Anon the Serial Killer

You awake to the sound of your alarm going off. You slam your fist down on the clock to silence the offending noise.

You sigh happily. Today was the day the new maid you hired was going to start her job. It was rather difficult to keep a mansion as big as yours in good shape by yourself so you did what any sensible person would do: hire some help. Also, the fact that someone else would cook your meals appeals to you as well.

You sit up and stretch, loosening up your muscles. You get out of bed and initiate your morning routine: brush your teeth, shower and make breakfast. You finish your shower, put on decent clothes and head downstairs to the kitchen. You take some eggs and bacon and put them in the frying pans atop the stove.  A satisfying sizzle comes from the bacon as it touches the metal. You give another happy sigh. Life was pretty good, and it was about to get better.

As if on cue, the doorbell ringing draws your attention away from the food.

You let the food begin to cook and walk to the front door. You open it and the sight of a lanky woman with large, unkempt red hair startles you a bit. Large, purple framed glasses blocked a good bit of the space around her eyes. And, to top it off, she wore a French maid outfit that looks like it came right out of a porno.

Oh boy, here we go.

“Hi! My name ith Twitht, your new maid!” she says as she holds out a hand for a handshake. She spoke with a noticeable speech impediment that makes you mentally cringe every time she pronounces an “s”.

You reach out to shake her hand and openly stare at her for a moment to ponder what you did to deserve such a punishment. The person in front of you offends every one of your senses. If it were any other person, you would have told them to go the fuck away. All you wanted was someone who was quiet and perhaps a bit attractive, but instead you get… her.

One question goes through your mind as you are shaking her hand: why the fuck did you email her instead of setting up an interview?

You return your attention back to her. “Hello, my name is Anon. Welcome to your… new… job…” you say with a forced smile. “Come on in, I guess.”

You step aside and she walks in. You close the door behind her. “I was just making breakfast in the kitchen.”

You walk back to where your food is cooking and Twist follows.

Your new maid walks ahead of you and to the stove. “Let me finish cooking thith for you. I might ath well start working now.”

Already, the thought of her handling your food makes you uneasy. “Uh, how about I finish cooking breakfast?”

“Nonthenthe! I’ll take care of it. You go thit at the table and wait. It’ll be done soon.” She returns her attention back to the food.

In order to prevent her to speak any further, you comply and go sit at the table.

Five minutes later, Twist walks over to you with a plate and a glass full of orange juice. She sets it down in front of you and moves back a few feet to look at you expectantly.

You taste a piece of bacon to find it severely burnt.  As you chew, you see that the eggs are completely unrecognizable. The only reason you could tell they were eggs was because you saw them in the pan earlier.

“Well, how ith it?” Twist asks with excited eyes.

You swallow the burnt bacon with a struggle. “It’s, uh…decent…” you say slowly. She seemed so delighted to be working you didn’t want to bring her down despite her agitating presence.

“Great! I’ll let you finish,” she says as she walks back to the foyer.

As she steps into the other room, you hear her trip and fall. “I’m okay!” she yells to you. You give a sigh.

What have you gotten yourself into?

You spend the rest of the day showing Twist around the house. You tell her what needs daily upkeep and how to do it, what rooms she should stay out of and what time you have your meals. She listens to your instructions with her attention fully on you.

By the time you finish showing her around, it was around lunch time. You tell her and she immediately opts to make it for you. Fearing what horror she would make next, you make an excuse.

“How about I cook us lunch instead? It’s your first day here and it’s the least I could do,” you say with another forced smile.

She opens her mouth to respond, but you speak before she can. “I insist,” you say urgently.

Twist sighs and complies, disappointment apparent on her face. “Oh, alright.”

You make yourself and your maid simple sandwiches. The less time you had to sit at the table with her, the better. You eat quickly and tell her to get started with the cleaning when she was finished. You leave the room so quick you don’t even hear a response.

