forming a small crimson pool on the concrete. It was too large a quantity – whoever was inside the bag was long gone. Nothing he could do to save whoever the bag contained. Dexter's every muscle tightened. He was chained – defeated.
"Why? I won't be disgusted or scared. Where's the thrill?"
"You chased me, and yet I got away. I caught you, and now you'll see your prey perform his own sadistic ritual.
"When we spoke before, I realised that killing you wouldn't add to anything: I wouldn't be satisfied and you wouldn't give me the pleasure of begging to be spared.
"The truth is, Dexter, you're not human, you don't feel a thing, do you? So how can I win against such a monster?" Timothy smiled. "You're not immune to humiliation. You have to win, to fulfil your purpose. I'll take it all from you – and then even someone like you will lose.
"I won't brag about it, but you and I both know, the moment I leave this room it'll never be the same.
"So? How do you like my plan? I'll be gone from your life, but I'll leave you a memory for all eternity."
It was unnoticeable to Timothy, but his words had more than the desired effect. Something snapped.
An evil coldness filled Dexter's mind. Timothy was right – he had to win, to fulfil his "purpose". He had no feelings, but he knew one thing - his undeniable truth. He was better, stronger. And Timothy was small game. He would kill Timothy before the night began.
One thought repossessed his entire being: kill, kill, kill. It was his instinct kicking in – not revenge, sorrow, or fear, but who he was, was taking control again. And now...
Calm, cool.
Everything can wait but this. I'm a man with a mission. I'll kill this son of a bitch today.
Timothy threw a water bottle in Dexter's direction. "Here, I don't want you to die of thirst."
Dexter clumsily grabbed the bottle with his free hand. Bringing his free hand towards the handcuffed one, he opened the bottle and then lifted it as high as the handcuff allowed it. After taking a big sip, he stopped and looked towards Timothy.
"Now, if you could just took this handcuff off, we could get down to business. Is it really so fair to toy with me while I'm handicapped?"
Timothy smirked. "You're all set..."
Dexter returned the smirk with an innocent smile. "Not quite. Excuse me, but nature is calling. Under the Geneva Convention, all prisoners are entitled to have their human rights preserved, right?"
Timothy tilted his head, imitating a laugh. "Funny."
"Seriously, I need to do it. Want me to do it right here on the spot?" asked Dexter.
It was at that moment that they heard something heavy hitting the glass window above Dexter. He barely had time to cover his face before shards of glass covered his back and the floor around him.
Timothy grabbed a gun he had concealed under his shirt. "What the fuck?"
Dexter shook himself to get rid of the glass, not before some of them scratched his back, leaving trails of blood. "You're really clever. Someone followed you, you moron."
Timothy pressed the gun's safety. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, motherfucker."
Shit. Being saved might be good, but the Bay Harbor Butcher's tools are covering the damn table. And being found in the same room with them wouldn't be good.
Plus, I want to kill this bastard myself.
Timothy covered the small distance that separated him from the door. Carefully, he opened it.
There was no one in sight. But there was definitely someone close by. While the rapist took a peek through the half opened door, Dexter felt someone metallic and light fall on his legs.
What?
Dexter grabbed the piece of metal with his free hand; it was twisted and it could serve as... a lock pick.
Timothy wasn't looking. Dexter simply inserted the piece of metal in the handcuffs lock and started working on it.
Timothy glanced up. He saw movement from the shed's corner. Looking towards Dexter, he made a quick decision. He ran outside and chased after the intruder.
Dexter had just opened the handcuff when he heard three gunshots. There wasn't any time to waste. Even though his legs felt stiff, he had to run and hope he would make it to the safety of the trees before it was too late. Now that he had been discovered, Timothy wouldn't hesitate to kill him. And Dexter couldn't simply leave.
He grabbed a piece of wire from the table, as steps were heard close to the door. Without hesitation, Dexter jumped through the window and started running. He didn't stop even when he penetrated the safety of the trees.
He circled around and finally settled down, resting his back against a tree. If he looked over his shoulder he could see the shed's door at a distance.
I made it.
Dexter watched as the rapist reentered the shed. His clothes were stained. Soon the man would notice and then he'd come outside and start searching.
The sun was going down fast.
"Hey. It was just a hunter, for whatever reason he threw that rock, but..." Timothy noticed Dexter's departure. "...he's gone now. Fuck! You son of a bitch!! How did he manage to escape?! How the hell did he get free?!".
Timothy looked around desperately. It was only a one-room shed – Dexter had clearly left.
One thing was for sure – he had to find the bastard, and find him fast. He knew the serial killer wouldn't simply go away. He wouldn't rest until he had finished – finished him.
The time to play was long gone – only one of them could remain alive.
Timothy had to find Dexter and kill him before the last rays of sun died away.
"Dexter!"