Unravel Him

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Chapter 35: Cleansing


Unravel Him Playlist on Spotify.

Song; (Zack Hemsy- Graven Image) & (Kings and Creatures- Bone setter)


I stepped out into the cool, cool, evening air, watching the setting sun fall deeper onto the horizon.

What if.

What if.

What if.

A new type of recklessness has formed deep within my chest, twisting and coiling like a snake.

A recklessness that should not be trifled or messed with.

A recklessness that could get people killed, or better said, already gotten people killed.

Jonas picks himself up from his seating position, one hand lightly playing with a cigarette.

“You got what you needed?”

Shaking my head, I take a swig from one of the vodka bottles left behind in the house and felt it burn down my throat.

What if.

What if.

What if.

Jonas eyes me distastefully, not liking that he was being kept in the dark.

“Are you going to keep me waiting or...?”

Throwing the little stick towards him, he quickly shuffled his foot and caught it with his hand.

Jonas takes a moment to analyze my blank expression before he reads what it means.

“I’ll be damned,” He nods, his breath short.

We shared glances, his, impressed, mine nonchalant.

“Looks like you didn’t fuck up.”

The stick only had one line.

Two words.

Not Pregnant.

“I just had a scare.” For the first time since this nightmare started, everything was right in the world.

“You would too, if you’re own mother confessed to switching out you’re pills.” I added.

“That’s illegal isn’t it?”

“Not as illegal as all the other things she’s been doing.” Taking the stick from him, I snapped it in half and threw it inside the junk that was once my home.

Veronica didn’t take care of it from the looks of what I can see considering I could still go in after breaking the back door.

Garbage bags, messy clothes, the likes was all in there.

I’m glad I moved out when I had the chance.

This was no way to live.

“What made you so sure?” He continues to pester, not willing to give up about how blunt I was being.

“Sex is sex, there’s only one way you can get pregnant.”

“Then why this?” He gestures at me and then the house. “Why go through all the trouble?”

“Paranoia? Insecure? Distrustful? Beats me, I just had to see it with my own eyes.”

Despite not sleeping with Thomas on New Years, I just had to be sure.

It was the only thing that kept me sane.

“You’re lucky. You got really, fucking lucky.” He abjures, earning a disgruntled nod from me.

He was right, I got lucky.

What if.

What if.

What if.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped, feeling his disappointment. “I’ve been careful, this wasn’t my fault.”

“No, but it would have been your problem.” He dismisses immediately.

Did he think I didn’t know that?

Did he think I wasn’t scared?

God, what was I going to do with a baby if the test was positive?

I admit, I had thought about it.

Would I be gentle? Caring? Would I love him or her?

Would I turn out like Veronica?

The image alone makes me shudder.

What if.

“Who’s the lucky bastard?”


Jonas raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “I said, who’s the lucky bastard?”

“If you can’t even follow a simple instruction, how the hell am I supposed to believe whatever you say anymore?”

It's like a lightning strike.

I hear his voice, loud and clear, deafening, like a gunshot.

Blinking rapidly, I shut the memories away and locked them up before they could dealt anymore damage.

He had no part in this.

He never has.

I’m happier this way.

It’s eye-opening.

It’s freedom.

“Oh, Vanessa...” Jonas’s quiet humming makes me look at him.

He smacks his lips and twisted an expression that conveyed sarcasm.

“Have you fallen hard for someone?”

“That,” Turning on my heel, I cast him a dark look. “Is none of you’re business.”

“It’s him isn’t it?” He continues, going to shake his dark brown hair at the obvious defense I’m throwing upwards.

“The fucker, you’re involved in the Ring with.”

I don’t answer him, because I don’t have too.

“So what if it is?” I feel my eyes flash.

“What can you do about it? You’ve already screwed with my mind, you think adding this is going to make me even more fucked up then I already am?”

He fell silent, watching me in that reserved way of his.

There's a building storm within his iris, it's churning, twisting and coiling.

Jonas doesn’t say anything but his expression revealed legions.


I half tilted my head, confounded. “We were never together Jonas,”

“Fuck buddies,” He laughs, not for amusement. “I wasn’t ready for the heavy shit.”

