17. Soren

17

SOREN

I wake up alone in bed the next day, remembering it’s Christmas Eve. When I walk out of the room, I see Sophie’s family decorated for Christmas the previous night. Tinsel is hung up. Multi-colored lights are draped on the fireplace mantel. The perfect tree that I picked out when asking Sophie to marry me is glowing with soft white lights. Despite a few weeks in the garage, it looks as good today as it did back then.

It’s weird starting over. I miss the ornaments I’m used to seeing every year. It gives me nostalgia. But it’s nothing more than that—somberly missing what I’m used to seeing. I like this tree, and I like how warm this living room feels with the decorations that family put up. I wouldn’t trade it for the familiar things. I like the new stuff.

However, I miss my kids. It’s a cold ache in my chest. I sent the twins a pile of presents they’re going to open on the phone with me tomorrow. But it’s not the same as having them here. The same feeling that drove me to therapy threatens to pull me under a heavy cloud as I look at the decorations.

On the tree, I spy a few ornaments that Sophie’s family must have bought us. There’s one featuring a picture of Sophie and me. Someone must have taken it with their phone.

Where’s Sophie?

My eyes slide down to all the presents her family brought up. She probably freaked out when she saw those, considering they’re filled with my victim's body parts. Shit.

“Sophie,” I call out, moving into the kitchen. There’s a note on the counter with my name on it. The ache in my chest grows.

Yesterday, she said that even if she loved me that… fuck . That it wouldn’t work out. I just kept telling her she was wrong. I should have listened to her instead of blindly thinking everything was going to be fine.

I grab the letter and open it up.

“I had to leave.”

I close it back up. So this is how it is.

It feels very important that I get rid of the body parts under the tree, but I can’t seem to motivate myself right now. I shove the letter in my pocket. I don’t want her family to see it.

I sink into the bar stool and look out the kitchen windows to the slopes. They’re not open for the day yet. It’s gray outside, awful weather. The snow has gone from festive to cruel, viciously blowing sideways.

I’ve been in this position before. It’s not a nice feeling. They all figure out there’s something missing inside me. Sophie found it fascinating… but only academically. My fingers brush the letter in my pocket. Hoping for more from her was a mistake.

The house is stifling. The heater makes the air suffocating. This big house is a mockery. I can’t have what I want because I’m not like everyone else. I don’t want to be alone, but unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that.

The one person I thought had accepted me, liked me, couldn’t in the end. I was fascinating from a distance, not something to accept into her bed and heart.

Idiotically, I wait. Maybe Sophie didn’t mean what I think. I’m in a bad mood this morning. Maybe I’ve jumped to conclusions. Maybe Sophie is at the store.

“I had to leave.”

It’s so vague that I cling to hope. Her family gets up and asks where she is. I smile and say she’s at the store getting presents. Wouldn’t that be nice? They brew coffee. And I keep waiting and waiting.

She’s not coming back.

I go back to my room, close the door, and lie in bed. Hours go by. Her family asks me to go with them to a buffet for Christmas Eve lunch. It’s probably the last chance I’ll get to pretend I’m part of a family. But I can’t act like a normal person right now. My personality is stripped bare; only the cold ache remains. I’m not good to be around right now. The missing parts of me are too present.

Once they're gone, I get the undeniable urge to kill. It’s the only thing that’s made me feel better over the past year. It also helped me finally accept who I am, instead of hiding it. Shoving it down had felt like a cage. If I had never murdered, I’d still be miserable and in denial.

If I give up my gory hobby, I’ll have nothing.

But I’d rather have nothing than lose Sophie. The realization startles me. I sit up in bed. Defeat isn’t what I’m currently feeling. No, not at all. I accepted my ex wanting me gone, but I can’t accept Sophie leaving. I won’t let her walk away so easily.

I’ll give it all up, everything, if I have to. Whatever she wants me to do, I’ll do it. No killing, no fucking, whatever. I don’t care.

I want her more than I want peace of mind or the undeniable pleasure of killing an asshole. She’s my person. I need her.

And she’ll accept me once I agree to do what needs to be done. What she keeps desperately trying to keep me from doing. Soren Erikson is going to retire from serial killing so he can live happily ever after with his therapist.

The sudden desperate need to find her is panic-inducing. For a man who never panics, it’s disturbing. It feels like I’m dying. My chest hurts, and my stomach feels sick. Useless thoughts keep running in my head. Worrying that I waited too long to make this choice. That I might have lost my chance.

“Fuck me,” I gasp as I grab at my chest. If I wasn’t a paramedic, I’d think I was having a heart attack.

I grab my phone and video call her without hesitation. I can’t go another second without her. To my surprise, she picks up right away. Her beautiful face fills the screen. Her button nose is a little red. I adore her.

“Soren—”

“I need to tell you something,” I blurt. “I’m quitting. I won’t kill anymore. I promise. And I won’t fuck you anymore either if you don’t like it. We can go back to how it was before. Except, of course, I’ll be desperately in love with you.” I chuckle anxiously. I’m a goddamn mess.

“Soren,” she says.

“Yes?” My heart is in her hands. Please accept this, Sophie.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She asks. I blink at her.

“Uh, what?”

“Soren, look,” she sighs. “Can you come kill this guy? I was trying to get you him as a gift.”

“You were getting me a man? That feels…” I grimace. Maybe I was too convincing when I kissed that corpse before?

“To kill.”

“Oh!… oh?” I’m confused. She sighs.

“I wanted to show you that I’m okay with you killing and assure you that I’m never leaving.”

“You were?” I’m getting choked up. She really did just leave for the store. If the store was an euphemism for picking up new murder victims.

“Yes, but he sort of realized I was up to no good and— Shit, he’s coming back.”

