Chapter 1

A stay at home mother, a perfectionist daughter with an evil split personality and a murderous father ignoring his conscience makes for a killer family.

Prologue:

I'm a witness to unspeakable crimes. A witness to something as cold and ancient as the ice age. The strange thing is we all think it would never happen to us or it couldn't be anyone we know and love. I'm living proof that those little assurances in your head are nothing but words. They have no meaning and no sense of security. They only offer comfort in that one ray of light that's trying to keep the darkness on all sides of your mind from closing in. But like my Grandmother always said where there's a will, there's a way. There is. If light exists, so must dark and you can't keep it away for long. And once you've tasted the sweet if rebellion of the darkness that surrounds you, once back in the light it's hard to avoid it for too long. Like my Father always said; old habits die hard.

Someone I knew very well, at least I would like to believe I did, had a parasite. Not the type that crawls around and pesters you on a nice day on the grass. Not the ones you try and keep as a child because your parents refuse the normalcy of a real pet. He has the type that pokes, scratches and screams inside of your skull until it liquefies every trace of sanity that is left inside of your brain. It started off slow, so slow I couldn't pick up on it until it progressed, until he let it take control and I no longer mattered.

 

 

Chapter One:  J.D. Thomas �" James Darryl Thomas.

Four Months ago.

Blood soaked sheets filled my vision. My body shook from the delicious sight that filled every ounce of my senses. I could smell her, feel her…taste her. I fell to my knees and gripped the carpet. This was better than any sexual interaction I had ever encountered. This was better than my wife. If she knew I cheated…

I don’t think she could call divorce me because I cheated on her with murder. Dark and devious. Murder like the mistress I’ve never had. The rich feel of blood on my fingers better than any diamond I could possibly purchase. The end project better than laying my eyes on my daughter for the very first time.

My child. The one I feared would be like me… With that thought I felt my sanity slowly crawl back. Scratching behind my eyelids and pulling on my strings.

Why did you do this?

“I needed to.” I gasped. “I needed it more than air…”

What about your family? Your career?

“I’ll be fine.”

No you won’t! They’ll find out soon.

“You worry too much.” I scowled at him. My conscious is no longer in my mind, no. He’s a walking, talking annoyance. “Did you forget how often we do this?”

Every few months. Every year at most. Every day at least.

“Wow, Darryl you’re catching on.” I bent to check for evidence. Anything that could link me to this murder. The first few things that are noticed. Hair, nails or even fingerprints. Most of which they would not find due to how short I have cut my hair and the lack of hair loss during my murders. No struggle means no DNA under the fingernails. No sexual interaction means no DNA between her legs or on the sheets. Nothing.

Stop it. Your pride is making me want to make a run for it.

“It’s your pride too, my friend.”

It’ll never be my pride. I’m too…

“Caring? That is your problem, actually. You care too much. You make yourself out to be this saint and you’re not. You’re me.”

No, I’m not.

“Yes you are.” I ran a gloved hand along the woman’s soft, cold skin. She was mine now. Mine. No one else’s.

You know you can’t take a souvenir.

“I always do.”

But it makes the chances of getting caught higher.

“I don’t give a s**t.” I glared at Darryl, my skin boiling. “If only I could kill you.”

You can.

He smiled at this. Because to him it was funny. He wanted me dead, he wanted to be dead. It was better to be dead than to kill; he had always said. But no, I’d rather watch him squirm and get myself off with bloodshed than let him have what he wants. “I think it’s time for a change.”

Good. I was hoping you’d come around. The police station is only a few miles away.

“Not that. We need to move. My daughter is having a bit of trouble with a boy and I know it.”

What boy? She has it made here.

“Troy something. He’s been mowing our lawn for three years now and she’s fallen for him but he won’t give her the time of day so…she’s been taking it out on things. Herself for instance. Just the other day her school called…” I placed a hand on the bed and leaned against the mattress. “She’d kicked some girls a*s. The kid was sent home bleeding. She can’t stay here.”

You can’t move after a murder.

“I know I can’t…But she needs it.”

So…spend some quality time with her. Take her out of school for a few days next week and see if she gets happier. Take a break from murder to look after her.

