7:34 PM

01/09/2020

CU -Fetch

It seemed like the more Greg stared at his phone screen, at that small text bubble, the blurrier it got. The more he looked away from his phone and around the room, the blurrier everything got. So blurry, that he couldn't see the bloody body lying motionless at his feet. That body... the body that wasn't there. It wasn't there.

Greg collapsed to his knees, dropping his phone in the process. The blanket-covered body at his feet wasn't there. The blood pooling beneath him wasn't there. He shook his head, squeezing his eyelids shut so tight, it felt like he was crushing his eyeballs. He put his hands over his eyes. His head was pounding and it sounded like his ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't hear his own unsteady breathing. It was a long day. A long, stressful day, but that didn't mean any of this was real. The stress was just getting to him. That's it. If he kept his eyes closed long enough, it could all go away. It would.

Yet... the feeling of blood on his pants still remained. When he opened his eyes, the sight of Kimberly's body under the blanket still remained. And so, he closed his eyes again, shaking his head back and forth. He couldn't let himself see it. He couldn't let himself believe it was real.

It was...

Despite his best efforts to wake up from this awful, hellish nightmare of a day, he found out that he was already awake. Kimberly's body was still there... on the floor... in his bedroom. When he finally accepted this reality, he simply stared at the body. He noticed some of her black hair coming out from underneath the blanket. It looked messier than it usually did.

It was her. He didn't, no, he refused to pull that blanket away. He already knew who it was. That strand of black hair already told him everything he needed to know, so he did not need to see her face.

So, why on earth did he still want to? Why would he want to see that? He was already feeling sick just from looking at the bloody blanket, yet his shaky hands still slowly moved towards the edge of it. Man... he just realized how much he was shaking just from looking at his hands. He pulled them back quickly as if the blanket was a hot fire that would burn him upon contact. He didn't know why his hands were trying to pull that blanket away. Why would he even do that anyway? He couldn't. He wouldn't touch it. No matter how much his hands wanted to pull away that thin blanket... he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He wouldn't curse himself by seeing another awful sight like that. Not again. Was seeing his uncle's finger on the front porch not enough? Did his brain not understand when to stop? How stupid...

For some reason, the blanket felt so heavy when Greg pulled it away, but at the same time, he swore he pulled it back so quickly. He looked at the blood soaked blanket in his hand and quickly threw it away from himself. His eyes remained unfocused as he stared at the blanket. There was so much blood. Not even the dog he found on his porch bled that much...

His brain snapped back to reality as he realized what he just did. His breathing increased. The blanket wasn't covering her anymore. All he had to do was turn his head, and he would know for sure that it was her, but why would he want to know, let alone see that? He wouldn't curse himself with that awful sight and ruin that image of Kimberly Bergstrom in his head. Whatever he saw when he turned his head back to the right, that would be his last memory of her. That was how he was going to see her forever. Not the beautiful, smart, and bright Kimberly his heart fluttered around, but the mutilated and mauled body that he was responsible for creating.

Crash and burn.

Those three words. Out of all the nice things Kimberly said to him, those three words were going to be the only thing he would remind himself of. They would remind him of what he did, the damage he caused to everyone around him, and the girl he killed.

Crash and burn.

His eyes found themselves wandering back down to the puddle of blood coming from the body. Just one turn of his head to the right... that's all... that's all it would take. That's all it would take for him to understand what he did, what he caused.

Crash and burn.

Greg swallowed. His shaking body went completely still as his eyes, now wider than before, stared down at Kimberly's lifeless body. Kimberly... even though her eyes were closed... she didn't look at peace. Bite marks decorated her left arm, small bits of skin hanging loosely from the wounds. Her once beautiful pink shirt was covered in blood and ripped apart in her abdominal area. Her legs looked the worst, especially her ankles, indicating that Fetch must have bitten through her legs first and then tore her apart while she was helpless and disabled. Her stomach had been ripped open. Were those her guts visible through the shirt? Greg could feel the bile rising in his throat as his gaze wondered back up towards the source of most of the blood. The entire front half of Kimberly's throat was missing. A massive chunk had been bitten off with smaller chunks of flesh still hanging on around the wound. Greg looked further up and saw the blood coming out of her mouth, surrounding her lips and trailing down her chin. Those lips, that smile.... He would no longer see it without seeing the blood.

Turning around as fast as he could, Greg hunched over and vomited onto the floor. After his stomach was empty, he folded in on himself, his body shaking once again after regurgitating the contents of his stomach.

