A/N: I own nothing.
Chapter 9: Psychotic Girl
A tense air hung about the normally in-tune couple as Eli finally pulled up to the mechanic's garage where Morty was a frequent visitor. Eli sighed to himself as Clare immediately exited the car and slammed the door behind her- causing the crack in the windshield to further spread. He clenched his jaw out of anger and hesitance, opened his door and followed behind in his girlfriend's trail to the front office.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the shop was still open- an aspect that kept Eli coming back to the garage. Of course, he tried to fix Morty as best he could on his own- but sometimes he needed a professional to get the job done.
He joined Clare as she leaned against the front desk with a bored look on her face. He considered saying something snarky to ease the mood, but decided against it. There was no need to piss her off even more, not after what he had seen her do to that deer. Instead, he pounded his hand down on the service bell several times to alert one of the guys in the garage of their presence.
"Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on; I'm coming!" an annoyed voice shouted from the back. Eli kept his eyes forward, not noticing how Clare's brow furrowed as the sound of the voice- it sounded so...familiar to her.
The door to the garage swung open to reveal her brother, Bennett, dressed in a torn jeans and gray t-shirt that looked like it had been used to soak up an oil spill. His eyes landed on her first, causing his eyes to widen and a knowing smirk to spread over his face.
"Hey Bennett." Eli nodded. Bennett's eyes immediately shifted over to the younger man. Clare's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. How in the hell did Eli know her brother? Did he know he was her brother?
"Eli!" Bennett greeted him. "Death-mobile giving you trouble again?"
"Little car accident actually. I hit a deer." Eli shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. "There was some cosmetic damage that I just can't fix on my own."
"Good thing you have me, then." Bennett grinned while wiping his hands on a rag. "Who's your lady friend?" he asked, nodding in Clare's direction. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"This is my girlfriend, Clare," he turned to her, "Clare, this is Bennett. At this point, I think he knows Morty better than I do."
"And I get paid for it too." Bennett added with a smirk. Eli shook his head and slapped his keys down on the front desk. Bennett plucked them up in his hands and opened the door to the garage, sticking his head in.
"Hey Chewy! There's a hearse with some cosmetic damage out front, go check it out for an estimate. " He tossed the keys to the unseen co-worker and turned his attention back to the couple.
"Just go out front and Chewy will asses the damage, give you an estimate and a time-frame, fill out some paperwork." his eyes darted over to Clare, "I can entertain your lady friend while you talk things over with him."
Eli raised his eyebrow as his face tensed up a little bit. He turned to Clare who wordlessly gave him a look that said "just go with it, I'll be fine." He nodded and planted a light kiss on her cheek before heading out the front door. Once the heavy metal door slammed shut, Clare turned to her brother.
"Why didn't you tell me you knew my boyfriend?" she asked accusingly.
"Relax; you're name has never come up before. Hell he never even made any mention of a girlfriend before."
"But you knew he had one." Bennett rolled his eyes, growing bored with the subject fast.
"Moving on, I guess this is the reason you're late for our plans tonight huh?" Clare groaned and slumped against the counter, resting her head in her hands.
"Eli thought it would be nice to rekindle our relationship with a surprise road trip to the middle of nowhere."
"Ugh, spare me the sappy details of your sex life little sister," Clare opened her mouth to protest but he continued without notice, "the reason I wanted to meet with you tonight was to discuss something of great importance."
"Really?" she asked with disappointment, "You just wanted to talk?"
"Not just about anything," he lowered his voice, "I found him."
"Found who?"
Bennett took a deep breath before saying- "I found the man responsible for it all- our mother's death, our suffering and separation, our lust for blood. I found him."
"Seriously? I didn't even know you were looking for him."
"Yeah, I wanted it to be a surprise for your 16th birthday," which was happening in two weeks, "but I just couldn't wait any longer."
"Where is he?" Clare asked while glancing over her shoulder to take a look out the window, ensuring that Eli was still distracted.
"He's been living in Hamilton for the past few years now; even owns a bar."
"And you're planning to..." Clare drawled off- they both knew what he was planning to do to the man who tore their family apart.
"With you. If you'll join me. If not, then I have no hold-ups about going through with it on my own."
"What makes you think I would pass up an opportunity for revenge?" Clare asked, somewhat insulted.
"Absolutely nothing." he grinned. Clare shook her head at his odd behavior and chuckled lightly. "Look, I needed to tell you something else- I won't be around as much in the upcoming weeks. I need to head up to Hamilton to scope out the target's routine, find a good kill spot and formulate an ambush plan."
"And I'm not invited?" Clare asked, definitely insulted.
"It's for your own good. I can't risk something happening if he catches on early. We have no idea what connections, if any he still has." He reached across the counter and grabbed her hand, "I'm just trying to keep you safe, Maya. And it's just for now, once I work out a plan- you'll be included every step of the way. But for now-"
"I'm on my own." Clare finished for him.
