Okay, just a quick word before you read the story...

I started this story about 2/3 years ago, but like most of my writing I have yet to really start it. I barely got to the second chapter before boredom stepped in and took my mind away. Lack of deadlines does this to me, I have nothing to write for therefore I do not write. Oh woe is me. Anyway, here's the Eiplogue. Try not to vomit too much. Oh, and keep in mind I was about 16 when I wrote this, and haven't edited it since.

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The Vineyard.

Epilogue.

Within the confines of her grimey little room she kept most, if not all, of her belongings; numerous books, movies, music cassette's and CD's and clothes that were perhaps as grimey as the room itself were haphazardly thrown around the condensation stained room. Upon the floor laid a plate, leftovers of some congealed microwave meal that had idly been left by its owner still sat on the round slab of glass. The floor on which the plate sat matched the walls, a faded boring brown that was once the colour of chocolate was now decorated with stains, some of which were less than pleasant. One of these stains was made today, less than an hour ago. It matched a few of the others, but because of how fresh it was the colour was still vibrant against the run down carpet. Even as she lay upon her naked mattress with headphones settled in her ears, the rhythm of electric guitars and drums seeping from tiny speakers, she couldn't help but notice the metallic aroma rising from beside her bed. Only once the disk had repeated a number of times did she remove the headphones and look down beside her. Laying there on the floor, as though it was a discarded rag doll, was the shell of a man. A man that had followed her home and had attempted to crawl through her bedroom window like something out of a horror movie. Unbeknown to him she had anticipated his arrival once she noticed that he was following her and had sat on her bed with a butchers knife in her lap. Sitting there she had peered down at the knife, its innocent chilled metal glinting in the faint light as though it were begging to be used. At first she had felt slightly guilty, uneasy about what she was going to do, but as she saw him open the window and start climbing into her bedroom she knew she wasn't going to let him out of that room alive. The blade first bit into the back of his neck, piercing the bared flesh and delved deep into the precious reds and pinks of his throat, then there was the second hit, then the third, fourth, fifth. His body lay there, limp and glistening red on her floor. She had stabbed him a total of thirty four times in the back of the head, neck and shoulders before she even thought about stopping. Her breath came in gasps as she knelt above his corpse, her tattered jeans soaked through with blood and claret, her fingers ached around the knife's handle but she didn't dare put it down; if his body so much as twitched she was going to butcher him again, for any good that would do. That was over four hours ago, and it was only now that she wondered what the hell she was going to do with the body.

Surprisingly enough she had called him with the line "I need your help". That was definitely enough reason for him to drop everything, especially if it meant he was going to be with her, in her apartment, alone. Of course that wasn't what he was thinking now that he stood in her bedroom, staring down at the man who had fallen by the hands of such a young and desperate girl. The blood had seeped into the carpet and turned it back into the chocolate brown it once was, but that wasn't what he was focused on, not completely. What his attention was mostly on was the brutality of the mans wounds; the knife had most definitely gone into the mans flesh until it hit the hilt, which is why his neck was bruised as well as being one big wound. Another thing that he couldn't even begin to comprehend was the fact that she had so much blood on her, the man obviously hadn't tripped and fallen on some sharp object, and if he had she must've been laying beneath the window holding it. His dark honey brown eyes flicked from the body to her a couple of times before settling on her. Rubbing the back of his neck he cleared his throat lightly, everything seemed to be swimming around him.
"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" Although his voice shook a little he didn't seem too phased by the scene and he was glad that he wasn't portraying the disgust that was flowing around in his head. Her nervous eyes flicked up at him before she hugged her knees even tighter, he was afraid that if she hugged them any harder they'd break and there'd be even more blood to clean up. His eyes travelled over her tension ridden body and he noticed a few things: She was losing weight and sleep, her skin was dirtier and drier than normal and her clothes were tattered beyond repair now. It had only been a matter of a few weeks since he'd last seen her, she couldn't do that much damage in a month could she? He glanced down at the corpse as sort of a reminder; Of course she could, she killed a man in a matter of minutes.

Perching on the bed he kept his distance from her, knowing what she was like, and offered her a look of understanding and sympathy.
"Come on, tell me what happened. I'm getting rid of the body remember?" His voice matched the look, and for some reason any intentions he had about tonight disappeared, if only for now.
Her tired eyes met his and she sighed, her legs straightening out and her arms hugging herself. She resembled a mouse that was caught in a corner by a cat, but it just so happened that this mouse had a bloody knife on her bedside table.
"He followed me home" Her voice came out in almost a whisper, almost but not quite.
Nodding slightly he hoped that she would continue. After a few minutes it became apparent that she wasn't going to.
"Then what? He climbed in your window?"
Her unwashed head bobbed slightly as she nodded, her eyes glazed over as she watched the replay of the nights events in her head. "Yeah, he followed me home and climbed in my window. But I knew he was following me, I saw him staring at me on the way home so I... I prepared myself"
He was nodding now, understandable really. It was obvious that she hadn't hoped she would have to use the knife.
"Okay. I'll get rid of it. You checked him?"
She shook her head, making her greasy hair move from one side to another. Sliding off the bed he carefully stood over the corpse, running his hands tentatively over his clothes and then into his pockets. He extracted a wallet, knife and a gun. All of which he knew she would appreciate. The wallet had over $300 in it and both weapons weren't of bad craftsmanship; he gave it all to her, which obviously surprised her as she accepted them with shaky hands and wide tear filled eyes. He was rewarded with a gentle kiss on the cheek which made him smile and caused a rush of hormones to make their way through his body before he left her to discard of the body. He never came back after that.

(C) to InTheDarkProductions.