Dinner time rolls around and you walk back into the kitchen where Twist was waiting for you. You tell her you would like a steak, and much to your surprise, she tells you she doesn’t know how to make it.

You decide to teach her since you had a lot of experience cutting meat to make dinner for yourself. You give a demonstration on how to cut the meat and tell Twist to imitate what you just did. As she begins cutting, she yelps and drops the knife.

You rush over to her. “What happened?”

She shows you her palm which now had a deep gash on it. “I acthidentally cut myself.”

You grab her wrist and inspect the wound.

Instead of making sure she was alright, you find yourself staring at the blood trickling out of her hand.  The small shine of the liquid and the slight metallic smell holds your full attention. You felt drawn to it. The sight of it makes your heart race, not with fear, but with some… indescribable feeling.  The slow stream of the red liquid entices you. It satisfies you.

 Her blood begins to leak onto the floor making a small pool of red.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The feeling starts to get unbearable.

You can’t help yourself.

[spoiler]You want to make more, so much more.[/spoiler]

Twist taps you on the shoulder. “Uh, thir? Are you alright?”

You jump a bit and shake your head, pushing the disturbing thoughts away from your mind. “Uh, yeah, I’m…fine.” The hand holding her wrist starts to tremble ever so slightly with anticipation.

You release her wrist. “You should go home. Right now. Get your hand fixed and be back tomorrow at eight in the morning,” you say in a rush. You want Twist gone right now.

“Are you sure you’re—“

You cut her off. “I’m fine! Now go and get that hand checked out.”

Your small outburst startles her and she makes haste back to the foyer. You hear the front door open and slam shut.

You take a seat at the table, completely forgetting about the food and the blood on the floor. Questions form in your head faster than you can answer of them.

What the fuck were you thinking? Why was her blood so… alluring? Did you just think about… killing her?

“What the fuck just happened?” you say to yourself.

You shake your head and decide to call it a night. Twist’s awful presence was probably just setting you on edge.

Right?

You get up and begin the walk back to your room. No matter how hard you try to keep your mind focused on other things, the sound of Twist’s blood hitting the floor still echoes in your mind.

You step into your room and change into clothes that were more comfortable. You jump into bed and lie on your back. You try your hardest to distract yourself, but you mind keeps wandering back to Twist and her bloody hand.

You can’t stop thinking about it. The thought alone sends a shiver of delight down your spine. You want to make the blood flow, to satisfy that itch in your mind.

Maybe tomorrow you can take a knife and do just that. It wouldn’t even be that hard. All you needed was Twist. Just tell her to help you get something out of the basement. You would get behind her and--

“No! God no! What the fuck am I thinking?!” you shout.

You keep telling yourself to stop, to think about other things: happy thoughts, funny thoughts, anything sane, anything normal. But you can’t.

[spoiler]Because blood made you happy, whether you liked it or not.[/spoiler]

After what feels like hours, sleep begins to overtake you. You let the sound of her blood trickling onto the floor lull you to sleep.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Day 1 End
---------------
You stare, eyes wide, at the ceiling. You glance at your clock. 4:30am.

You cannot sleep. The last time you tried that, you had dreams. Vivid dreams. Horrible dreams. You remember the blood. There was so much of it. It was like an endless river of red. Just flowing. Flowing through your thoughts like a creek in a forest.

You bring yourself to a sitting position. You swing your legs out of bed, stand up and walk to the bathroom.

You look in the mirror. You look awfully tired. But you know what would happen if you went back to sleep. The feeling would only get stronger.

"The feeling to what?" you ask your reflection. But you know the answer. Ever since you've awoken you knew.

You stare at the mirror for a few moments when an idea comes to you.

You open your medicine cabinet and take a razor blade. Does it really matter where the blood comes from? You don't have to do anything drastic to satisfy that itch, do you?

Only one way to find out.
---------------
You are Twist.

