ชิ้นChîn: Chapter 14. Returned Is Life

Kate sits in Charlie's apartment at the dining table, on their phone with an empty coffee mug in front of them.

-Ayden-

Now

[Ayden] I have work tonight

[Ayden] Come hang till then? I have something spicy

[Kate] If you hand me a literal bottle of hot sauce again as a joke, I'm going to pour it over your dick.

[Ayden] I tried that

[Ayden] its not the good kind of hot

Kate snorts as they stand and pull their bag over their shoulders. They walk out as they text.

-Charlie-

30 mins ago

[Kate] Still out?

Now

[Kate] I'm off. Let me know when you get back.

[Kate] You had better be alright.

-

The murderer stands over Charlie in a basement, the blade coated in blood.

The murderer stands in the house, staring at Charlie, the victim's arm in his hand.

He chases Charlie through an old, decrepit building.

Charlie runs through the woods, panting and wheezing.

He jolts awake, sweating, his breath ragged. He sits up on Nora's couch and looks around, dazed and half awake.

Charlie: 'Have we left yet?'

Still in a state of confusion, he stands up and stumbles towards the basement.

He enters and glances around.

Charlie: "Conner—?"

He spots a shimmer from the desk at the back wall. Charlie tenses up and slowly walks over to it as the static creeps in. Flashes of the murderer and the latest victim run through his mind.

Charlie: 'It's not real—It wasn't real—"

He stops in front of the table and stares down at the silver blade.

Charlie, shaking: 'It can't be real.'

Unblinking, he mindlessly reaches for it and picks it up. He stares at his warped reflection in the silver. His shaking intensifies, and the blade slips from his grip, slicing his hand as it falls. He reels back with a small cry as the blade drops back onto the table. He stares down at it, then looks down at his hand as a few drops of blood flow from the cut.

Basit steps into the basement.

Basit: "Charlie?"

Her right arm holds most of its shape, but it's still clawed, toothy, and slightly deformed bare muscle.

She walks up to Charlie.

Charlie's voice cracks: "It—It was real? He was really there?"

Basit: "... Yea."

Basit: "Come on, let's put a bandage on that until it heals."

She turns and waits for him to follow. He looks back at the blade, a drop of his blood on its edge. He stares up at the evidence board and the collection of papers.

[View board #4]

His eyes land on one of the notes.

#8

Completed thy work for our Lord, and He shalt know thee in His Vassal.

For as long as His Vassal is made complete according to His will, so shall the Vassal be of His Divinity.

Fear not for the Vassal in its work for God, for only our Lord may strike down His children.

Neither the Hallowed Man nor the Scion can bring harm unto our Lord, for He is highest beneath God.

Basit steps back up to him, puts a hand on his shoulder, and leads him away.

-

Late noon

Kate steps into their mother's house and pulls off their shoes. Their mother storms down the stairs, anger masking panic on her face.

Catherine: "Where have you been?"

Kate, short: "Out? I have a life, you know."

Kate goes to walk away, and Cathrine follows.

Catherine: "You're going to end up dead if you keep whoring around those bars!"

Kate mutters: "And I'm sure you'll be so distraught."

Catherine upset: "This is your father's fault. You wouldn't be like this if you were never exposed to that queer friend of his—"

Kate snaps: "Fuck you! Stop acting like you have any fucking idea what my life is!"

Catherine: "Cody! I'm your mother—!"

Kate: "No, you're not! You're just the bitch who gestated me!"

Catherine: "How dare you! After everything I've done!"

Kate sneers: "You've done nothing but use me as a tool to validate your own existence!"

Catherine: "Everything I have done has been what's best for you and your wellbeing—!"

Kate tears up: "No, you haven't! You have no idea what that even is! All you've done is destroy my well-being! You put me down, you assume the worst, you view me as a freak!"

Kate heads back for the door and slips back into their shoes.

Catherine: "I know you're not really a freak, I know this isn't you, Cody, you're just confused—"

Kate turns again and shouts through tears.

Kate: "All you ever do is make me feel like shit! Anytime I find any modicum of happiness in myself, you shit on it! I can't even share anything with you anymore!"

They exit and slam the door behind them.

Catherine: "Cody—!"

-

Charlie enters his apartment, dejected. He stares at his empty bed for a moment, then checks his phone and responds to Kate's texts.

[Charlie] I'm fine.

He steps up to his kitchenette, sets down his phone, and unwraps his hand. He stares at the cut, still fresh and unhealed.

Charlie sits down on his couch, a bottle of liquor in one hand and a bandage in the other. He drinks directly from the bottle and then wraps his hand back up. Afterward, he sits in silence and stares down at his feet. A slight hint of static lingers as he turns on the TV and grabs the bottle.