Crash and burn.

Greg sobbed. He clenched his eyes and curled deeper into himself. He grabbed at his head with both hands and pulled on his hair. Why?! Why wasn't I the one who burned?! Why did she have to burn and not me?! I'm the one who flew the plane! Greg was an idiot. That's all he could think. This was all his fault. He thought he was so special, didn't he? He thought he knew everything, that he could control Fetch! Why didn't he know better?! This wasn't just something he could control! Why did he think he had it under control?! Why did he think he had any control at all?!

"Greg..."

Greg almost screamed when that quiet voice called out to him. He turned towards the door, believing his mother walked in. God, what would his parents think?! There was no way they would believe him, even if he tried explaining it! If Kimberly's parents didn't believe him when he tried explaining everything, then there was no chance that his parents would, especially his father. God, his father...

What was he going to do?! He couldn't go to prison! Would they send him to prison?! He was their son! No, no way! You're going to be okay, Greg... He thought. No matter what his dad thought of him, there was no way he'd call the cops on him, right?! Not for something he didn't do!

"Greg..."

That voice again. Greg kept looking around his room. One part of his mind thought it was Fetch trying to mess with him, trying to pour salt on the wound. That voice... it sounded familiar. It made him feel a certain way. It made his heart beat a little faster whenever he heard it.

"Greg..."

That voice... was Kimberly's voice.

Greg finally focused on the body in front of him. He felt like vomiting again just from looking at it. But, something was different. She was different. Her blood was different. Her blood, for some reason, was black like ink. Maybe it was just his imagination, but right now, her blood had turned black. For once, he wanted to look at her body. His confusion and curiosity tempted him to keep looking. He wondered why her blood was black. Even the stains turned black. He glanced down and saw that the pool of blood on the floor was also black. Staring at this substance filled Greg with a sense of dread, one he couldn't explain. It was different from anything he felt before with Fetch. This feeling he felt when he was staring at Kimberly's body was... well, it was hard to put into words. All he knew was that his body felt wrong the longer he stared at it. It was this strange, suffocating feeling that was giving him a flight or flight response.

"Greg..."

Greg gasped. There was no way what he just saw was possible. Kimberly's mouth moved. Greg could feel a crushing weight being placed directly on his heart as that suffocating feeling grew stronger. He saw Kimberly's mouth move. He heard sound come from it. He knew he did. Was she still alive? A part of Greg hoped so. He wanted to believe that she could be saved... but looking at her body... her mangled and mutilated body... he couldn't see a chance for her.

Hold on...

How can she talk with her throat missing?

"Greg..."

His thigh was being touched by something, something that wasn't there before, something that shouldn't be there, shouldn't even be moving. Greg looked down at Kimberly, looked down at her smooth, gentle hand softly caressing his thigh. Her manicured fingers glided up and down his thigh, moving back and forth. It was the kind of touch Greg believed one lover would give to another, a kind and loving touch, one that reminds the other person that they were still there.

Her arm, no, all the skin on her body was pale. Even through his jeans, he could feel the cold coming from her hand. He had personally never touched a corpse before, but he at least knew that bodies got cold long after they died. He didn't think that this cold was the same. This felt even colder. It was like he was standing outside in a blizzard. That's how it felt, but not physically. It was more like a cold in his mind. His mind felt the cold more than his skin actually did.

Her eyes started crying, no... Greg believed leaking was a better word to use. Her eyes started leaking more of that black blood. It ran down the sides of her face and stained her cheeks. Her facial muscles twitched as she started to move. He could no longer see her irises in those black pits, but he had a feeling she was looking right at him. Her hand on his thigh kept caressing him gently.

"Greg..."

Her mouth moved. Her lips parted and the voice that came out possessed the same softness as it did the other few times he heard it.

"Sorry..."

Greg chose that moment to finally scream. It was loud and his voice cracked at one point. He stumbled to his feet and ran out of his room. That... whatever that was... was not Kimberly! Whatever that was, it was a monster! He had to get away! Far away!

He thought he heard his mother calling out to him, but he was too scared to pay attention to her or anything else around him. He just needed to get out of the house. He pushed the door open and tripped off the stairs. He landed on the hard sidewalk and hissed in pain as his arms scraped across the hard surface. He scrambled back up to his feet and nearly tripped again from how fast he ran. He got onto his bike and pedaled as hard as he could. He rode down the sidewalk, resisting the wind for the second time today. His mind was racing. That was not Kimberly. It couldn't be her! All of that, no, all of this that's happening right now was all just a bad dream! She's not dead!

