Page 57 of Psycho
“You can pull sensations from me, right? Use me as a buffer. Like I do with my music and the rest of the world. I’ll be your psychic headphones.”
Lucas snickered at the ridiculousness of the statement. “Psychic headphones?”
The idea was silly. There was no way something like that would work. Except, it already had in August’s office when he’d showed him his frozen lake. “Fine, but if there’s a severed foot or hand in there, all bets are off.”
August lifted the box, testing its weight, giving it a slight shake. “It doesn’t feel like a severed appendage,” he said with an authority Lucas didn’t dare question.
“Okay,” he said finally. “How do we do this?”
August circled his arms around Lucas’s torso, his palms running along his chest and belly. “Did you find the lake soothing?”
Lucas let his head drop back against August’s shoulder. “Yes.”
“Then just close your eyes and focus on me.”
Lucas let his lids flutter closed, shivering instinctively when the icy wind of August’s psyche hit him. Lucas wondered if everybody could conjure this level of white noise at will or if August’s genius gave him an almost supernatural edge over the rest of the world. Or maybe it was his psychopathy. Either way, Lucas found it easy to melt into his head.
Just like before, August stood behind him on the bank of this frozen lake, holding him just as he did in real life. Everything was so real, Lucas thought he could reach out and feel the drops of water pooling off the barren tree branches to form icicles. The wind whistled but Lucas didn’t feel cold anymore, just serene.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but when August set the shoebox between Lucas’s splayed legs, it suddenly joined them in this snowscape. His stomach dropped as his hands hovered over the box.
August pressed his words against Lucas’s ear. “I’m right here. Just remember I can’t see what you see so you’ll have to talk me through it.”
Lucas nodded, almost afraid to speak. He flipped the lid off the box, unable to hide his surprise when he saw the object within was just a shoe. Part of him knew it was neverjustanything with Kohn, but he’d expected something more gruesome.
It was a sky-high platform shoe made of clear acrylic, like if Cinderella had become a stripper. There was a butterfly charm hanging from a chain that dangled from the back, at the heel. Lucas swallowed hard, hand hovering over the shoe, willing himself to pick it up.
“You can do this. Focus on what doesn’t belong. Remember? You’re ready this time. This isn’t anything new to you. You’ve done it a thousand times before.”
August was right. This wasn’t anything new. Kohn had caught him off guard last time. He was ready this time. He picked up the shoe, sucking in a breath as the first image hit him. “A woman. She’s leaning into the window of an old truck. It smells like loose nicotine and stale beer. She has on a cheap pink wig, like for a Halloween costume. And a blue cotton dress. These heels. Now, she’s in the truck. Bench seat. An old radio is playing classic rock. He lights her cigarette. She’s laughing. She’s not afraid of him at all.” He hissed as electricity jolted through him. “Pain. Blackness. He must have knocked her out.”
The next images were like a strobe light, throbbing in and out of focus. He groaned as a wave of nausea washed over him. “I’m right here,” August promised.
Lucas leaned back against him, stepping out of his memories to look out over the peace of August’s lake.
After a moment, he plugged back in, only, this time, he was her. “Something metal is pressing against my back. It’s like a grate digging into my skin. My arms are over my head, my shoulders ache. It smells like sweat and blood and urine. And fear. Does fear have a smell? I can see him. He’s right there. He’s wearing a…bag on his head, with the eyes and mouth cut out.”
“He’s fucking with them? Using it to heighten their fear?” August asked.
“It should be ridiculous but it’s terrifying. When he takes a girl, she doesn’t come back. I know I won’t be coming back. He’s usually dressed casually, but now, he’s shirtless and wearing leather pants, like some kind of medieval executioner.”
August’s hand petted through Lucas’s hair. “Putting on a show, maybe?”
“I’m scared. And so fucking thirsty. I just want some water. I ask for it but he ignores me.” Lucas whimpered. “He’s not dragging it out for my benefit, he’s moving around, busy, like he’s performing some kind of ritual or routine.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s leaning over…adjusting something in the corner of the room maybe. He’s not even paying attention to me, just making himself busy. I can’t see what he’s doing. He has all these…tools on the wall. Homemade. Crude. Terrifying. He hasn’t used them on me yet, but I know I’m next. I know this is the end for me.” He couldn’t stop the sob that escaped. “My mom. She won’t know what happened to me. She’ll think I left her to take care of herself. She’ll be worried when I don’t come home.”
“Shh,” August soothed.
“He flips a switch and the whole room is bathed in red. I’m so scared, he’s kneeling in front of me…”
“What’s he doing?” August asks.
“He’s… Jesus. He’s taking off her shoe. He’s doing this for me. This is for me. He wanted me to see all of this.”
Lucas launched the shoe off the bed with a snarl, knocking the shoebox away and wrenching himself from August’s grasp to pace in front of August’s bed. “I’m so fucking sick of this shit. Why doesn’t he just come after me directly? Why is he doing this? You should just fucking kill him. No, fuck it.Ishould just kill him. I want to kill him, August. I want to watch him writhe in fucking agony. I want to watch him bleed. I want it to hurt. I need it to fucking hurt.”
