These are scrapped chapters from A Choice of Dreams (AcoD)
In a way, they could work, or they just don’t fit in with the current story. I’ll make use of some of these, or none of them.
The first one: it felt like I was repeating the same chapter over again.
The second one: I don’t remember much of it and I’ve had a different idea for the next chapter.
I had to take a break as my mind wasn’t in the right mindset. The break took longer than expected, sorry. A whole bunch of things happened and I’m still not up to making this book. I will finish it, but it might not be a good finish. I enjoyed torturing Ember Wixx, but this book will be on the back burner for now while I work on my other novel The Omega Test (TOT) and a new one Feel Like Gold (FLG) not published yet.
I hope you don’t mind, but right now I just can’t handle to dark for long and need to step back.
Anyways, enjoy these scrapped bits of words while I write the next chapter.
Chapter 12 Damaged
I’m remembering something about Path, my head hurts, it hurts so much. Why does it hurt when I try to remember something about my captors? Like I’m not supposed to remember them, did I repress this memory? Are there more I repressed? What about what happened? How did I get captured? What was the last beating like? What happened? What was my last dream?
Name: Ash Grimm
Age: 30
Ash Grimm, caught February 13th with his latest victim. Emily Wishwild who went missing two months ago from her home with no forced entry or struggle. Ash Grimm held no remorse towards his victims as he was held for questioning.
He had this to say: “Yes, I walked into their social life before taking them, making friends with them when they least expect me to be the bad guy. And once they invited me over to their home alone I took them and brought them to a secluded house on the outskirts of the city. As we rested there I took care of their bodily needs until it was time I grew bored of their pitiful expression.Seeing their pained expression is so lovely to look at. And the warm flowing blood was delicious to feel, excellent for lubrication. When they bleed is the best, so I often did it when they were on their period. Taking care of them afterwards was a hassle but rewarding in the end when they become more docile.”
Profile:
The suspect is male, likely left-handed, in his late twenties to early thirties. He likes to use a custom blade for his victims, sees his victims as a sexual release before and after killing them. The average length of him keeping his victims alive is one week before he’ll get bored and find another. In a recent event he kept Emily for two months, we can assume that she was his favourite. In later discovery he has three victims at a time, all separated from each other in different houses. Depending on how well he likes the captured person he’ll give them their freedom little by little until he knows they will not run. Emily was free to roam the locked house it seems as she had no marks on her wrists or ankles.
Giving them this and having them depend on him for all their needs, if he doesn’t like how they act he’ll give them treats and take the freedom away and start on another person repeating the same process with them. He’s manipulative, giving his victims false hope before taking it back and locking them up again. He’s not physically violent with his victims until he is bored with them, according to Emily Wishwild before he was captured they were in the act. Saying that he’s going to miss her beautiful skin once he was finished. According to her statement, Ash Grimm was going to kill her after he finished the intimate.
Scrapped
Chapter 12 Soft Repression
I woke to warmth, my arms around something like they were going to leave at any second. I quickly pulled back and pushed myself away.
“Hm, get back here,” they mumbled and pulled me back into their arms. I couldn’t tell who it was and the memory of that dream still haunted me. If it was a dream... what if it happened and these men did something to make me forget? What do they always talk about? What do they say to me?
Ah, my head hurts. I’m seriously repressing all these memories about these people.
What did I think of them before all this happened? What was I like before?
Cold. Uncaring. Those two I’m still hanging onto but now it seems like they are slipping away the more time they spend around me. Making me dependant on them. Do I remember how to cook for myself? I should try that. I need to get myself somewhat back. I turned away from the person towards the door, if I can slip out... actually the last few times I checked the fridge there was nothing in it. Could it be the same for the cupboards? I haven’t checked them.
I slipped out of the man's hold and started for the door, I still feel tired but I need to get out. I walked down the hall towards the stairs, glancing over the railing it was indeed, as far as I can see, only me and the other guy. I tentatively walked down the stairs towards the kitchen to poke through it. It was bare.
I sat down at the small table, my fingertip nervously tapping the top in a rhythm. This was a good plan of theirs, so I’ll need to think of something to counter them. I can’t use the gym, I’ll have to let myself fall into their grasp and make them believe that I’m... ugh broken...
It felt disgusting.
I’m still a little suspicious that they are watching through a camera somewhere keeping an eye on me. I got up and went to the door leading to the basement. I already felt uneasy near the door, almost sick. Actually no, I do feel nauseous. Why? I walked away from the basement and decided to go to the bathroom upstairs.
