It felt like an eternity when I woke up and laid there. I was off today, and I haven't murdered anyone in a while. I need to keep my public image out of my typical day-to-day life. The ideal of The Deadman is a legend, an animal, something like a hunter hunting his prey. I haven't looked online under the usual tags of the name deadman to see what the world thinks of me. I take my time to fall lost in my ocean of self-righteousness. I scroll through my phone, looking to hear what the world thinks of my newest light show. There are always those who doubt me, those who laugh at my sacrifice. They don't know the truth; they don't see the refinement. I bring these terrible generals of the devils to their demise. I sacrifice sanity, emotions, and my life to bring justice to the world. In a world fed on murders fed on the death of righteous men who die fighting for a man they never met, in wars along with the murders of innocents, how am I the one on the wrong side of society? These thoughts deepen as I look through the comments, seeing multiple videos of people choosing sides. Some say I'm a hero; others say I'm a kid on a rampage. Precisely one man, an older man, desecrates my image. He makes videos and snippets of him saying things about me I'd never thought I'd hear. In one video, he says I'm a menace, a murderer on the run. In another, he says, how have the police not found me? How have they not caught me yet? In his latest video detailing and showing pictures of my recent murder, he goes in. I send the video to my tv, display it on the big screen, and lean in. It starts with him walking around his desk. His camera is outspan and the highest quality I've seen. Very different from his other, that means he's making money off the videos, these rants—this temper tantrum from an older man lost in time, a relic. He sits down in his chair and crosses his fingers. His facial structure seemed different from the other videos. I've only seen him angry, but this look of misfortune sends daggers in my soul. His lips were parched and cracked, chapped from smacking too many times. He speaks,
" I didn't think this through when I first started; I was younger back then if only a couple of years ago. I first saw The Deadman when he was young. Naive and foolish like a child. To think he would have a fanbase big enough to send empty, idle death threats to me. To send letters telling me to end my stuff or there will be consequences, I STILL STAND TALL. "
Sweat beams down his forehead, the following words he's thought about for a long time.
" To think a man can grow to such fame, that they can increase so significant that oppositions to his mindset will be slain, remarkable. I sat here and thought if we ever did capture him, this man would most likely breakout. Another Lady Killer, another murder, will be freed. So I've taken it into my own hands. I will hunt the hunter. I will catch this man and record me ending his life. If anyone stands with him, I shall end them also. My new team consists of only me; I name us. The chasers!"
I turn off my computer and laugh to myself—enough childish games. The world will start to derange itself further if older men sprint to catch someone like me. The entire thing was unbelievable to me, and it sent chuckles into my spine. I look onto my phone to see the latest news before running out today. I've got a lady to catch. The News is boring as usual, no new killings from murders. Perhaps they fear being my best target which means I'm doing a good job. The latest news run across the screen in tiny letters. It states there has been death but not a murder, a suicide. Someone has committed suicide by jumping out of an office building and landing on someone's car. There aren't any further details, but the only bit of evidence related is that he killed himself due to pressure from rejections. The office building looks similar to the one I work for. I read more and more as the words jump on the screen. It entices me, and I learn more and more from who this man was. They haven't said his name, and as they continue, I wait for it. I search for it cheerfully. I sense it coming, and I'm glued to the tv, screeching for his name. As soon as one letter pops up, my doorbell rings, and I jump out of my skin. I shouldn't have visitors at this hour. Let alone any friends. I scoff. Maybe he caught me in the act—that old man. I walk towards the door, and it hits me like a wave. Inches from the door handle, I smell it—the fragrance of her perfume. Her silky smooth skin radiates through this door. I can sense her aura as it leaks past the crevices in the walls. I shake in my skin. The cloth on my body can't hold me from her. I smell her even with steel door frames and what feels like light-years apart. She stands centimeters from me. How did she find me? How did she get here? Did she follow me and chase me? Fear runs through me for eternity and only breaks my silence when the doorbell rings again. I open the door, and she stands there, lost in thought. My heart freezes, turns to ice, then shatters to pebbles. It crumbles, rebuilds itself, and puts itself on display for her. She most likely can tell I'm a pet to her. She has me in the palm of her hand—a puppy, running like a lapdog. I've barely taken notice of her image. She stands shorter than me by a couple of inches. Which only makes her closer to my heart. Her hair seems to grab my attention first. It folds downward and hangs over her face covering most of her freckles. The golden gaze shines in the sunlight, reflecting off and charging into my heart stuns me entirely. My legs weaken as I look at what she's wearing. The girl of my dreams wears a black silk crop top with a skirt so short a simple fall would reveal the world. Stockings cast down her legs to a pair of black boots. It doesn't take long for me to fall victim to her eyes. I can see the ocean. I can see the sea of waves that crash against a beach. I'm lost a sea, a pirate stranded on a boat, a king who will be offered to the sea goddess herself. I've lost this battle of looks, for I look like a mess compared to her. I now know why men lost at sea gave in to sirens. Her gaze alone could capture a thousand men. Her face is the softest thing I've ever witnessed. Her cheekbones could carve mountains, her freckles like dots drawn on a map. Again for the second time, her voice breaks me from this trance. I feel like if she never spoke, I would never be attainable to this world again.
" Hey, I told you I'd find you."
she walks forward, insinuating me to let her in. I free her pathway for entry and speak,
" How did you find me?"
" I have my ways; now let's go out and do something. What happened there?"
She points to the broken vase. I had forgotten about that completely. In my rage from before, I broke a vase and never cleaned it up. I look at the vase then back at her. I've got to come up with some excuse quickly.
"Accidentally knocked it over, and an unexpected visitor forced me not to get to it."
