Jack. Day Four - 19:43

His face looms at me through the darkness; those bright eyes, a beacon in the pitch black that engulfed the room. He made no acknowledgement to the fact that I'd noticed him, sitting there, smiling at me, but I knew he knew. Alex was clear like that; stupidly clever and stupidly murderous. In other words a dreadful combination. A dreadful combination was of course the only thing that could accidentally concoct someone so perfect looking as Alex Gaskarth.

I had no idea how long he had been sitting there for and for what purpose? Even God could only begin to imagine. Alex's mind was definitely something extraordinary, similar to Einstein's and if he just cut loose on the murder and kidnap and god knows what else, then maybe he'd be somewhere. Maybe he'd be the man I got taught about in history class rather than the man I got warned about in social studies. It was rather saddening how he'd put his knowledge, his power to such a waste. And for the first time I began to feel sorry for him. Then I really knew I was starting to lose it, but Alex, Alex was different from your average murderer - I should stop using that term so casually; I think he was having a rather disturbing effect on me.

20:06

"Do you believe in monsters, Jacky?" The first words he'd spoke in this enigmatic silence, darkness cloaked around me at such tightness fierce enough to cut off my air supply; the first words were irrelevant. The first words were the words of a madman; there was no explanation just, just a question. "Answer the question and then I'll turn the light on." To be honest, the constant state of darkness was beginning to unsettle me more than a little; however I pushed it aside, the rational part of my brain deciding that maybe the serial killer sat feet away from you was a bigger priority. It was weird, because lately I was beginning to get more comfortable around Alex, maybe even trust him. Because, try as my ignorant mind might, I just couldn't imagine those deep brown eyes killing me. I couldn't imagine Alex slashing at my throat, or putting a gun to my head, or anything along those horribly morbid lines. I just couldn't think that Alex Gaskarth would end up killing me.

I'm taking a shot in the dark here, but I don't think he intends to either.

Part of me thinks that he just wants me to think he will; part of me thinks that he just wants me to be scared of him.

I don't think he likes to kill. I just think he gets bored and when some people get bored they watch cat videos, or knit, or give in and write their seven point evidence explain paragraph history essay on the causes of the English Civil War that they really should be doing right now, but Alex is different, his brain I think, works differently, because when Alex is bored none of the above will satisfy him and I think, when Alex is bored, he turns to murder. How many empty seconds before he pulls the gun out though? How long do I have? Is there even a specified grace period or is this all just Russina Roulette? I don't know and I think that's what Alex enjoys most - being clever.

The answer is plain and simple - I have to keep him entertained, because he's messing his life up like this; you can't fix your life by ending another. God just doesn't let it work like that, not that I was really one for religion anyway. But science doesn't really fit the bill; karma isn't exactly a scientific theory, to put it lightly.

"I know you don't like sitting here in the dark, Jacky." I nodded- no, that was too boring. Entertain him, Jack, entertain him. Do you want to live?

"No, I don't." I paused, his features pulled up into a creepy grin as I responded and I instantly knew my tactics were working. The grin disgruntled me of course, but there were things I was going to have to get used to if I wanted to keep breathing and keep seeing those brown eyes of his, that I definitely shouldn't adore as much as I do.

"Then answer my question." I heard him inhale slowly and from my mind's eye I saw him sat there, slowly sucking all the air out of room until I suffocated- no. That would be far too inefficient; if he wanted to suffocate me then he'd use air vents, pumping toxic gas into the room, slowly at first and then as the gas infiltrated my lungs, it would come all at once and finish me off. However, suffocation was hardly the most entertaining method of killing someone and knowing him I know he'd prefer to do it personally; a knife, a gun, a whip, his fists. He doesn't care, he just wants to make sure it's him who slashes my neck, who puts a bullet through my heart, who rips my organs apart, who lands the final, lung crushing blow. Alex likes things to be personal; he likes to get to know people, he wants to know if they're interesting enough, if they're worth his time.

"Tell me, Jacky. Do you believe in monsters?" The words drift gracefully into the silence.

I had no clue how to respond to the rather absurd question he'd fired at me. What was he expecting and more importantly how the heck was he going to use this information? Or maybe he was just insane and I was being hit by a madman's ramblings... or maybe I was just insane and I was hallucinating the whole ordeal? Hallucination certainly had its pros: this wasn't real, Alex wasn't a killer and more importantly - it'd all stop.

No, it's real. Everything feels far too real. Even I, couldn't imagine something as messed up as this. Or at least I was hoping so, for my sanity's sake at least. However, I wasn't exactly sure that being locked up with Alex was very good for my mental stability.