You step out of the taxi that drove you to Anon's mansion and begin your trek up his abnormally large drive way. The nearest town was nearly an hour away making it completely out of walking distance unlike your other jobs. The pay Anon offered was a lot higher than what you would usually make, so you didn't really mind much.

You take a look at your surroundings. For a rich guy, he lived in a rather remote area. A forest about half of a mile away surrounded his house on three sides. The large driveway that connected his house to the road was the only reason it wasn't surrounded completely.

After fifteen minutes of walking, you eventually reach Anon's front door. You ring the doorbell. A few minutes pass and he does not answer. You ring the doorbell once more. After another five minutes, still no answer.

'That's odd, he was pretty quick to the door yesterday,' you think to yourself. You go to ring it once more when the door swings open abruptly.

The man standing there looks completely different from the one you saw yesterday. The day before, he looked lively, in good condition, and, to be perfectly honest with yourself, quite attractive. But today...

His tired eyes show he hasn't slept in a good long while. His shoulders sag, giving him an emotionless and dull appearance. His presence alone seems to take the life out of the air. You look down at his hand. You give a small gasp when you notice the bloody bandages that are wrapped his wrist.

What happened to him?

Anon notices your staring and moves his hands behind his back. He glares at you for a moment with unusual intensity before he decides to speak.

"Just get to work. I'll be around if you need me."

He was obviously bothered by something, but what? You decide that your cheerful attitude might perk him up a bit.

You give him a smile. "Okay, Anon! Ill--"

He cuts you off with a stern voice. "No talking, just working. I'll make the food and you start the upkeep on what I mentioned yesterday. Understood?"

You nod. Your smile falters a bit, but you keep it on your face.

His gaze softens a bit. "Good."

You watch him turn around and walk away to one of the hallways until he disappears from view.

You step inside and close the door before making your way toward a different hallway. Anon showed you where the supplies were kept during the tour he gave you the day before. You try to remember where you were when he showed you it, but you figure the longer you walk you'll eventually either remember or find it. You recall a ceramic vase directly across from the storage room that signified it's location, but thats all you can remember. There were a lot of tasks and places Anon told you to remember yesterday so it was a bit difficult to keep track of them all.

During your stroll through various hallways, you eventually come across the object from your memory. The vase that stands atop a pedestal is an odd combination of red and white that gives off an eye-catching gleam in the light.
The day before you remember Anon noticing your curious gaze aimed at the vase and him telling you to be extremely careful with it. He said it held a significant personal value to him. When you tried to inquire further, he said that it was "personal for a reason", so you dropped the topic.

You open the storage door and step inside. You gather the supplies necessary for you to complete your tasks for the day and go back into the hallway.

Time to get started.
---------------
Before you know it, it's time for you to go home. Since the house was so big, it was almost like a maze. It gave the walk from place to place more of a fun aspect to it because you didn't know the layout of the numerous hallways quite yet. Getting lost in the giant mansion and having to figure out where you were took away some of the monotony of working.

After putting the supplies away, you walk back to the foyer and head toward the front door. Anon opens it and you step outside. As soon as your back foot leaves the foyer, Anon slams the door shut behind you, making you jump.

You turn around and frown at the door. Anon has been acting awfully strange lately. Every time you saw him in the house, he would always look at you. Not in a perverted way, though; it was almost like he was waiting for something. Anticipating something. His gaze always lingered on you for longer than you were comfortable with. You decided to ignore it, however. Anon was already on edge for whatever reason and you didn't want to set him off.

You do another one-eighty and start the trek back down the driveway, your thoughts still on his queer behavior. Was Anon expecting you to do something? Was that it?

Maybe he was looking at you because he thought you were... attractive? You blush a bit and giggle at the thought.

You continue down the pavement, oblivious to the very same person you were thinking about watching you from the windows until you disappeared from sight.
---------------
You are Anon.