-

Evening, Charlie, on his couch, passed out. His phone beeps, but he doesn't respond. His phone rings, and he jerks awake with a short, terrified shout. He stares at the phone, breathing still ragged. He answers it, voice cracking.

Charlie: "H-ello?"

Kate: [Hey, Charlie. I hate calling, but I know you have a habit of sleeping on your phone.] They snort.

Charlie doesn't respond, staring off.

Kate: [Charlie?]

Charlie stirs: "Yeah?"

Kate: [Are you busy? I'm sure you've had enough of me by now, but—Ayden's at work, and I really don't—] They sigh [Want to go out? My treat.]

Charlie stares at his bandage.

Kate, concern: [Charlie?]

Charlie: "Yeah?"

Kate: [Are you alright?]

Charlie: "Yeah, sure—I'm fine."

Kate: [If you want some space—]

Charlie: "No, it's fine. We can—whatever."

He rubs his face, reaches for the bottle, and holds the phone's mic away as he lifts it.

Kate: [Alright… I'll come pick you up then.]

-

Kate parked outside Charlie's apartment. Charlie gets in, still unkempt.

Kate: "Want a drink?"

Charlie: "Yes."

Kate: "Guess I'm not the only one who had a stressful day?"

Charlie doesn't respond, and Kate drives off.

-

Kate and Charlie sit together at the bar where they met. A half-full mixed drink in front of Kate, and an empty glass of hard alcohol in front of Charlie.

The bartender steps over and refills Charlie's glass. Kate watches Charlie's bandaged hand as he picks it up.

Kate: "What happened to your hand?"

Charlie, flat: "Nothing. It's fine."

Kate frowns, concerned.

Kate: "So how did—whatever it was you had to do—go?"

Charlie looks down and focuses on his drink as he downs it.

Kate: "Charlie, are you alright? You seem kind of out of it?"

Charlie: "Didn't get any sleep."

Kate, faint smile: "Right. That's probably at least somewhat my fault. Oh—!"

They reach into their backpack and pull out a printed picture from Charlie's birthday.

Kate: "Here."

Charlie takes and looks at it with a blank expression before pocketing it.

Kate stares, concern deepens.

Kate: "Can I touch you?"

Charlie: "Yeah."

Kate puts their hand on Charlie's shoulder and lightly pulls him in to kiss the side of his face.

Kate: "Come on, let's just head back to your place."

-

They enter the apartment. Charlie steps inside and walks towards the couch, not turning on the light. Kate follows and watches as Charlie sits on the couch and grabs the bottle from the coffee table.

Kate steps over to the couch as Charlie takes a large swig.

They sit beside him, gently take the bottle from his hands, and set it back down on the table. They kiss him and pull him up from the couch and towards the bed. Kate gently pushes him down onto it, causing Charlie's face to give a sickly grimace.

Kate crawls on top of him, straddling him. Charlie pulls Kate down and shifts on top of them. Kate kisses him, and Charlie pulls away, his breathing becoming ragged. Kate continues to kiss his neck as they pull his shirt up. Suddenly, Charlie leans over the bed and hurls. Kate sits up, sighs, and rubs his back as he hurls onto the floor again. He finishes, his breath calming.

Kate: "Feel better?"

Charlie: "..."

Kate: "Charlie?"

They lean over and see Charlie passed out. They stand up from the bed and step over to sit on the couch with their phone.

-Ayden-

[Kate] I'm going to need to stay with you for a while.

[Ayden] Everything ok?

[Kate] No. Is your offer for a place to live still open?

[Ayden] shit yea

[Ayden] really not ok huh

[Kate] I'll talk about it all later.

[Ayden] want a ride?

[Ayden] help packing?

[Ayden] anything?

[Kate] No, I'll handle it.

[Ayden] lmk if you need me ok?

[Kate] I have, thanks.

[Kate] Love you.

[Ayden] love you 2

[Ayden] be safe babe

-

The murderer stands by Daniel's body and holds the disembodied arm. His head turns, face obscured by the shine of the face shield. Everything goes red.

Charlie jerks awake with a shout. Panting and sweating, he stands, walks over to his kitchenette, and turns on the coffee pot. He leans over the counter and rubs his baggy eyes as it brews. The coffee machine obscures the sound of Kate exiting the bathroom. They walk up to Charlie and put a hand on him affectionately.

Kate: "Not too hungover, are you—?"

Charlie jerks away with a loud and shocked yelp, hyperventilating.

Kate pulls away, surprised and worried.

Kate: "Charlie, are you okay? Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Charlie, sharp: "I'm fine."

He turns away and reaches for the alcohol bottle on the counter. Kate's face twists with discontent, and they gently put their hand over the bottle's mouth.

Kate: "Can we talk?"