"I'm waiting, Jacky." And now, I start to get scared, because he's starting to get impatient, he's starting to get bored and bored is most definitely a bad thing. Bored, for Alex Gaskarth, is a very bad, very murderous thing.

"No," I sighed, "I don't believe in monsters." I don't believe in monsters, because underneath the murder, the kidnap, the knives, the insanity, Alex Gaskarth is still human. It's not the words, it's not how you act, it's not who you are, it's not what you look like that defines it, it's the blood pumping through his veins, it's the air he breathes into his lungs, it's the brain that sends signals and it's the essence, it's the sentience. And even in his savage, psychotic frame, there's sentience, no amount of psychopathy can take that away. Or at least I hoped so. I hoped that his barely beating heart still held any emotion of some kind. I was scared it couldn't and that he'd switched off that function many years ago. I hoped I could switch it back on. Or maybe he'd even ripped the switch right out of its socket, leaving it to electrocute anyone who tried to function it.

Then it hit me: the reason for my answer.

I don't believe in monsters, because Alex Gaskarth is human.

"That's rather stupid of you." I didn't react to his statement and simply listened as he got up and flickered the light back on. I ignored the blinding sensation as the light rays penetrated my eyes and focused on his instead. Those brown eyes. I'd never been so happy to remind myself that they exist. I like his eyes, I think it's because his eyes are the most human. His eyes carry the real smile, not the psychopathic grin on his lips; his eyes looked sad with who he was, but happy to see me and that was the only reassurance I needed, that Alex wasn't a broken switch; he was fully functioning, if not a little rusty.

He sat back down in the now lit room, but closer to me this time. Adjacent and only about a metre away sat Alex and his gun. Alex had a gun today. Pushed casually into the front pocket of his jeans as if it was a cell phone and not a weapon that could end someone's life with a single pull on the trigger. Alex is like that he can't appreciate or even begin to understand the importance that comes along with shooting that bullet, pulling that trigger and removing an innocent person from reality. I wonder if Alex even knows just how real, just how devastating and just how much all of this, his every action, matters.

"You've noticed it, haven't you?" His face turned up into a morbid smile, "you've noticed the gun." I gulped, making no attempt to muffle it, because I knew he liked it, I knew he liked the fear and the goose bumps on my arm in the fully heated room.

"Yeah," the word comes out shakily, my eyes fixated upon the weapon in his jeans. I then look up into those eyes, those human eyes that calm me down considerably. "Can I ask you something?" The words cautiously slip from behind my lips and I wonder if I ought to spend the next few moments regretting them completely.

He looks excited, far too excited. "Yes, of course. In fact I'd be delighted to know what's going on in that brain of yours, what you think about me. Go on, ask ahead." He paused and grinned, "the more the better." That sounds horribly dangerous, then again I do believe that is practically Alex's tagline. Along with 'murderous psychopath with lovely eyes', of course; I couldn't forget that one, now could I?

"Is the answer to this blindingly obvious or..." I took a deep breath, "why do you have that gun?" He chuckled a little and I shivered, edging back into the wall, figuring I'd excited him a little too a much and that maybe he'd run full circle, excitement edging him to kill me just as much as bored would. Maybe I'd have to even things out, be the balancing weight on the other side of the scales, because somehow for some reason I felt responsible for Alex, I felt responsible for those stupidly perfect brown eyes that I couldn't, just couldn't get out of my head. Eyes, even perfect eyes shouldn't make me overlook hundreds of dead bodies that sickeningly most likely lay somewhere in this house. Maybe right above my head, or even below my feet? I had no clue and I figured Alex wouldn't exactly like it if I asked such a direct question.

"Does it scare you, Jacky?" His tone isn't patronising or even creepy for once, it actually sounded like he cares; now I think I'm going mad. "It's just a gun, it's harmless as long as I don't fire it." And that was the exact reason why I didn't trust him with a gun, I didn't trust him not to just fire it out of the blue, because he was bored and wanted a reaction, something exciting, an explosion maybe. Or maybe just another dead body. Maybe I'd be hung on a wall somewhere. Or simply fed to god knows what. There'd be no gravestone bearing my name; I wondered if I even had a police file, if there was even a case open at all. It certainly didn't feel like it and that was slowly wearing away at me.

 "Yes," I sighed, "as long as you don't fire it being the key phrase there." He chuckled and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes overly dramatically. It was weird, because I almost had to remind myself to be careful, to remind myself how many people he'd killed. And remembering that was even weirder, because Alex didn't feel like a psychopath, he felt like my best friend.

