Sick

shley sat in the open field, hair blowing slightly across his face with the gentle, cool breeze.
The sky was illuminated by the glow of the moon that reflected off of the dark blanket that was the night sky. Seemingly small sprinkles of light twinkled overhead, only adding to the beauty.
Night time was beautiful. It was peaceful, serene; it was calming. Despite the fact the air was slightly cooled and crisp against Ashley's face, it managed to melt away his stress.
Everyone thought night stood to represent the bad; the evil that sadly inhabited the world. The 'devils play-time,' as his aunt had once reprimanded him after discovering him outside during the ungodly hours of the morning. That wasn't true. Not to Ashley.
Night time was when the spirits roamed; when they felt most comfortable to make themselves known to the living. There were all types of spirits. There were shy ones, loud ones, talkative ones, obnoxious, rowdy, troublesome, devious. There were sad ones, happy ones, angry, scared. Some even didn't even speak at all, but Ashley knew they were there.
He could feel their presence in the air.
There were spirits everywhere; but no devil. Unless, perhaps, the devil they were alluding to were the mortals that abused their physical nature. The criminals.
At the current point in time, it just so happened that there was one at large; a serial killer. Every week, a new victim was found dead in their bed. Stabbed three times in the gut, left to bleed out, yet the killer had tucked them into their bed neatly. The only connection that could be found was that every victim was male. Nothing else. They were all different weights, heights, ethnicity's, religions. Nothing was the same.
That was the fascinating thing to Ashley. Even though any sane person couldn't find the correlation, the killer, sick and deranged, was able to connect even the smallest things if they wanted to. No one but them could make sense of it.
The recent killings were the reason why Ashley was in the empty field; the very field where he had discovered who he really was. This was where he had become at peace with himself and with the spirits that spoke to him.
Ashley was what people would call a psychic. He preferred the term 'medium.' Psychic was too closely affiliated with people just trying to get a bit of money off of gullible dumb asses at the fair or something.
For so long, he had suppressed the urge to come back. He just wanted to live a normal life, but right now he needed help...
"Well, look who it is..."
Ashley glanced up and smiled faintly at the translucent figure before him. Only he could see them, and part of that made Ashley feel special.
"Hey, grandma." He said softly.
"How've you been, sugar plum?" She smiled, sitting beside him. "Got a boyfriend, I see. An old-fashioned one, too."
Ashley frowned. "How could you tell?"
"He gave you a locket. Looks like it maybe belonged to his mother." She shrugged.
Ashley touched the heart-shaped locket resting against his chest fondly and smiled a little, nodding. "Yeah. His name is Andy... I met him a few years ago at college and we've been together ever since. He's really sweet."
His grandma smiled. "You haven't visited for so long..."
Ashley's smile faded. He shifted, moving his legs up to his chest.
"Ashley, what is it?" Her smile faded as well, concern evident.
"There's... There's these killings..."
"And you want to try to contact the spirits of the victims? Ashley, honey, that's difficult. You know that. You don't even know if they're in the spirit world, they might have moved on. Don't burden yourself with this."
Ashley cringed. "Grandma, no, it's not- I think whoever it is is.. following me."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, they've.. mostly been around the area where I live, and I guess I didn't think much of it until Andy and I moved back to Cincinnati last month and now they're starting again there and- I'm scared." He whispered into his knees. "I just needed to get away for the weekend."
His grandma frowned deeper. "And... yeah. See if I could contact some of them and figure out who it is."
"That isn't safe-"
"I know it's not, but I need to know." He bit his lip.
She nodded and stood. "I can't help you, Ashley. But you can try a seance to contact the spirit realm. Do you remember how?"
Ashley stood as well, brushing some grass and dirt from his jeans. "Yeah... I do." He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Thanks."
"Be careful, sweetheart." She whispered, smiling sadly. "I hope you figure this out."
"I will." He smiled weakly and walked back across the field to the barbed wire fence. He crawled underneath it and got back to his car, which was parked in the ditch of the old, empty dirt road.
Upon arriving home, he set up the seance in the living room. Andy was at his dad's funeral that weekend and wouldn't be home until the next morning. Ashley insisted to go with, but Andy instead told him he'd rather go by himself. Ashley could understand. It was hard for Andy to go to that.
When Andy was fifteen, his dad had been drunk driving and crashed the car, paralyzing his dad from the waist down and killing his mom instantly. Andy was lucky to walk away with only a broken bone... His dad had been in the hospital for the past few months after drinking himself into a coma. For some reason it took nearly ten years for him to be hit with guilt. The sick bastard never even owned up to it entirely, he blamed it on the thunderstorm they had been driving through.
Andy never forgave his dad, and Ashley didn't blame him. Who would?
Despite the rough circumstances, it gave Ashley the house to himself. He sat on the carpet and carefully lit the candles, making sure they didn't tip over or blow out as he got himself situated to begin. He had gathered a picture of each of the seven victims, laid out in order by the candles. He closed his eyes and held his hands out, palms up, as he began to speak quietly.
The room filled with a handful of presences, not quite seven, but a few. They were here.
"What do you want." The strongest hissed at him. Ashley didn't flinch; he was used to aggression and hostility.
"I'd like to ask you some questions." He replied calmly.
"What good will I do for you? I'm dead, you dimwit."
Ashley sighed heavily. "Can you tell me who killed you?"
The spirit silenced. None of the other few spoke, either. He felt the stronger of the group drift to one of the walls. Ashley opened his eyes and turned his head to follow where he sensed it was going and frowned deeply.
"What is it?"
Again, no reply. The spirit angrily tore a picture from the wall, the shattering of the glass frame startling him. He stood to go examine the damaged photo, horrified to lift it and see it was the photo of Andy.
It was from last summer... They had taken a trip with a few college friends and someone had gotten a picture of Andy by the fire, acoustic guitar perched on his leg. Ashley wasn't in the picture, at that time he was behind the camera getting some more firewood. But he still remembered that weekend so well. One of the best trips he'd ever taken, mostly because he got to spend it with the love of his life.
"It's him."
The cold voice ripped through Ashley's thoughts suddenly, causing him to drop the picture again.
"Who- Andy? No, that isn't possible. That's ridiculous." Ashley shook his head, heart pounding.
"You'd think I'd lie to you about the bastard that murdered me?!"
Shit, they were getting angry now.
Ashley said nothing, sitting down on the couch. The spirit scoffed.
"He's here. He's coming." The weaker of the bunch whispered, just as the front door opened. The spirits all disappeared at once, candles blowing out simultaneously.
Ashley's head snapped up as the light was turned on, temporarily blinding Ashley from the sudden change from darkness to bright lighting. Once the spots cleared from his vision, he saw what appeared to be his boyfriend leaning against the door, head in his hands. But something was off.