Charlie lets Kate take the bottle and put it aside. He keeps his head low as Kate speaks.

Kate: "Charlie, I don't know what you're going through, but I've seen it before with Dad. And I've seen where this spiral goes. He fell through the cracks in health care and lost the treatment he needed. He started drinking a lot, and that spiraled into—"

Kate's face twists with deep pain.

Kate: "He killed himself..."

Kate: "This doesn't help, Charlie. You need real treatment!"

Charlie: "I'm fine, Kate. It's not that bad, I just get nightmares sometimes. I've been kind of stressed out."

Kate: "Charlie, you've been drinking a lot more lately—"

Charlie, defensive: "I said I've been stressed out. It just takes the edge off."

Kate, frustrated and desperate: "This doesn't just stop on its own, Charlie!"

Charlie feigning humor: "I'm flattered you care, Kate, but trust me, I've been worse off—at least I still know what day it is…"

His smile drops slightly.

Charlie mutters: "Roughly."

Kate, crossed arms: "That's not the reassurance you think it is."

Charlie: "I'm not going to die, Kate—"

Charlie, disappointed: "—Trust me, the world gave up on that a long time ago."

Charlie's wit faltering: "I'm an indestructible Lego! A pain in the ass and impossible to be rid of."

Kate, increasingly frustrated: "You can't keep hiding behind humor, Charlie! You think you're just taking the edge off, you think you're just holding it back, but when it finally hits you, and it will hit you, it will crush you too…"

Their voice cracks and trails as they begin to tear up.

Kate: "I can't watch someone else I love destroy themself."

Charlie looks up at Kate and sees them genuinely upset and close to crying.

Charlie: "...Alright. If you're that worried, I'll lay off."

Kate's slight relief: "And get treatment?"

Charlie, masking smile: "One step at a time. And step one—showering off this hangover."

Kate watches him, still concerned, as he walks to the bathroom.

-

Charlie stands in the shower and stares down at the open cut.

He gets out, dries off, and re-bandages his hand.

-

Kate turns on the TV, sets the remote down on the couch seat, and then walks over to the kitchenette.

On the TV is an older movie, showing a few high school kids talking.

Student-A: "Mr. Hoockle gave me detention and more homework, ugh!"

Student-B: "He sucks! We should get back at him. But how?"

Student-A: "He really likes that ugly car of his."

Kate fixes their coffee, face still grim.

Charlie steps out of the bathroom and looks down at his bandaged hand. He flexes it with a pained grimace.

Kate watches him: "Need some painkillers? I have some in my bag."

Charlie: "Sure."

Kate steps over to their mini bag and picks it up. They pull out a bottle and take out a few pills before they set it back on the couch armrest. As they walk over to Charlie, the bag falls over and onto the remote. The volume on the TV goes up until it reaches max. On the TV, the two teens quietly sneak around the school at night, approaching a lone car.

Charlie fixes a coffee. Kate hands him the pills, and Charlie takes them.

Kate grins: "Want breakfast, maybe pancakes?"

Charlie, flat: "Sure."

Kate's grin drops, and they step away, looking for Charlie's cookware.

Charlie downs the pills with the coffee. Kate gathers and sets a pan, bowl, and spatula on the counter.

fsss… BOOM!

Charlie shrieks, and Kate flinches from the sudden shock. Kate looks at the TV, seeing the two teens cheer over the on-fire car that they just exploded.

Kate walks up, grabs the remote, and mutes the TV.

They turn to see Charlie sinking to the floor, shaking and hyperventilating. Kate rushes up and kneels in front of him.

Kate: "Charlie? Are you alright? Look at me—"

Charlie looks up and sees the murderer lean over him, his own, younger, horrified reflection in the visor, his mouth gagged with a cloth.

Charlie cries out in terror, Kate over him, hands on his arms.

Kate: "Charlie, breathe—"

Charlie's arm is bound to the floor by a leather strap. The floor is littered with whole pages of scriptures. The man grabs his hand and holds it down as he positions the knife over Charlie's fingers. The knife comes down, and Charlie shrieks through the cloth.

Charlie, on the kitchen floor, screams. His left hand stretched out, tense and contorted, Kate holding his face.

Kate: "Charlie! Look at me, please! You're okay—"

Charlie's screams die down to ragged breaths as he makes low, fearful whines, guttural as he chokes.

On the floor, his limbs butchered into pieces, and his abdomen cut through. Blood pools around him. Charlie chokes on blood. The fabric gag has fallen off.

Charlie: "I... D—" Gruk "—ng... …I—" Hrrk "I—Ing—"

Kate hunched over, their hands over their head, afraid and crying.

Charlie, choking: "—Dying…" "I'm.."

The killer steps over him, kneels down by his head, and looks down at Charlie as he places the blade to his neck.