“What?” My voice is cold as ice.

“He’s got me locked in his closet. I’m texting you the address now.”

“Wait, he let you keep your phone?” I ask.

“Soren, focus. I’m trapped. Please come and kill this fucker.” The text comes through.

“I love you, Soren.” Sophie disappears. My phone says the call has ended right when I hear some fucker growling at her.

Everything I never hoped to have is in danger. The anger that comes over me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Sophie’s family gets back to the house at the same time that I’m running out of it.

“The streets are terrible! Is Sophie back?”

“I’m going to get her.” I’m blinded with rage as I get in my car. The roads are slick, freezing rain morphing into sheets of ice on the hilly roads. It’s infuriating going slow. He’s so fucking close, but it feels way too far right now.

I know who the guy is. I’d looked him up before, but I try not to be terribly obvious about serial killing. Which is why I put him off. I was splitting up things between this county and surrounding ones.

He’s a sick fuck, and he’s got my therapist in his hands.

After what feels like forever, the rage has morphed back into that terrible anxiety again. This is truly what love is. I know it from my kids. Love is about being terrified of loss. It’s other people having the capability to destroy you. If Sophie’s hurt, if she’s gone, I won’t survive it.

The front door is wide open when I pull up to the house. His foyer is starting to grow damp from the freezing rain.

“Sophie!” I yell. I follow the prints in the snow. They twist around the side of his house. Two sets. One smaller than the other. He’s chasing her. I feel sick.

Behind his house is a steep incline that I struggle to get up in the weather. When I’m spit out on the top, what I find is sickening. He’s on top of her, his filthy hands wrapped around her throat and squeezing. She can’t breathe. Her lips look blue.

It all goes white. Normally, I’m more in the moment than ever when I kill. The smells, the sensations—the entire experience is visceral and poignant.

Right now, I can barely tell what’s happening. I’ve rammed him off her, and I’m beating the ever-loving shit out of him with my bare fists. It’s not pleasing; it’s absolutely necessary. The bones in my hands break as I keep going. The sick fuck can still wheeze from what’s left of his face, so I rip my belt from my pants and loop it around his throat. I tighten it and drag him to the drop-off I know is behind his house. When I was considering how I’d kill him before, I thought dropping him off the cliff would be fun. It’s not fun today.

I twist around, wrapping the belt around my fist. My eyes find Sophie as I pull it tight. She’s still lying in the snow, watching me. She nods as I keep holding the guy. My muscles strain as I lift him off the ground. There’s a crack in his neck.

My energy gives all at once when his neck snaps. I drop in the snow, roll him over, and kick him off the edge. Then I crawl back to Sophie.

“Are you okay?” I ask. I wipe her cheeks, leaving stripes of red from my bloody hands.

“I’m sorry,” she rasps. I touch her throat. He hurt her. “This was a dumb idea.”

“It’s okay; my idea was dumb, too.”

“To stop killing?

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” she agrees before she gives a husky laugh. I start laughing with her.

“Maybe next time, you can be more clear in your note that you aren’t leaving me for good.”

“Sorry,” she sighs. “I wanted this to be a surprise.”

“Well, you accomplished the surprise part pretty well, at least.” Her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. She pulls it from her coat. It says “mom” on the screen.

“Hey,” she says, flicking it on speakerphone.

“Hi, Sophie. Is Soren there with you?” Her mother asks tentatively.

“Yeah,” Sophie says, smiling at me. I smile back. “We’re together.”

“Right, well… we opened some presents.” A long moment of silence stretches between the three of us.

Sophie suddenly bursts out laughing, tears falling from her eyes. I start laughing, too. She sits up, throws her phone off the cliff, and flops back down next to me in the snow. I touch her face. She’s mine—really and truly.

“I love you,” she says breathily, carefree almost.

“I love you too. I promise.” I flash her a smile. “Psychopath’s honor.” I cross my heart. She snorts.

“I believe you. But Soren, how fucked are we?” She groans.

“Depends on when we make it back,” I say, looking at my phone. “If we hurry, everything will work out.”

“Oh, why's that?” She laughs.

“I’ll drug them. They won’t remember a thing.”

“Are you serious?” Her eyes bug. I shrug.

“Yeah, absolutely. I’m in the medical field. Don’t worry. Pop ‘em a little forget-me pill. They’ll all go down for a nice nap. Oh! Gives us time to wrap the real presents we got delivered too.”

“I get the feeling this is going to happen a lot,” she sighs. “Why are you smiling about that?”

“Because that means you’re really staying. And that we’ll host your family again.”

“The prospect of drugging my family multiple times makes my husband excited,” she groans.

“Husband, eh?”

“I’ve gotten used to saying it.” Sophie blushes. Her lips are cold when I kiss her.

“Come on.” I pull her into my arms and start to carry her back down the hill.

“Thank you for saving me.” Her frigid fingers touch my jaw.

“I’ll always save you.”

“I know.”

“I’d do anything for you, Sophie. So if you need me to quit—” she presses her fingers to my mouth.

“I love you just the way you are, Soren. Perhaps my morals are fucked, but that’s what makes us work.” I nod, fighting the lump in my throat down. Serial killer one-oh-one, don’t cry when your therapist makes you feel like a puddle of goo. That would be embarrassing.

“Told you it would work out.” I smile. “Just need to drug your family. Then we can have our happily ever after.” I half-slide down the hill and move around the house. My car is still running. She needs to get back into the warmth.

“Soren?”

“Yes, Doctor Moore?”

“You won’t ever leave me either, right?”

“There’s nothing in this world strong enough to take me away from you.” She smiles softly, pressing her face into my chest.

“Forever then.”

“Forever.”