"No... No... I didn't... I said I wouldn't... I can't..." Andy's voice was quiet, muffled, but yet clear. It was nonsensical rambling, but he seemed genuinely distraught.
"Andy? Baby, what's wrong?" he stood, taking a few steps before being startled by Andy suddenly snapping his head up. Andy's baby blue eyes were bloodshot and wild, assumable from adrenaline. His face bore a grim expression; he looked drained. "Is that- Oh my god. Andy, are you bleeding?!" Ashley rushed over to him and lifted his hand, which appeared to have a nasty cut across the palm.
Andy said nothing to him, looking dully over his shoulder at the seance set up. His chapped lips twisted upwards into a slight, proud smirk.
"You're missing one..." He drawled. Ashley frowned and followed his gaze, seeing the printed out photos.
"What?"
"There are eight, now... You only have seven..." Andy exhaled. Ashley froze, slowly stepping away from Andy.
"They were right...?" Ashley whispered in terror, staring.
"Who was right with what, babe?" Andy hummed, walking past him to the kitchen. Ashley followed, watching as he washed the cut in the kitchen sink.
"The spirits. They told me you..."
"Spirits?" Andy mused. "Ashes, I think you've been watching too much Ghost Whisperer." He chuckled fondly and turned off the faucet.
"I'm a medium, Andy, and they told me you killed them. You're the killer. You're the one who's been- Oh my god, you killed people." Ashley stepped back, heart pounding and a lump in his throat. He wanted to scream, but he also wanted to run into Andy's arms and hide forever.
He wanted this to all be a sick, twisted nightmare...

"Some things are better left alone, Ashes..." Andy sighed heavily, cleaning his hands on the towel. "I really wish you would have listened to me when I told you not to worry about it." He snapped his gaze towards Ashley, and this time, instead of the soft, loving puppy dog gaze he knew and loved, it was the gaze of a cold-blooded killer.
Ashley ran from the kitchen, stumbling up the stairs. Andy laughed and opened a drawer, taking a small steak knife from the collection and catching up to him with ease.
"Aw, c'mon, Ashy. I don't like hide and seek." He cooed.