Charlie chokes out one last: "I'm… Dying…"

The blade comes down through his neck, halting Charlie's gurgles. The killer lifts the blade and holds it over Charlie's eyes.

Schlik.

Charlie lies silent and still, eyes unblinking.

Kate: "Charlie?"

Through tears, Kate gently shakes Charlie by the shoulders.

Kate: "Charlie?!"

Kate pulls back, sobbing and shaking as they pull out their phone. Kate puts the phone to their ear.

Ayden: [Hello—?]

Kate: "Ayden, help me, I don't know what to do! Charlie had an episode, and he won't respond!"

Ayden: [Woah, Kate, calm down—uh—Is he breathing?]

Kate, through sobs: "I don't know—he's not moving."

Ayden: [Call an ambulance, I'm on my way.]

Kate: "Okay—"

Kate lowers the phone, ends the call, and dials 911.

Charlie lies flat against the floor, motionless. A dark rubber glove reaches up and gently lays a blood-damp page of scripture on his face.

The killer holds Charlie's paper-covered disembodied head. He lays a final page and carefully shapes it to the contours of Charlie's face. He then places it back onto Charlie's neck, his entire body realigned and held together by the blood-stained paper. He wraps a few more pieces around the neck to join it to the head. The killer pauses, turns his head away, and clenches his fist. He turns back, picks up the knife from the ground, and positions himself by Charlie's head. He kneels and gently but firmly grabs Charlie's head and stabs the knife through the underside of Charlie's jaw, into his skull. He steps back, and a faint glow emits from the knife and spreads to the cuts.

An IV bag in a hospital room.

A medical tray with a few syringes, saline, and a bottle of 'Lorazepam'. With a gloved hand, the nurse picks up the bottle.

The nurse injects the syringe into the line of a second full bag on the IV pole.

Charlie lies on the hospital bed, eyes closed.

Charlie lies in the same position on the ground of the basement, a light coating of dried blood on his now banded body, parchment gone with only a few still scattered on the floor.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks to the side. They widen in horror upon seeing the killer standing at a table with his back turned. The table and adjacent wall are covered in notes, pictures, company documents, and a few printed screenshots of social media profiles, all of the future victims. The blade rests by the killer's side on the table's edge. Charlie very slowly lifts himself up, horrified eyes locked onto the killer, his heart pounding. He slowly stands up and breaks his gaze to glance around the basement. He sees a flight of stairs, then locks his eyes back on the killer. He reaches up a hand to cover his mouth and nose, then slowly and quietly walks towards the stairs. He reaches the bottom of the stairs, breaking his stare to look down as he takes the first step. He glances back once more before he takes another step, then the next. Charlie reaches halfway up. The next one gives off an audible creak as he puts his foot down. He tenses in terror and looks back to see the killer turn to see him.

Charlie is in the hallway, looking back to see a security guard running towards him, the nurse calling out for him.

Charlie's breath hitches—

—and he sprints up the rest of the stairs. The killer runs after him while calling out. Static obscures the memory of his voice.

'C̶͔͚̄̑̓h̶̟͖̩͌͗̒î̸̟͛n̵̢̧͔͛!"

Charlie weaves through the desolate building's dark hall till he reaches a door. He pushes it open—

—runs through the hospital doors and—

—into the woods. Charlie wheezes, branches slap his face, and the killer begins closing the distance behind him.

The killer reaches out and grabs Charlie's left arm. Charlie jerks away, the arm separates, and he tumbles down a narrow hill. With a painful grunt, he lands on a paved road. With a groan, he rolls over and pulls himself up. He looks up to see the killer standing by the ledge with his left arm. The visor shimmers as the killer looks around at the steep, dangerously rocky hill. He turns to run along it. Charlie gasps and runs down the road, wheezing and panting. He reaches a tunnel, stops, and stares at the darkness inside.

"Chîn?"

Charlie, dazed and out of it, stands in the middle of the city street, Anwir in front of him, worried, arms on his shoulders.

Anwir: "—Charlie? Can you hear me? Stay with me—"

Charlie enters the tunnel. He reaches up his right arm and braces himself against the wall as he walks through the darkness. Dazed and in shock, he lowers his head and looks down at his bare, mud and blood-covered feet.

Anwir is at Charlie's right side, holding his extended arm. He gently guides him. Parked a distance behind them is a lone black Toyota.

Charlie steps out of the tunnel and looks up as the morning sun breaks the tree lines. The ranger's truck drives towards him.

The ranger gets out and walks up to him.

The ranger helps Charlie into the truck.

Anwir guides Charlie to his bed.

Charlie sits, dazed, in the police office. Nora kneels in front of him, a comforting hand on his knee.

Anwir knelt by Charlie, a hand on his knee.

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