"Greg? Are you okay? You look scared. Am I scaring you?"

That voice again. It made Greg sob as he heard it. He wanted to be deaf in this moment just so he wouldn't hear that voice. It was supposed to be a beautiful voice, one he could love. This voice didn't belong to her. It shouldn't belong to someone as wonderful as Kimberly. It shouldn't come out of the mouth of something so terrifying.

"Greg, it's okay. I am right here beside you. Just tell me what's wrong, okay? And, I promise I'll make you feel better."

This is all wrong. This isn't how things were supposed to go. Those thoughts were playing on repeat in Greg's mind. The words that Kimberly was speaking... they were words he always wanted to hear come from her mouth and be directed at him. He wanted her to comfort him like this one day. And, it was that same desire, that need for comfort in a time like this, that got her killed.

This was all his fault. How could he be so selfish? How could he ask for this kind of comfort when he didn't deserve it? If only he wasn't so needy, Kimberly would be alive right now. If only he didn't ask for her, she would be okay.

***

7:55 PM

01/09/2020

Greg should have been paying attention to the time. He didn't know how long he had been riding outside for, but did that really matter? Was he even going to go back home? He wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't know what his parents were going to think of him now. They definitely found the body by now, but would they believe he did it? They were his parents and he wanted to believe they would take his side so badly. Sure, his father was a jerk, but there was no way he'd think his own son was a murderer.

"I'd say I'm disappointed in you, but that would be saying I expected anything from you at all."

Oh... right...

How could Greg think so highly of him? Shouldn't Greg know any better? It was foolish to think anything would go his way at this point. He stopped at a street light. He slowly got off his bike and sat down against the metal pole. He pulled his legs close and rested his head between his knees.

"Greg... what's wrong?"

A cold hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to see her again. Kimberly was standing up now. Despite having half of her throat chewed out and her guts spilling out, she was still talking and standing like nothing was wrong. He screamed and fell onto his back, frantically scooting away from her. She was standing next to his bike. His quickest means of escape was out of reach.

Escape... did he even need to escape? Could she hurt him? Was she even real? Or, was it all just in his head? Even though it made him nauseous doing it, he looked at her body and saw how the light from the street light above her seemed to go through her. This had to be in his head. You can't just... see through people like that. But, when he felt her hand touch his shoulder just now... he could feel it. He could feel her skin and the bitter cold that came from it. His body felt her hand.

"K.... Kimberly?" He croaked out. His voice seemed to fail him when he looked at Kimberly. She giggled. That smile doesn't belong on that face! Not that thing's face! Not that thing his mind conjured up!

"Yes, silly. It's me."

She stepped closer, making him back up some more. His breath quickened and his eyes were wide.

"B-But... you're...."

"Oh, Greg! Are you okay?! You're crying!"

He reached up and felt his cheek, and sure enough, he started crying and didn't even realize it. Why would he cry right now? He was more terrified than sad. Greg heard that some people do cry when they're scared, though.

Before he knew it, Kimberly was kneeling in front of him, bringing him in for a hug. His body panicked when he felt her body press against his. He screamed when he felt her. His brain wasn't lying to him. This... whatever this thing was... was real. He could feel her arms gently wrapping around him, treating him with the gentle nature he expected from the real Kimberly. His shirt started to get wet from her blood. That's when he realized that her guts were pressing against him. He quickly vomited over her shoulder.

"Oh, my..."

She rubbed his back like a mother soothing a sick child. He wanted to pull away so badly. He wanted to throw up even more. This was disgusting. This thing was not Kimberly. It was just something... some kind of... he didn't know what it was. The only thing he knew was that it was real. No matter what he told himself, it was real. It looked, sounded, and acted just like her. No wonder he started to hug her back.

She hummed in his ear. He could tell she was probably smiling.

"Just keep holding onto me, okay? I'll stay here until you're better."

Greg felt the drool leave his mouth as he spit out the remaining bits of vomit in his mouth. Even though some of it should have spilled onto her shoulder, it didn't. It just went through her. So, she really wasn't there. That still gave him questions. How could he feel her? He knew for sure now that he had to be awake. The sensations felt far too real to be just a dream.

This was real. It didn't matter if this really was Kimberly or not. She, or whatever this thing was that was using her face, was still real. He could touch her, feel her breath against him. This was all real. The revelation gave Greg an odd sensation at first, one that could only be described as something like a headache. It felt almost like a numbing sensation, like the world around him was going quiet to allow him to think more clearly and process this.