“That’ll do some good. I’ll also plant the idea of moving in Rosemary’s head before we have quality father and daughter time. That’ll keep her busy.

Build your alibi. Go on.

“I was with my wife tonight. She thinks I’m still in bed. My daughter knows I’m sleeping. She’s probably still working out. When I get home I’ll make It seem she woke me. My wife will wonder where I went and I’ll say with her. With Maria.”

You make my skin crawl.

“I like to do that. Now shut up, I have to work.”

I laid her out on the sheets as if she were a model. Her long curls were splayed out where I had placed her hand above her head, her other covering one breast as if she were self-conscious of her form, her lips were sewn together to keep it from falling open and ruining the entire piece. Her legs were curling at the knees, the satin sheets wrapping around them as if she were an angel. A dead angel. Her eyes were left open, staring at the ceiling where I left one last piece of the painting. The words: ‘Forgive me, I could no longer wait for you.’ In her own blood. Poetic. It would lead the officer’s in a whole new direction.

“West would be proud.”

What’s that? My counterpart asked, circling me. Did you just refer to your novel? Have you really lost your mind. This isn’t fiction! These are innocent lives you are fu�"

I ignored him. Cleaning the area and wiping off any trace that could lead back to me. I’d even made sure there were no holes in the tight covers over my shoes. No footprints. No fingerprints. No cloth. No witnesses. No windows. Nothing. No one could see anything and the entire place had been wiped down from head to toe. I should know, my wife had worked for the police department before we got married. Before she became a lawyer.

You learn from love. You learn how to love, which was my daughter. I no longer loved my wife. Hell, I’d rather kill her than sleep with her. But who am I to break up a marriage when our daughter means so much to me. She’s a part of me and I have to keep her innocence intact. She cannot be like me. Like before…

She murdered the neighbor’s dog over not getting to come with ‘Daddy’ while he ‘worked’. You were so sloppy back then.

“I didn’t know then that hers was based on temper.”

Wasn’t yours when you first started?

“Mom and Dad didn’t know how to raise me. My first wife was a w***e.”

So you moved away from your parents and killed your first wife. How sloppy of you. That almost got you caught.

“No one suspected little innocent James…”

Momma’s boy.

“Exactly.”

What will you do if it turns out that she is like you? Will you train her?

“There’s no need to train her.”

Why not?

“Remember the dog.”

She’d already placed it on the road behind the house….

“Making it look like it had been hit by a truck…”

But the damage she’d done…

“Would have gotten her found out had it not been placed so precisely…”

The blood on the road….

“Nothing that could have just been bled out.”

Do you remember how proud you were of her? How terrified you were for her?

“Yes.”

Where did that go?

“It’s still there.”

But you were contemplating putting a stop to all of this.

“Yes, but I didn’t say I would.”

You took five months off of it.

“Murdered more recklessly when I started back.”

You fell off the wagon.

“Stop distracting me!” I screamed, my hands feeling as though they needed to be broken.  I wanted to. I wanted to break them more than anything. But I had to return home. To family. The one I have tried so hard to keep. An alibi is better than moving around and endangering myself. But Maria is more than an alibi…

You should really stop killing for her. She’s your daughter and you care about her more than your own wife.

“No.”

Why not?

“Because not killing, not doing this..” I motioned around angrily at the bloody mess behind me. “Would put her in danger.”

Of who? The police wouldn’t be such a worry. You’d be able to do a lot more than you’d like. Imagine not having to glance over your shoulder all of the time. Not feeling the need to murder anyone at the door for fear they are police officers. Imagine the life you could give her!

“No! I’d kill her. I would kill her if I stopped. I wouldn’t�"“ I looked down at my gloved hands and I saw it. I could see her blood covering the black latex. Hear her screams echoing on the walls as this victim’s had. Her life drained at my will. When I wanted it…

“I have to go home now…” I stumbled slowly towards the door. My head was swimming at the thought. My inner beast, the one who had taken me over, growled in response to the images…to the thoughts. But fighting against him was taking everything in me. “I’ve fed you now; I get to keep her…”

But how long will that be? How long can you fight off the urge to see her cold dead eyes. How long?

“Forever. As long as I live. She’ll be alive.”