"Hmm... I don't think I will. We had a break in this morning." I spit the breath I was inhaling out all over him. He just casually dropped that on me? Of course he would've, to a murderer, I guess a break in was like tripping over the bottom step as you rushed downstairs in order to get ready on time.

"What kind of break in? A police break in? A robbery break in? I don't even know where we are and who you consider by we-" I'm in a frenzy by now and Alex's far too calm tone certainly wasn't helping.

"Shush, Jacky." He reached out and patted me in an awkwardly affectionate way on the knee. "It's fine. We're in my house, it's rather large don't you think? There are an awful lot of rooms and it definitely feels better having you in one of them. It was just some petty burglar. I took care of him. The police aren't interested in us." That hit me hard; straight in the balls.

The police aren't interested in us.

I'm unsure whether to be overjoyed, or take the gun from his pocket and shoot myself directly through the skull. Morbid I know and no doubt he'd stop me, wanting the honour himself. Narcissistic son of a bitch.

"Wait, what do you mean took care of him?" I knew what he meant, I just didn't want to think about it, and another bullet put in someone's skull, once again by Alex Gaskarth. It was certainly wearing away at my sanity.

"What do you think the gun was for?" I shrugged.

"Oh." He shot someone, just this morning and now we're having a conversation, a calm, normal (well as normal as it gets) conversation. This whole ordeal was messed up, well more messed up than it should have been.

"Don't worry, Jacky." He shuffled closer to me. "Lots of people have them." I felt uncomfortable, with his hand and that trigger centimetres away from me, but of course, I daren't voice my concerns - he'd be more than furious.

"I know, it's just- Alex," It's the first time I've spoken his name aloud since Joe's party and I already feel a wave of sickness rising in my stomach, because he's not just some killer anymore - I've humanised him. I've made him real. "It's just most people don't use them so frequently, most people don't murder people." Is this all a game to him? How can he not grasp the fact that he's ending the lives of innocent people, with families, children, friends and jobs? Just because he's bored. I'm glad I'm here to entertain him: someone has to.

"I know." He replied all too calmly. "I'm just not most people." That was for certain, if anything was anymore in this messed up hellish mayhem.

"I know." I sighed. "If you were most people, I wouldn't be here right now." And that shouldn't upset me, because if Alex was normal I probably would have never seen him again, but if Alex was normal I would be free. But part of me was glad, stupid, reckless and glad that I was normal, that I wasn't free, that I was with Alex, because he was lonely and quite certainly, he needed someone. That issue was not debatable. He needed someone to sort him out and tell him when to put the gun down; I just had to get him to trust me first.

"It's foolish not to believe in monsters, Jacky, because some of them are very real." He referred to the first words he spoke into the darkness. He had this weird mind that only seemed to believe in irrelevance and psychotic tendencies, but I liked it. The way Alex thought was interesting, yet incredibly concerning at the same time. I should be more worried about that gun than him, but I was really in a terrible mess already, so I pushed it aside and let myself fret over those brown eyes. I let myself care about Alex Gaskarth and not what he'd do to me.

"Are you talking about yourself or my family?" Honestly, I had no clue and I wasn't exactly quite sure which was worst. I began to wonder if he even knew my brother or just turned up at his party in the mess of people out of blue, armed with his mad grin and irrestible charm and most likely a gun in his back pocket. Alex definitely seemed like the kind of guy to religiously never leave the house without a weapon, but for very different reasons than most people. Alex's gun wasn't for self-defence, it was for self-entertainment.

"Neither." He paused I'm talking about the things you see in the corner of your eye, the things you don't quite see, because Jacky monsters are everywhere - you just have to figure out who they are." I remained silent, just staring at him, "you don't believe me, Jacky, but listen here. When you dream, your mind can't make up faces so it uses the ones you've seen: the guy you sat next on the train; the lady who was in front of you in the queue; the girl that served you at Starbucks; the boy that you helped up in the street." I nodded. "But think about the nightmares, Jacky. Who do you have nightmares about? What do you have nightmares about? Because, like or not, you've seen those faces too."

"Surely I'd remember." I don't quite want to believe what he's saying, because quite frankly, it terrifies me. Terrifying people appeared to be one of Alex's rather prominent strong points and I wasn't exactly sure how to react to that other than to take it as it comes and trying to apply a substantial amount of sanity to this insane situation.

"Hmm... that's what you think. But maybe your mind decided otherwise, because you can remember, you just don't want to."

"Monsters are as real as you and I, Jacky. And like it or not, monsters are just like you and I. Jacky."

Heyy guys:) Thank you all for reading; you're all lovely, beautiful people. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it and I'd really love it if you left a comment and/or a vote if you enjoyed this chapter as I really appreciate it:3