Two Shadows, One Deadly Fascination!

Chapter 7: Vivian

The moment the knife clattered to the floor, the reality of what I had done began to sink in. My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I stood over Adam’s body. His eyes were still open, wide and frozen in shock, but there was no life left in them. The blood spread across the floor, a dark pool soaking into the cracks of the tiles, mixing with the shattered glass and spilled wine.

I stood still for a moment, frozen in the eerie silence of the kitchen, the only sound the faint buzzing of the overhead light and the distant hum of the refrigerator. My heart pounded, adrenaline still racing through me, but I knew I couldn’t stand there forever. I had to move. I had to act.

This was part of the plan. I had been careful, meticulous, every detail thought out beforehand. There was no room for error. No margin for mistakes.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus, to clear my mind. There was no time for panic. Panic wouldn’t help me now.

I stepped over Adam’s body, careful not to slip on the blood, and made my way to the sink. My hands shook as I turned on the water, the cold rush hitting my palms like a shock to the system. I grabbed a dishrag from the counter and began wiping the blood from my hands, scrubbing furiously as if I could erase the memory of the moment along with the stains.

But there was no erasing this. It was done.

I threw the bloodied rag into the sink and grabbed a new one, dousing it in hot, soapy water. I crouched down beside the table, my knees nearly touching the floor as I started wiping the blood off the tiles. I worked quickly, my movements sharp and deliberate. There was no room for error. I couldn’t afford to leave a single drop behind.

The wine was the next thing to clean. It had splattered across the floor, the deep red liquid mingling with Adam’s blood. I wiped it up with the same cold efficiency, careful not to let my mind wander. I had to stay focused. This was just a task. Just something that needed to be done.

I glanced over at the broken wine glasses scattered near the table. Glass shards were mixed in with the blood, glinting under the dim kitchen light. I carefully picked each piece up, one by one, and placed them in the trash bin beneath the sink. I couldn’t afford to cut myself—couldn’t afford to leave behind any trace that I had been here.

Once the floor was clean, I moved to the counters. I wiped down every surface, even the ones I hadn’t touched. Every inch of this kitchen had to be spotless, free of any evidence that could tie me to what I had done. I grabbed the bottle of bleach I’d brought with me, pouring it into the sink and scrubbing the knife block, the counters, the handles of the cabinets. I wiped down the knife I’d used to kill him, making sure there were no prints, no blood.

My gaze flickered back to Adam’s body, lying in a heap near the table. His face was turned toward me, but his eyes were empty, hollow. There was nothing left in him. The satisfaction I’d felt just moments ago was replaced by a cold, gnawing fear.

Get it together, Vivian.

I straightened up, walking over to his body, and took another deep breath. The next part would be tricky. I couldn’t just leave him here like this. I crouched down beside him, feeling for his pockets. I found his wallet, flipping it open to take out any trace of identification. Credit cards, driver’s license—all of it went into my coat pocket. I wasn’t going to leave anything that would easily identify him. His phone was next. I found it on the counter, already unlocked from earlier when he’d been too distracted to set it down properly. I wiped it clean, then tucked it into my coat with everything else.

As I stood up, the weight of the moment began to settle on my shoulders. I couldn’t leave him here, but moving a body wasn’t exactly easy. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

I cursed under my breath, glancing around the kitchen for something—anything—that could help. My eyes landed on the trash bags under the sink. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. I grabbed two of the heavy-duty black bags, laying them out on the floor beside Adam. With a grunt, I pushed his body onto the bags, wrapping them around him as tightly as I could. The blood seeped through the plastic, but at least it would contain most of the mess.

I dragged him across the floor, careful not to make too much noise, my muscles straining with the effort. His body was heavier than I had expected, and each step felt like it took an eternity. But finally, I made it to the back door, the same way I had entered. I paused, listening for any sounds from outside—footsteps, voices, anything that would suggest someone had seen or heard me.

Nothing.

I dragged Adam’s body out the door and into the yard, my heart racing as I moved toward the shed at the far end of the property. It wasn’t ideal, but it would buy me time. I could deal with disposing of him properly later. For now, I needed to get him out of sight.

Once the body was hidden, I went back inside, my breath coming in short gasps. I was almost done. Almost finished.

I grabbed one last rag and wiped down the doorknob, the light switches, anything I might have touched. There would be no evidence left behind. No trace of me. When the police came—and they would come—they wouldn’t find anything. Not a single clue that pointed back to me.

I stood in the kitchen, my eyes scanning the room one last time, making sure I hadn’t missed anything. The knife was clean, the blood was gone, and Adam’s body was hidden.

I had done it.