Page 62 of Beneath Her Skin

I found myself on the hunt again the very next night, this time determined to not let the Hooded Killer escape me. The last two times, I had come so close to ending the killer once and for all, and each time, I had fallen short. Each time, another kill had taken precedent, which resulted in another death I failed to prevent. This time had to be different. This time, Ihadto put an end to this.

For the occasion, I had brought a chainsaw. It may not have been the most practical weapon choice, but all my favorite slasher horror movies had at some point featured the use of a chainsaw. It was loud and menacing, and I needed all the false bravado I could get if this serial killer was going up againstanotherserial killer.

Two slasher villains going against each other mano a mano, likeFreddy vs. Jason. Perhaps Iwasin my own movie, and I just didn’t know it yet…

I shook the thought from my mind and surveyed my surroundings, searching for the familiar black hood in the shadows of the nearby buildings. The streets I was patrolling were deserted, as always, and I was sporting my usual slasher getup complete with my signature mask and a hood of my own.

Like always, nothing happened the first couple of hours. But then, I spotted him darting into one of the nearby alleyways, and I wasted no time tearing after him like a bat out of hell.

There’s no way you’re escaping me this time, fucker.

I followed him as close as I dared, which was admittedly not as close as I wanted. So much could go wrong, and I would be powerless to stop it. And go wrong it did when he suddenly stepped into a side alley, and when I finally made it to where he disappeared, he was gone.

Shit!

Which way did he go?

My heart beating a million miles a minute, I stepped into the alley, searching for the most likely place he would have gone. True fear coursed through my veins because if I couldn’t find him, it meant I had failedyet again, and someone else was going to die.

Shit, shit, shit!

Fruitlessly, I spun around, searching every inch of my surroundings. I even checked around the nearby dumpsters, and there was still no sign ofanythingaside from the exit up ahead. But there was no way he would’ve been able to reach that exit that quickly.Was there?

Just when I was about to give the area another sweep, a scream pierced the otherwise-still air, and my blood froze. The woman the scream belonged to was obviously in distress, and yet, this scream sounded different. More feral, as if she were being tortured.

My heart sank as realization dawned on me. There was only one explanation for the woman’s screams being that pained.The Hooded Killer.Without hesitation, I took off towards the sound, my only thought that if I could get to the woman in time, perhaps I could save her. Perhaps if I could just reach her in time, maybe?—

I should’ve known saving her was a futile venture. Because though I tried to reach her as quickly as I could, though I sprinted through alleyway after alleyway, tearing through street after street, it wasn’t enough. Because she had gone silent long before I had arrived, her pained screams having turned to desperate grunts before being cut off completely. And when I finally saw her, the full extent of what had been done to her hit me like a freight train, nearly stealing the air from my lungs, and all I could think was,No! Fuck, I’m too late!

The woman lay in a crumpled heap near the dumpsters completely naked in a pool of blood. Deep slashes marred herstomach like so many women before her, and red stained the area between her legs. Her left breast was completely gone, her right mangled beyond repair, as if an animal had gotten a hold of her and refused to let her go. And perhaps an animal was an accurate description for the serial killer and rapist I was now faced with, the lone figure in a long, black cloak who currently stood over his latest triumph, his back faced towards me.

My grip tightened around the chainsaw, white splitting my knuckles, as I took one careful step after another. My muscles strained with the added pressure, but I barely felt the pain through the shock of it all. This was it, my big moment, and yet, it didn’t feel like it. The air was the same musky scent as before, the killer for a moment looking like every other man I had killed before him. But I knew in my heart he was different, and this kill wouldn’t be like the others.

Before this, I had killed many boys, but none of them compared tohim. Because in the end, they were all immature boys who had all been taught that a woman’s word meant nothing and they were owed everything. But this was different. This was someone who was a killer, like me, except I only went after those who deserved it. He dared to hurt the women he deemed were worth nothing.

I knew what I had to do. I had only used a chainsaw a few times, but I knew enough about it to know if I was quick enough, a timed attack through the back of the assailant would be all I needed to put an end to his tirade. There would be no need to prolong it, not when dealing with someone as dangerous as him.

You can do this. Just put one foot in front of the other, and?—

My right foot twisted, and a sudden slice of pain shot through my ankle. “Fuck!” I hissed under my breath as I fell, bracing my free hand on the concrete so I wouldn’t hit my head while still managing to keep hold of the chainsaw. I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t dropped or broken it, but the pain in my anklecontinued to throb, and as I glanced at where the hooded figure once was, I realized I had bigger problems.

Because no longer was the killer’s back to me.

Instead, he wasfacingme. And for the first time, I got a good look at him, and my heart nearly stopped. Because instead of a stranger, I was staring into the familiar cobalt blue eyes of my cousin.

Barron.

Hewas the serial killer and rapist who was terrorizing my city, whom I vowed to put an end to. My heart leapt into my throat, and I scrambled to my feet as the man I thought I’d known my entire life stalked towards me with nothing but pure malice in his expression. And as he approached, something glinted in his grasp, causing my gaze to travel down. My eyes widened.A machete.

My cousin was carrying a machete.

I shifted my stance and held the chainsaw in front of me. I knew, theoretically, a chainsaw was more powerful than a machete, but where a machete lacked in power, it made up for in speed. All I had to do was somehow avoid my cousin’s attacks, and I might yet come out of this unscathed and victorious.

As Barron came closer, a smile distorted his normally pleasant features, and he chuckled. “What do we have here?” he taunted. “The famous Incel Annihilator I’ve heard so much about? I have wondered about you, you know. About who you are underneath that mask.”

I froze. Just yesterday, I was comforting a genuinely scared Barron about my existence. Now, however, he’d done a complete one-eighty, and my brain found it hard to recognize this Barron as my cousin. But then, as quickly as the shock came, it wore off, and rage like I’d never known before flooded my veins. It was as if I were possessed, and before I could overthink it, I ripped offmy hood and mask, watching as my own cousin’s face dropped once he recognized me too.

For the first time, he showed genuine fear as he stepped back.“Selina?”

---