That excuse seems to have worked as she scoffs and lays on my couch. She's relaxed. She looks all too comfortable lounging on something that's not hers. You couldn't tell the difference between her and me if you didn't look hard enough. She thinks she owns this place.
" Tell me, what do we plan to do? I didn't look for you for no reason."
My face changes as I think. She seems the type to enjoy staying in and some snacks. Hell, she probably only said something out of formality
"We could go get some snacks and watch a movie."
"Hell yeah, that sounds awesome! I'll pick the movie since I'm today's guest of honor. Next time ill let you choose."
She seems so cool, so calm. Like she's done this a million times. Her movements are practically perfect in every way as she stands up from the couch and stretches—her smooth stomach arches and bends as she raises her hands into the air.
"Let's get moving, times a wasting."
She speaks like a captain commanding a ship, and off we go, downstairs into my car and off to the store. We share a conversation about the local world, and I learn so much from her. Perhaps I want to learn from her, and that makes me only lean into every word she says even more. The drive there was fantastic as she kept me on the edge of my seat, learning and praying for more. She taught me of her character. I drew lines to her childhood and how it shaped her as a person. Never oversharing but never left me alone to speak. It was mostly me listening, and it turned me on even more, not sexually but emotionally. To be able to connect like this is spectacular. She's the type of person to challenge social norms and make her version of the world. Her name is K'Layah, and she comes from a list of drunkards in her family. Her father beat her mother, but she never let that stop her from shining on. Through sheer determination and seeing his daughter succeed, it forced a weight on him to turn himself around, and he did. Unfortunately, he passed away shortly after his redemption. Yet she holds him closer to her heart because of that. She doesn't seem too bummed about it saying everyone has their world to live in.
"His wasn't this one."
That took me off guard, but I glossed over it. Everyone has their quirks and kinks. That was just hers. We arrive at the store and raid the snack section. We took candy and chips alike, stuffing the carts to the brim. At the counter, we went half and half, solidifying our relations as a team rather than some 1960's relationship where the man pays for everything. When I said that, she laughed and looked into my eyes. It seems in this moment I may have her trapped by my gaze. We rode back and spent our time lowering the temperature and wrapping ourselves in covers. So close that we could become one yet so far that we stand miles away. Two very distinct people spending time as one with no social framework. The movie choice was a war between rivals, though I let her win as she is the guest of honor. Suppose you could stand back and watch us. You'd think we'd been married for years if you stopped and looked around. You'd realized I was a man stuck in love, and she fell for me too. We did childish things to bring the kid in us out during the movie. We built a fort; we reenacted the scene in the film—a demanding pirate craving treasure for the return of the queen—a ransom of sorts. I am taking part as the king who seeks his queen (a pillow) from these daring pirates' hands. She stands broom in hand. In sync with the movie, she speaks.
"If ye want your queen back, I want triple in gold and silver than what I asked."
I lean forward, tipping my crown baiting the pirate in.
"I'd give my entire kingdom just for my beloved back."
K'Layah jumps forward, throwing my queen to the ground.
"I was waiting for an opening. This is an assassination on you, dear king."
A perfect opening I got. As soon as her sword came close, I revealed my secret weapon. A GUN! I flipped the gun (remote) around and flicked three shots out at the pirate. The scene in the movie goes forward in sync with me. The pirate recoils, being shot twice in the shoulder, and kneels. The music turns heroic as the bleeding raider looks into the sunset and smiles upon a grateful universe—a tear shedding from the actor's eyes. K'Layah, not being able to cry on command, sits there as I grab the remote. And come closer. As the remote touches her forehead, the actor speaks for me in volume.
"Today, a hero dies for betrayal is the biggest misfortune in our day in age. One day a friend the next day, an enemy to the state, I refuse to bury an alien that won't be remembered, so I shall remind the world of your great sacrifice. Goodbye, my beloved friend."
The gunshot rings out as K'layah falls with the pirate that revealing it was a female pirate the whole time. The movie pans off as the narrator speaks, telling us of the king's misfortune as he killed his lover. Then the movie ends. K'layah jumps up and tackles me, excited that we could share a movie. Not as friends but as children reliving their days. I fall over on the couch as she lays on top of me and changes the film. Her warmth holds me together as I look into her skin again. Her voice echoes in my mind, but I don't listen; I agree.
"Can I spend the tonight?"
"Sure,"
She sniffs me slowly, edging closer. It takes me a second to control myself and not ruin the moment.
"Ew, you've got the disease!!! Take a shower."
"Oh no, the deadly disease, I'll be back."
I say jokingly, I haven't taken a shower today, so this is needed. In the shower, my mind lingers on thoughts like it always does. It's only been a day, but I've found the love of my life. Or at least I think so. She's in there alone
My privacy surrounds her. She could be looking for my identity. She could be stealing from me. But I feel safe around her. I return from the shower, and she's sitting in the same spot I left her and flicking the channels.
"Ya miss me."
I say coy.
"Of course I did."
We return to wrapping within the covers with slight shivers from me due to the shower. K'layah lays into my chest and increases my heart rate. I've never experienced intimacy on this level where I connect with someone emotionally to the point of pure pleasure. I love this feeling, and I hope it never leaves. We continue to talk as we find some cartoons to watch. She understands the kid in me lives strong, and she accepts that. She even has her own childish side, and the kids in us relate like we were at birth. She begins talking on and on about how much she loved this moment how she never wants to leave this moment. She begins to drift off first, and the rhythm of my heart finally starts to slow down. I rest and relax, tipping deeply into unconsciousness. The only noise is the tv playing in the background as two lovers fall asleep.