"You're sick, Andy!" Ashley whimpered, peeking out from the bathroom. "You need help! You need to tell someone, please!"
Andy's head snapped in his direction. "I'm sick?" His face twisted up in disgust. "What about my father? He was sick too, wasn't he? And he didn't get any god damn help! He got fucking pity!"
"What the hell does this have to do with your dad? Andy, this is about you! This is about those innocent men you killed!" Ashley shouted at him.
Andy wrinkled his nose. "Innocent? Do you know why I killed them, Ashley?"
Ashley swallowed thickly, incredibly scared to look away from his approaching boyfriend.
"I waited for them outside the community center... Every Thursday night at 9." He breathed, backing Ashley up against a wall. "I watched them all file out... and I would pick the one that lingered in the parking lot or in his truck to take a swig of a beer, or a drag of a cigarette."
"What? Why the community center?" Ashley frowned, trying to keep his voice steady.
Andy rolled his eyes. "Alcoholics Anonymous."
Ashley said nothing, at a loss for words.
"They were fucking alcoholics, Ashley. They weren't fucking innocent men, they were poisoning themselves. Their loved ones. They were toxic and I put them out of their misery before they hurt anyone else."
Ashley licked his dry lips. Somehow it all made a bit of sense... Not entirely, but it made enough sense for him to try and talk to Andy.
"They weren't your father, Andy." Ashley breathed. Andy straightened up, expression showing that he wasn't expecting to be challenged.
"Excuse you?"
"You killed them because you thought they were like your dad, right?" Ashley bit his lip. He was taking such a huge risk... "There's something you missed, Andy... They were trying to get better and fix their lives... They were really trying..."
"What? No. No they weren't. You're wrong." Andy stood back and shook his head, turning away.
"It's true, Andy! Some of them had scheduled to go into rehab, even. Your dad never admitted he had a problem. He drank himself to fucking death, and these men that you killed... They were trying. They had families and friends, and you took them away. Andy, they were nothing like your dad..."
Andy turned his head to meet Ashley's eyes, and for a split second he saw a flicker of his gentle lover.
"Andy... I love you..." Ashley breathed. "Please, don't do this to yourself... I love you..."
Ashley was suddenly shoved off of the wall by Andy, thrown violently into the bathroom. His head met the edge of the counter with a sickening crack, but no noise left Ashley's lips. Simply a gasp of shock that soon became his last breath.
Andy buried his face in his lovers still chest, sobbing brokenly. "Shut up! Just shut up!" He screamed. "You don't get it, no one gets it! No one understands!"
There was no response. When Andy realized that Ashley hadn't fought back, he lifted his eyes, gazing upon the still face of his former lover. It suddenly dawned on him that he had thrown Ashley too hard, as he saw the blood soaking the rug that Ashley's head rested on.
"No... No, no, no, Ashley, baby, no... Wake up, Ashley, please." Andy whispered, lifting him to cradle the limp body in his arms. "I love you, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it... Please, I'm sorry..."
He laid his forehead against Ashley's gentle. "Ashley... please..."
The sound of sirens caught Andy's attention a bit. He looked up, seeing blue and red flash through the window with his blurry vision. On the edge of the counter was Ashley's phone, set on the screen that showed his recent call history. The top of the list was a call to 911.
Andy looked back at Ashley's lifeless body and smiled a bit. "I'm coming, sweetheart... Just hold on." And with that the steak knife Andy had held in his hand was driven through his chest as far as it would go. There was a brief period of unbearable pain and agony, but that was expected as it wasn't supposed to be painless to just casually stab yourself in the heart, now was it?
By the time the emergency respondents had arrived on the scene, Andy was gone as well. Not physically; spiritually.
He had joined Ashley in the spirit world.
"You didn't have to do that."
Andy turned his head to see a shy, smiling Ashley behind him.
"Of course I did... I deserved it." Andy whispered, pulling him into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Ashley."
Ashley shook his head and slid his arms around him as well.
"Don't be... We can start over here." Ashley breathed. "We'll be together forever, now. Just like we planned."

Notes

sorry ?