Page 3 of Psycho Killers

Killian and I exchanged knowing smiles throughout the evening. The unspoken understanding between us was a tangible thing, a warmth that spread through the room, subtly altering the dynamic of our usual camaraderie. There was a new layer of intimacy, a comfortable familiarity that transcended the awkwardness of our little experiment.

The mess, the unexpectedness, the sheer absurdity of it all—it was all part of its charm. It wasn't romantic in the traditional sense, but it was undeniably real, raw, and intensely us. We didn't do romance. We never even knew what the title entailed. The Pop Rocks, once a symbol of boredom, had become a bizarre, unforgettable emblem of our connection. another checkmark on the neverending mental list of things to try before I die. Killian and I found ourselves seeking out more of those small, quiet moments, the unspoken communication passing between us like a secret language, which left us both tired and mentally exhausted by the time we left the building to head home.

I tried Ash again, getting no response, and that feeling of unease crept right back up. I could tell something was definitely wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. My anxiety crippled me the entire drive back to the apartment; Killian's father not even a worry in my mind anymore.

The one good thing was that I had heard from Dominic, and he was excited to tell me that he finally got his cast removed. I could hear the relief in his voice and could see his charmingsmile through the phone. He was happy, which made the rest of us happy, but deep down I knew that happiness wouldn't last for long. I just didn't know the full extent of the dread I felt inside of me. I wouldn't know a damn thing until I finally got home.

TWO

OVERDOSE

WHISKEY LULLABY: BRAD PAISLEY

DOMINIC

Achildlike glee bubbles inside me, a smile so wide my cheeks ache. Leaving the clinic, Five trailing behind, I feel a lightness I haven't known in fucking ages. My cast is off, and I can resume the chaos that caused it. The sky, however, is a brooding canvas of dark clouds, its anger growing with each rumble of distant thunder. A warm breeze, carrying the first drops of rain, sweeps over us as we walk to the car. I try calling Ash, but his phone goes unanswered. Cali, however, picks up immediately.

"Tell me you have good news," she breathes, her voice tight with anticipation.

"I do," I reply, snatching the keys from Five. "My fucking cast is off!"

"Yay!" She shrieks. I have to pull the phone away from my ear; her joy is almost fucking deafening.

"We're just leaving the clinic now. I tried Ash, but no luck. Have you spoken to him?" I ask, sliding into the driver's seat, myhand lingering on the steering wheel, a familiar gesture echoing the way I sometimes trace Cali's delicate skin.

"No, I tried earlier; nothing. Kill and I are heading home, so we'll see you soon. Call if you hear from Ash," she says, her voice laced with a worry that chills my own exhilaration.

My initial joy begins to fade; Ash always returns my calls, and his silence since I left the apartment fucking gnaws at me.

I start the car, the engine's rumble vibrating through my seat. Ash's absence overshadows my relief. This should have been a moment of pure joy, a milestone marking the end of a dark chapter, but the worry is fucking overwhelming.

"What's wrong?" Five asks, turning down the bass.

"I'm worried about Ash," I admit, concentrating on the road as I shift gears and pull away from the parking lot.

I accelerate, the wind rushing in through the open windows. From the corner of my eye, I see Five repeatedly trying to reach Ash, each failed attempt fueling my growing panic. The silence on the drive home is agonizing, my anxiety escalating into a suffocating dread.

Instead of parking in the garage, I pull up to the curb, resigned to feeding the fucking meter to avoid a ticket. Calista and Killian aren't here, adding to our urgency, but I know that they'll be arriving any minute now since they weren't too far behind us.

"He's probably sleeping," Five says, attempting to soothe my rising desperation.

But a deep-seated fear takes hold.After so much heartbreak, the anticipation of disaster feels almost instinctive—a chilling premonition that overshadows any rational thought.He's probably just bored, passed out from being alone all day, I tell myself, but the words feel absolutely hollow.

I force a smile as I unlock the door—a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. Five's reassuring words hold absolutely nofucking conviction. We enter, met by a rush of cold air. Five heads for Ash's room, while I notice the open balcony door and anxiously bolt right to it.

A knot tightens in my stomach, and a lump forms in my throat that I can't swallow, a silent prayer escaping my lips. Empty vodka bottles litter the balcony, and for some strange reason, it's an unusual, chilling sight. Then I see him.

"Ash!" I cry, dropping to my knees beside his lifeless body, cradling his head in my hands.

My hands tremble as I frantically search for a pulse, tears welling in my eyes. Five now stands frozen behind me; the sight before him has fear etched on his face, and it takes a lot for Five to show that emotion.

"Fucking call 911!" I demand, laying Ash on his back and beginning CPR.

The world blurs into a chaotic swirl of color and sound, a deafening ringing in my ears. I see Five's lips moving, but can't hear him. The compressions feel futile, but I keep going, not willing to give up just yet.

"NO! ASH!" Calista's screams cut through the noise, jolting me back to reality.

She rushes towards me, but Five intervenes, pulling her into his arms as Killian kneels beside me. She fights Five, trying to break free, but he wraps his arms around her tiny body and manages to pull her into the apartment, away from the frantic scene I'm trapped in.

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