Strange. I don’t feel sick now. Something is wrong with the basement. Could it be a smell? A very faint smell that I got used to? Or something else entirely? I walked back to the room and seen the man sleeping soundly. I leaned up against the desk and watch the male snoozing away on the bed. I have a slight headache from the bright natural light and the bright room in general. After being in the dark for so long, I’m more sensitive. I heard the front door open and close and decided to check it out.
“...ould Blair mind if we postpone the plan for a bit longer?” I heard.... Lou? Ask.
“No, he’d probably agree with it, Sage. We’ll hold off on it for a bit longer, so far Ember is behaving well. So rewarding him for his efforts would be good for everyone.” Path, that was him. I’ve grown accustomed to his voice already after hearing him talk so much during my bedridden time. I stepped out from behind the wall looking down at them, I was about to say something but it suddenly felt like I shouldn’t when Lou looked up.
“Hey, Buddy,” Path smiled up at me, I turned and went back to the room. Whatever they want to talk about I’ll leave them to it. I have my planning to do. For instance, what is the ‘reward’ they were talking about? Also what of their ‘plan’? I opened the door and Chic was sitting on the bed, he looked tired. I stopped for a second debating on to stay put or walk over to him. The latter would benefit greatly, gather what happened last night. The former would show that I was back to not trusting him. That would be a drawback because then he would also close off, and I don’t want that.
I walked forward and sat beside him, not close but just enough to show that I at least trust him.
“What happened while we were gone?” Chic whispered, and I felt at ease when he asked like that. I still don’t feel like talking to them though. I brought one leg up to my chest and resting my arm on it to make it seem like I was shielding away from him. Chic sighed and we sat in silence.
What would normally happen after this? I’m never good with this, not even with Timber. He was always the one initiating it and I went along with it happily. Whenever he was sad we would sit like this, with nothing else to do but offer my shoulder. I was just no good with these types of things. Now I have to pretend... high chance that Chic won’t lean towards me, so I’ll have to be active about this situation. It is what they want.
It does make me sick.
I suddenly felt something being put on me and I was ready to fight, but realizing it was Chic’s blanket I relaxed. It seems that this is Chic’s way of showing me comfort. Strange. So this position shows that I need some form of comfort. He’s still cautious of me because of my earlier reaction, so he’s holding back on wanting to get close to me.
“Path and Lou are back,” I whispered as I brought the blanket closer to myself. Chic hummed and waited for me to continue. “I’m still tired, I don’t remember much about it,” I said and leaned to Chic’s side.
“I see, you were pretty spooked when we got back,” Chic said placing his arm around me, “get some more rest, I’m sure As-uh Path will be up with lunch soon.”
“Okay,” I was about to lay down far from him until I was wrapped up securely in Chic’s arm and on his lap. “Isn’t this...”
“You sleep better like this,” he said, I huffed out a sigh and got decently comfortable. Thinking of a plan will have to wait, for now, this seems like a good start. I have to remember to show some affection to him, only some because of my recent... trauma I guess?
Crackling, snapping, crunching.
It’s so distant but it feels like it’s so cold outside.
Wooooo
What was that sound? He held still for a moment waiting for the sound again.
Wooooo
Ah, it’s the wind. It’s just nearing the end of Autumn and the biting frost of winter was fast approaching. The night seemed to drag on as he ran through the forest. Why was he running? From what was he running from? Where was he running to?
Scrapped
Oh, okay. So it’s a good thing that I scrapped this bit as well. It was interesting, it was. But my mind is somewhere else now and I feel like you guys have been cooped up in the same room as Ember.
(Giant gust of wind blows the screen towards me)
Well, that was a fun near-death experience. News headline reads: NinjaPhyre gets murdered. Records show that NinjaPhyre was writing a chapter for A Choice of Dreams, a novel on Tapas.io about a detective getting kidnapped and reliving a beating and his past mistakes. They were just finishing a bonus chapter as their welcome back gift to the readers of A Choice of Dreams when suddenly they were struck down by a metal frame with mesh netting.
(Wind picks up, stares suspiciously at the screen on my open window)
I hope I didn’t just write my death. That would be unfortunate since I want to die peacefully or saving thousands of lives or peacefully dying as I saved thousands of lives.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed that and I’ll figure out a new schedule for this novel since once a week on Sunday at 6 AM PDT/PST isn’t going to work for me anymore. I might do this one once a month, or twice a month. The day will stay on Sunday and the time will stay at 6 AM PDT/PST.
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