Then, in the next moment, Greg began to feel an overwhelming range of emotions. Anger, sadness, fear... it was like everything was hitting him all at once, how his whole world, no, his life was going to change because of this, all because of one text. He was all alone with this thing. He knew he couldn't go home, not now, not for a while. He ran away while a dead body was in his room. If that wasn't bad enough, he was already arrested once. When he tried to warn Kimberly, her parents thought he was a stalker and called the cops on him. His parents bailed him out, but that was only because he wasn't in too much trouble. Now? Now, they're going to believe he killed her. They know he was at her house. They have evidence, and because of that, he'll have to hide for a long time probably.

Was that going to be how the rest of his life would go? He was just a kid. A kid didn't deserve to live a life like that. He wasn't ready to live a life as a criminal. Greg shook his head in resignation. He should've known this would happen. If he did, he wouldn't have sent that text. But, how could an idiot like him know that? For all his intelligence, he failed to understand the full scope of the consequences. For all he knew, a life as a fugitive was what he deserved.

Kimberly stayed close to him, her embrace providing hollow comfort. There was supposed to be warmth, but Greg couldn't feel it. He remembered the way he used to daydream about her. He would dream about this, of moments where their bodies were locked in a seemingly eternal embrace. Her presence... as sickening as it was... was also comforting... and that was more disgusting than her appearance. He didn't deserve to be comforted by her, not after he got her killed.

Maybe, that was the point. This thing must be taunting him, comforting him just to make him reach unfathomable depths of misery.

Her hold on him never weakened. She stayed latched onto him, still providing unwavering comfort. He was expecting to stay afraid of her, but... being in her embrace was surprisingly helping him calm down. Despite his earlier thoughts about her, her comfort was helping him relax. Maybe he had just gotten used to her presence, but he no longer felt scared of her. Yeah, her appearance was... disturbing to say the least... but at least her hugs were nice. It made it easy to ignore the state of her body.

He started to wonder how long he would see her like this. Was she going to be... attached to him? Like, as in... will he keep seeing her? For the rest of his life? Was he going to have to live with the corpse of his crush forever? Was this supposed to be his punishment? Greg could believe that. Of course she would be the icing on the cake for his punishment. It made sense that her face would be used to torment him further.

His negative thoughts were interrupted by the growling of his own stomach. Oh... right, Greg thought. I hadn't eaten anything since I left for Kimberly's. Kimberly seemed to notice his sudden hunger as well given the fact that she pulled away for once and giggled at him.

"Sounds like you haven't eaten in a while."

Greg slowly nodded. "Yeah... I never had dinner." It wasn't like he had time... or the desire to eat anything anyway.

"Well, you should eat something."

Greg looked down. "I don't know... where can I go?"

"Don't worry, Greg. I know a good place where you can get food."

Greg looked up at her curiously. "You do? Where?"

"My house has lots of food you can eat!"

Her voice sounded cheerful, just like her. Greg looked at her apprehensively. Did she forget what happened the last time he went to her house? Her parents would call the cops on him again, and after what happened to her, the police would lock him up for trespass and murder! Did they even know what happened to her? Did they see Fetch kill her? Obviously, Greg wasn't in the mood to get an answer to that question. He wanted to stay away from her house if possible.

"Kimberly, I can't go back to your house." He answered. She tilted her head like a confused puppy.

"Why not?"

"Because your... your parents don't like me. Don't you... remember what happened?" Greg asked curiously. He was confused about why she didn't know why he couldn't go there. She was there when they found him. He even directly spoke to her.

"No? What happened?"

Now, Greg was even more confused. "Really? You don't... remember anything?"

She shook her head slowly.

"No."

Was this really Kimberly? Surely, she'd remember something like that. Or... was this really her and she didn't have any of her memories?

"Umm... Kimberly?" Greg asked cautiously.

"Yes, Greg?"

"Umm... what do you remember? Like... do you remember anything from the past day?" Greg asked. He had to know how far back Kimberly's amnesia went.

Kimberly moved away from Greg and sat there, pondering Greg's question. She looked like she was thinking really hard about it. She furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms, occasionally rubbing her forehead as if that would do anything to help her remember.

"I don't think so."

Greg looked more confused. "What do you mean? You don't... 'think so?'"

Kimberly shook her head.

"It's like... there's pictures in my head... but I can't understand what any of it means..."

Greg's eyes saddened. It sounded like her memories were disorganized and scattered. "Well..." He started. "Can you describe the... pictures to me?"