“Neither was I,” I agreed.

Back then.

“Things are different now though, aren’t there?” Jonas moves forward. It’s deliberate. I know it is.

“I can see it,” He fingers a strand of my red hair. “That bastard has you wrapped around his finger.”

I hold his gaze until I can no longer do so.

“I need some space,”

Going back in the house, I picked up the brown paper bag and headed towards the kitchen.

Once alone, I shut my eyes and breathed out, hands on either side of the counter.

What was this?

I can't control it.

The ache in my heart.

The need.

Make it stop.

Messing around with the paper bag, I picked up a bottle of birth control pills and shook out the contents into my palm.

I downed it with water and made a vow to myself never to let my guard down ever again.

All this could have ended badly.

My life would’ve have had a seismic shift.

God, it was too damn close.

The thought is horrifying.

Running my hands through my hair, I flipped the tab open and washed my hands, feeling the icy cold water spread throughout my fingertips.

It's freezing, turning my skin a pale sickly color.

But I don't remove it.

I watch the condensation mix with the air around me, turning my sight, foggy and colorless.

Everything is fine.

Everything will be okay.

I'm not pregnant.

I'm not expecting.

I can barely even hear the water as it swirls down the drain and out of sight.

For some reason, the idea of carrying a life inside me has paralyze my entire body from moving forward.

It's scary.

It's fearing.


Moving around the counter, I stumbled onto several garbage bags and nearly fell over.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How could I have lived here for years?

How could I have lived here as Veronica gave up on me?

I’m surprised I’m not anymore fucked up as I already am.

You are.

A nasty voice snarled.

Out of frustration, I began kicking the bags in an effort to clear a path.

I am fucked up. I am fucked up.

I hurt people.

I killed people.

I loved it.

Then, my surroundings are moving.

It's moving much to quickly for me to comprehend.

The walls blur, the atmosphere changes.

I feel warm all over as heat stains the back of my neck.

Suddenly, I hated this house. I hated the pictures frames. I hated the memories.

I hated everything.

Grabbing onto a garbage bag, I swung it across the kitchen and watched it crash against piles of junk, sending everything tumbling.

I wrench the plates and glass down from the cabinets, hearing it smash onto the floor and crack into hundreds of pieces.

"What the-" Jonas pauses beyond the threshold, his eyes narrowed into confusion. "Vanessa-"

Storming past him, I picked up the baseball bat laid forgotten behind the door and destroyed the TV and picture frames in a frenzied struggle.

Everything needed to go.


The living room and kitchen was now a war zone, not a single spot had been left untouched.

I'm distinctively reminded of the destruction I saw in the Gym when the boys asked me to calm down a certain someone.

I guess we really are similar in many ways.

We kill what we can't.

Or in this case, I already have.

Jonas watches me from where I stood, panting heavily, cheeks flush and teeth barred.

"This isn't going to change what's happened,"

His voice makes me glare at him, well aware of the hidden meaning behind it.

"I don't care." Dropping the bat, I de-tangled myself from the mess and headed to the back storage.

Piles of bags and useless items got in my way before I spotted an old rusty can.

Taking the heavy container, I hoisted it out and uncapped the top.

The scent of gasoline quickly arose within the house, giving out a fume so strong, I feel my eyes water.

No more.

No more of this fucked up life.

No. More.

Kicking the bedroom door open, I spilled the liquid throughout what was once my parent's room before heading to mine.

It was the same as I've left it.

The giant hole on the ceiling still stayed there, where I laid day and night under it.

No more.

Throwing the gasoline, it quickly drenched the floor and stained surfaces as I dragged a line all the way towards the living room.

Gasoline splattered onto my shoes and got all over my clothes but I didn't care, all I wanted was to finish this once and for all.

Jonas's eyes are wide and desperate, as the smell of gas hits him I watched the realization dawn on him. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

If this house wasn’t here, Veronica wouldn’t have any reason to do what she did.

Now I was going to make sure she never comes back.


Throwing the now empty can into the kitchen, I take a pack of matches from the cabinet and backed out onto the front door.

“Vanessa, this is insane-”

“I know.”