I’m the good one and even I don’t believe that.

We both chuckled at this. But that was enough. I had more urgent things to deal with it. “Are you coming home or?”

Nah. I’m going to stay behind a bit and see if you left anything so I can get some sleep tonight.

“Okay.” But I hadn’t. Nothing was left behind. I knew it. This is something I’m perfect at. Something I pride myself in.

 

The drive home was silent without him. I could think and revel in the masterpiece I had left behind. The roads were fairly empty, apart from the midnight traffic. I drank in each detail of this kill. How I broke in silently, she had never suspected a thing. How I made sure all of her neighbors were away. How I planned every single detail down to what I would wear that night. Right down to what I’d say. It was sweet taking her soul and twisting it into what I wanted it to be. I had plenty of time to torture her into thinking she would go straight to hell once she passed. The fear in her eyes….

Watch out!

I swerved away from a red truck coming straight at me at full speed.

Almost missed out on seeing your little girl.

“Shut up.” I hissed, trying to catch a glimpse of the truck’s license plate in the rear view mirror.  I’d need that should someone start asking questions.

Louisville. Really? They’ll be out of town before day break.

“You’re right.”

Be more careful next time. I want you to kill yourself but not like this. Not in this.

I glanced down at my attire. That was one thing that I enjoyed about Darryl. He loves Maria about as much as I do. Well, he loves her enough to not want her to know about her own father’s secret.

 

The lights were out from the front view of the house. The garage held the scent of me within it. It was where I did everything. Parked my car, wrote for my novels, and even hid my killing clothes. Helps with a bathroom, washer and dryer in there as well. It’s almost like my own small house in here.

I got out of the vehicle, careful not to rip the plastic seat covers and not get blood on the floor. I already had a mat waiting for me. The cleaning process was simple. Very simple. Never leave a trace. Usually I find some creak I can swim in or some small pond, but coming home was always easier on my perfectionist side.

Once finished with the clean-up, I removed the plastic from my seats and burnt it in the furnace.

It looked exactly like I had left it.

She hasn’t been in here. Go on. Back to normalcy.

“You’re holding out for me to be like everyone else, aren’t you?”

Would that make me a bad person?

“Yes.”

And you killing doesn’t?

“No, not at all.” I whispered making my way into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass and poured my regular midnight scotch. “Now, if you don’t mind. I have a daughter to check on.” I pointed towards the ceiling where thuds could be heard coming from upstairs.

Why does she always try and be perfect at everything?

“Because I want that to be her focus. So it is.”

And when she isn’t perfect, how will you explain to the neighbor’s that their dog has went missing or better yet…little girl?

“That will not happen.”

How can you be so sure?

“She’s my daughter.” I stated point blank as I climbed the staircase onto the next floor. The hallway seemed eerie with only her grunts and the thuds echoing off of the walls. Like she was murdering or working on dragging a body to hide from me. This made Darryl panic, but sent chills down my spine. I half wanted to walk in on her with a dead body. Maybe her Mother’s…but if she did. I’d be in trouble. I cannot take care of two killers. She needs to stay innocent.

I pushed on the door that she had cracked open. The thud of it hitting the wall caused her to jump and swirl around. Fast like a killer.

“Daddy!” She called out, her hair in a mess on the top of her head. “What are you doing up this late?”

“I could ask you the same question, pumpkin.” I took a swig of my scotch. She was used to me drinking, she knew I wasn’t going to get drunk.

“Working on my perfectionism. Working to be like you.”

Oh, well looks like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Wait…no blood, no knife. She’s not working that hard, is she?

“I think you’ve long surpassed me.”

Not even by a mile.

“I’m getting better at boxing.”

I nodded, taking another small swig. Trying to ignore Darryl and his annoying remarks. “Yes, you are.”

“Want to see?”

“Of course, pumpkin.”

It was as easy as that to see a bright smile form on her lips, easy as taking a moment just to watch her. She is my daughter, but I’ll never let her be like me.

 

Reviews

[Kaylor Mason]

Cool! I like the part about the main character arguing with the beast within him. I laughed when Darryl said: "Wait, no blood, no knife . . . she's not working that hard, is she?" That line was good.