Kimberly pursed her lips in thought before speaking up.

"I remember... a lot of blood... and... and teeth.... And you obviously."

Greg wasn't surprised about that last one, but something still seemed to confuse him.

"Do you remember where your house is?" Greg asked.

Kimberly's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, as if she was caught off guard. Then, she blinked multiple times and her head shook.

"No... I don't."

Greg wasn't surprised, but that answer still bothered him. How could she not remember where she lived? She just offered to take him to her house, didn't she? Maybe, she knew she had a house, but forgot where it was.

"Do you remember your parents?" He asked.

"No..."

She spoke slowly, like she was also processing that information.

"I don't. I just remember you, Greg."

"You remember me? But, why?"

Kimberly looked like she was going to say something, only to pause and look down in thought.

"Hm.. maybe... because you're important to me."

"Why?" Greg asked.

"Let's not worry about that right now. The only thing that's important is getting you something to eat."

Kimberly answered, talking in an almost motherly way.

Greg couldn't understand why Kimberly was acting this way towards him. He knew she at least knew him, but they were never close. At least, they weren't close enough for her to act like this towards him. It was... new. What could have influenced this?

"Come on. Let's try and find a place where you can eat that's not at my house."

Kimberly asked with a patient tone. Greg stayed where he was on the sidewalk, staring between her and his bike. His body was stuck. Was he supposed to just... go along with this? What would this look like in public? Could other people see her? He supposed there was really only one way to find out. He slowly pushed himself off the ground and walked towards his bike.

"Yeah..." He answered. "Okay. Uh... I know a place that's close by."

She smiled at him as he got on his bike.

"That's great! Let's go!"

He sat down and gripped the wheels. He looked to where Kimberly was and noticed that she wasn't there anymore. She disappeared again. But, he knew she was probably still there. He just wasn't seeing her. He sighed. At least he couldn't see her all the time and she could at least choose to be visible.

Greg steered his bike off the sidewalk and rode down the street.

***

8:31 PM

01/09/2020

As he entered the Snack Space, Greg looked at the selection of games nearby. The building had that classic arcade feel to it with old arcade games and an air hockey table. He looked at the counter. He knew food here was cheap. That's what made this place a good spot to go to. Not that he knew. He knew it was popular in town, at least from what his friends told him.

Would he ever see his friends again? Greg knew trying to reach out to them was a bad idea. Any phone calls he made would be tracked. His phone... he completely forgot that he left his phone at his house. He sighed. Guess I eliminated that issue.

Before he walked up to the counter, he decided to try something.

"Hey... Kimberly?" He asked, hoping she would appear. It didn't take long for that to happen. She stood next to him, giving him a curious look.

"Yes?"

"I want to see if other people can see you." Greg said. "Can you, like... move around other people and try to make them see you?"

Kimberly looked at Greg quizzically, to which Greg responded. "Please? I need to know if other people can see you."

She finally seemed to accept his request when she walked towards a kid and put a hand on his shoulder. The boy didn't react at all. He just kept playing with his toy. Greg felt relieved. At least nobody else could see her. But, that relief was soon replaced with concern. She may be invisible to other people, but how would that make him look if he ever talked to her in public? As far as other people would be concerned, he would be talking to himself. He would have to only talk to her when other people aren't around. Compared to people seeing Kimberly, that problem wasn't even much of a problem.

"Did I do a good job?"

Kimberly moved back to Greg's side, clinging onto his arm.

"Yeah. Thank you... Kimberly." Greg had to force out her name. He was so unused to seeing Kimberly look like this, something only a psycho could imagine. Greg hoped she wasn't in pain from how damaged her body was. He tried averting his gaze to look away from her visceral wounds. In the process of looking away, his eyes landed on a nearby table. He sat down on the wooden chair. For the first time in hours, he was able to sit down in an actual chair. His legs instantly relaxed, but the rest of him wasn't comfortable. Kimberly's presence across from him made that impossible.

She reached across the table to take his hand in hers.

"Greg? Are you alright?"

Greg shook his head slightly. "No... no, I'm not."

"Maybe you're not feeling okay because you're still hungry. Once you get some food in you, I'm sure you'll feel better! I... remember something about food. I think I used to be good at making it."

Kimberly smiled affectionately at Greg. He looked away, staring at the TV across the room. Seeing his distant, sad expression made her frown too. Seeing Greg sad made her sad.

Please... can someone help me? Greg thought to himself. Please, just help me take all this back.

TO BE CONTINUED...