“You’re going to burn you’re house down,”

“I know.”

“Listen to yourself!” He pulls my arm and forces me to look deep into his eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

"Why wouldn't I be sure?"

He doesn't answer me.

But the question is there.

My life is this house.

My Dad is this house.

My Mom is this house.

Maybe someday, I’d want to come back to that, right?

I'd want to come back, fix it, rebuild what was once lost.

But for some reason, despite all the reasons, no, I didn’t want to come back.


NorthVille is no longer my home.

This place is no longer my home.

I don’t have a home.

“This isn’t home,” Lighting the match, the flame flickered alive before I threw it across the living room.

“I’m ready to watch it burn.”

A blazing inferno quickly licked across floors and walls, melting everything in sight.

I watch glass crash and wood burn as the gasoline does its job in demolishing my once old life.

"Jesus Christ," I hear him mutter, in awe at what I've started.

Walking away from the inferno, I feel the heat rise around the area as the flames grow higher and brighter, catching onto the rest of the surrounding houses.

Thick black clouds billow out onto the skies, tainting snow into milk-like grey.

The scent of smoke not permanently lingered and I pulled up my hood up in an effort to evade it just as the flames exploded throughout the roof, sending sparks raining.

Old bedrooms became charred and destroyed.

Memories scattered themselves into the wind.

“You think I don’t know where you go to late at night? The arms of the woman you’ve been running too?”

“The next time you’re in someone else’s arms, just know that you had us.”

“He’s gone and he’s never coming back!”

“He was my family to! He was my Dad too! You’re not the only one who cried when he left!”

“You ungrateful brat-”

Parents never stop loving their children.

Parents never stop caring.

Unfortunately nobody ever stopped to see that they were as human as the rest of us.

They’re subjected to temptation and urges too.

In the far distance, police sirens and firefighters can be heard approaching the abandoned neighborhood, where the fire continued to spread.

They won't find anything here.

Not anymore.

All they'd find is a beacon of horror and nightmares.

But this was only one house.

One place.

How many others are left?

How many others are suffering?

How many more?

And abruptly, I know what I have to do.

I know what needed to be done.

“You got you’re people on speed dial?” I ask Jonas out of the corner of my eye as a piece of window clattered of it’s position and crashed towards the ground.

He turns towards me, frowning, the left side of his face, reflecting an orange glow.


I smiled, a sinister one. “Because I think the City needs a little... cleansing.”

“A mass wildfire has spread throughout abandoned neighborhoods, 4th and 7th, we inform the public not to go anywhere near it, until firefighters cleared the area.”

Nobody ever said how to stop a growing fire.

Nobody ever cared.

Because once the fire started.

There was no putting it out.

“Two men, aged 42 and 55 have been found dead in their homes. A girl, presumed to be missing has been found and returned back to where her family expresses their gratitude.”

They were murderers. They didn't pull the trigger but they might as well have.

Selling girls...

What did that ever bring?

“Portland is going through a mass genocide where supposedly, people related to an Underground Gang ‘Danivels’ are all found dead in either their homes or public areas.”

“The police have not found any leads,”

They can't find us.

They never will.

They can try.

They can try and fail.

I'm coming for them all.

“Nobody knows, is this the start of something great?”

“Or something bad?”

Cracking my head, I shut my eyes and breathe in, feeling my lungs expand with oxygen.

A shadow moved somewhere on my right and I raised an eyebrow at Jonas as he rest one palm against the doorway, a crack of light seeping through the opened door.

“Done so soon?” I mused.

He nods and with his right hand, swept the splatter of blood from his cheek.

“She’s a tough bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

"Hmm," Stretching my neck, I barred my throat and relaxed onto the arm chair.

The sight is too tempting for Jonas as he walks forward and kisses a small path down the corner of my lips to the top of my collarbone.

"Maybe after this we can fuck in front of her," He whispers. "That should get her to talk."

Gripping the back of his head, I tug his hair so his lips removed themselves.

"Are you done playing with her yet? It's my turn."

The corner of his mouth lifts before he steps out of reach and beckons me forward.

“Why don’t you come in and find out?”

"With pleasure."

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