You are sitting in a chair in the foyer, waiting for the doorbell to ring. You haven’t slept in quite a long while. But that’s okay. You have a different plan to carry out today since the one you tried yesterday had… sub-par results. You unconsciously grip your bandaged wrist at the thought.

You had hoped it did not have to come to this, but the longer you waited, the more anxious you became. It will not be long before that feeling makes you do something you regret.

You give a weak laugh at your train of thought. “As if I won’t regret what I’m about to do today,” you say to yourself in an unenthusiastic tone.

But it has to be done. It won’t be that bad, right? You don’t even like Twist. Her speech impediment made you mentally flinch every time she spoke and simply looking at her made you grind your teeth. You have nothing to lose but everything to gain.

You don’t know how you know, but you feel as if going through with this will make everything better. Just ask Twist to help you with something in the basement and do what you have to do. Everything will be alright in the end, you just know it.

You take a glance at the grandfather clock against the wall. 7:57am. She should be arriving any minute now.

On cue, the doorbell rings. You stand up and walk toward the door. As you walk, you reach behind you and tap the large blade in your back pocket.

A smile makes its way onto your face.

This one was genuine.
---------------
You are Twist.

You ring the doorbell to Anon’s mansion, something you feel you are going to be doing a lot in the coming days. The door opens after and reveals the owner.

Once again, Anon looks different from the day before. What was a tired, emotionless man the day before looks infinitely better this morning. He had a lively air around him and a nice smile to top it off. He stood straight and ready to face the day. His face still had signs of sleep deprivation, but compared to yesterday it was hardly noticeable.

“Come in, come in,” he says, waving a hand to the foyer with enthusiasm.

‘He sure is in a better mood than today,’ you think to yourself. It was a bit odd how Anon’s demeanor seems to change every day, but you don’t put much thought into it. His good mood is infectious and you find yourself smiling.

You step inside and turn to Anon to speak. Before you can, he walks up to you, puts an arm around your shoulders, and leads you to the hallway you went to yesterday.

“You go get started on the cleaning and I’ll go do my thing, okay? Okay.” He nods his head in affirmation and gives you a light push before quickly walking away in the other direction.

You raise an eyebrow in confusion before shrugging and writing off Anon’s odd behavior as him just being himself.

You begin your search to find the storage room. It takes you half the time it took yesterday to find the obscure part of the house it was located. You decide today that you are going to clean all of the artifacts Anon has since you cleaned the rooms around the house yesterday. Anon is the only one that lives here, so you think that most, if not all, of the rooms would stay in exceptional condition for a few days.

Once you had the necessary supplies gathered to complete today’s task, you walk down the hallway and start your work.
---------------
Some hours later you find yourself back at the storage room. Anon kept most of his priceless antiquities on display atop pedestals in the hallways, eventually making you to do a full circle around the entire mansion. You were surprised at just how many there were and how varied they looked in appearance. They obviously originated in different places and times throughout the world and it must have cost a small fortune to afford even half of the relics he owned. But to Anon, a small fortune must be pocket change.

The odd white and red vase catches your eye just as you are about to step inside the storage room. You stare at it for a moment and realize that you forgot to tend to it. Mentally scolding yourself for missing something so obvious, you put down your supplies and take out feather duster.

You walk up to the vase and pick it up. You cradle it in one arm and proceed to dust off the pedestal. It obviously has not been cleaned in a while judging by the excess amount of dust. It should only take about a few minutes before it’s in decent condition.

A voice from behind startles you out of your concentration.

“Twist? Ah! There you are,” Anon shouts.

You jump at the sudden rise in volume and as a result, you dropped Anon’s vase. You can only watch in horror as gravity take its toll. The resounding shatter of the delicate relic against the floor echoes throughout the hallway. You move your arm in front of your face as a myriad of broken porcelain shoots in every direction. The whole event took only a few seconds, but to you, it feels like hours.

You tear your eyes away from the remains of the vase and look at Anon. His entire face is that of shock, his eyes staring at the mess you’ve caused. His mouth hangs open as if to say something but no words come.

His face abruptly changes to that of pure, unfiltered anger. His hands clench with fury and you can even hear his teeth grinding. You know you just fucked up big time.

You close your eyes, awaiting the raw verbal onslaught you think is coming your way. You can take whatever he says; you just hope it doesn’t get physical.

When nothing comes after a few minutes, you open your eyes the slightest bit and what you see shocks you. His face isn’t that of infuriation anymore. Instead, he is calm. His gaze is relaxed and his hands are no longer clenched. But, instead of looking at the vase, he is looking at you.

You decide to break the silence. “A-are you alright, thir?”

He tilts his head to the side and he speaks in a chilling, calm voice that rattles you to the core. “Am I alright? Why wouldn’t I be?”

He keeps staring at you with unnerving intensity. It’s like his eyes are staring right into your soul, your very being.

You open your mouth to speak, but Anon beats you to it. “I was just going to ask you for some help. I need to move something down in the basement, and I was wondering if you can help me. After that’s done, you can clean up this mess.” He gestures to the ground in front of you.

Regardless of what he said, you can still feel the tension in the air. “Of courthe, thir.”

Anon nods, turns around and walks away. You follow.

As you are walking, you can’t help but think that you got off easy with that vase. You expected a lot of yelling, maybe even him shoving you a bit, but what you got was the complete opposite. Anon’s cool behavior only served to unnerve you even more.

Anon leads you through the giant maze known as his house and he eventually stops in front of a door. He reaches into his pocket, takes out a key and unlocks the door. He opens it and steps inside. You can hear his footsteps decrease in volume as he descends. You take a moment to relax before following him.

You step to the door and the first thing you notice is that the area is poorly lit. You slowly begin your descent, every step taken with caution since it was a bit difficult to see. After a moment, you finally get to the last step.

The first thing you realize is how big it is. The basement alone had to be a few thousand square feet because it was huge. It was at least ten times bigger than your apartment back in town. The next thing you notice it how empty it is which strikes you as odd. Aside from a large furnace in the corner of the room, it was void of any object. Didn’t Anon say he wanted your help to move something?

Anon’s voice draws your attention away from your thoughts.

“Twist, could you come over here for a moment.”

You look around and see Anon in the center of the room, his hands behind his back. His stance seemed pretty tense for whatever reason.

You make your way over toward him. Once you are a few feet in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak.

“You just had to break my vase. You just fucking had to, didn’t you?” he says in a cold tone that contrasted his relaxed demeanor only minutes before.

You shift your feet, feeling incredibly uncomfortable right now. You swallow nervously. “I’m thorry, thir. I-it wath an—“

You are cut off as Anon lunges at you. Before you can react, his right hand makes its way to your stomach. You stumble back, thrown off balance. Once you gain a steady footing, you look down.

A knife was sticking out of your abdomen. You fall to your knees, suddenly feeling light headed. Your mind is in shock, preventing you from speaking.

Anon walks up to you and rips out the knife. You cough up some blood as removes the sharp object. You look up in time to see Anon bring the knife across your neck. You fall to the ground, blood pouring out of both wounds. You don’t even feel any pain. Either that, or you can’t properly register it.

You look up to see him standing over you. Your look into his eyes, silently asking why he did this until your vision fades to darkness.
---------------
You are Anon.

You don’t know how long you have been staring at Twist’s body, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from her.

Her body lies on her side in a pool of red, her outfit a mixture of red, white and black. Her eyes are wide open, locked in a permanent state of disbelief.

You smile to yourself. A smile that can only be described as sinister.

After a few more minutes you finally tear your gaze away from the sight. You make your way back to the stairs and begin your ascent. You would deal with the body in the morning, but now you need some much needed sleep.

The feeling that kept nagging you was finally gone and the itch in your mind was finally satisfied.

For now.