"You were on your own for twelve years; what's another 2 weeks?" he reminded her. Clare nodded softly. "Just...do what you want to do, Maya. Make up a lie- head up to the camp for a day and blow off some steam on whoever you find there." His eyes lit up, "wait here- I just had an idea."
"Did it hurt?" Clare called out sarcastically. Bennett gave no reply as he slipped through the door to the garage. She waited for several long moments, tapping her fingers against the counter.
"Here," Bennett's voice rang out as he walked back into the office. Clare lifted her head and yelped as a set of keys came flying towards her face. She caught them just in time. "Use the Challenger to drive up there."
"Seriously? You're trusting me with your car?" she asked with disbelief.
"You're the only person I trust in this world, Maya." he said in a soft seriousness.
Clare looked back up at him, speechless yet appreciative.
"It's better this way. I can't use the Challenger to follow someone- like you said, it sticks out. I'm just going to borrow one of the garage's trucks."
"Thank you." Clare said, genuinely meaning it.
"Don't sweat it." he shrugged, looking out the window. "Now try and act casual, your boyfriend will be in here in five seconds." she quickly shoved the keys into her purse.
Sure enough, Eli walked back into the office followed by a short but broad Hispanic man wearing dark blue coveralls.
"Ready to go?" Eli asked with uncertainty. Clare glanced at her brother one last time before plastering on her most convincing smile and turning to Eli.
"Yeah, let's get out of here." she grasped his hand and began pulling him out the door. Eli gave her a look of surprised appreciation.
"Thanks again Bennett."
"Stay safe!" Bennett called back. Eli chuckled at the older man's words as he draped an arm around Clare's shoulders and led her into the night. However, Clare was aware that Bennett's words were not a sexual joke, but rather a reminder to her about the car, about the kill spot, and about her cover.
For some reason, the idea of killing on her own was daunting and overwhelming. Of course she had slaughtered plenty of dogs on her lonesome; but dogs were dogs. Dogs could be replaced and forgotten.
But people, depending on who they were, couldn't disappear without someone showing concern.
She thought about the other times she had killed- she always had someone with her, to aid her. Earlier in the year, it had always been Shane. In fact, the only person she ever killed on her own was Shane. And she had no intentions of killing her current partner in darkness as he was the only blood she had.
Was it odd that the most connected she ever felt to another person was when they were helping her cut up some poor sap to bits?
Clare knew that there was only one person in the world (besides her brother) who could even be so much as considered as a potential killing partner. The only question was: would he be up for it? Or would he reject her in her hour of need?
Clare sighed in content as she watched the old woman's face grow devoid of all life and blood flow. The only thing left of her was stump of a body connected to head of wild gray hair that looked like it hadn't been washed properly in years. Her limbs lay scattered on the floor, seeping puddles of blood onto the plastic tarp.
The old woman had clearly been crazy- walking barefoot and dazed in the woods by herself. The was no need to be hesitant about choosing her as a victim; from the looks of it she had been in the forest for years. No one would miss her.
"So what now?" a deep voice asked. Clare looked up at Fitz, admiring the way his blood-soaked surgical smock clung to his muscled chest.
"Now we clean." she stated simply, "Clean up the kill room, throw the body into a tub downstairs with some lye."
"Business, huh?" Fitz queried.
"Yep. The fun part is over." Clare said while picking an arm up from the floor and stuffing it into a garbage bag.
"Doesn't have to be." Fitz said with a knowing smirk. Clare looked up to his eyes roaming over her body. A familiar fire started brewing in her lower stomach.
"First things first, Fitzy- mop up this mess while I dispose of the body." she ordered.
"Oh come on, " he groaned. "The body's not going anywhere." he reached out and began massaging her shoulders in effort to distract her from the mess at hand.
"I know that, but still-" she paused trying to think out her reasoning, "it makes more sense to clean up now."
"Why?"
"Because if we put it off to fuck, then there's no telling when we'll get around to it." she said, giving him a knowing look. "You tend to leave me drained of energy."
"In the best way." he grinned. Clare rolled her eyes and tossed a bag of rags at his head.
"Get a move on."
Fitz hadn't been hesitant at all to accompany her to the kill spot. She had feared that by exposing her hidden talents with a knife would drive him away. She had feared that he would see that real her and recoil in disgust. But on the contrary, his eyes lit up in an almost dangerous way when she had told him about her exploits with her brother.
Watching Fitz wield a bone saw with steady hands and an elated smile sparked something within her. It wasn't like the spark she had first felt when growing closer to Eli (that spark had died down to a small poke), but rather as if her shadow self was growing somewhat unrestrained.
She didn't know what it was exactly.
It seemed that her portrayl of Saint Clare was growing less convincing as the summer sped by. Killing a deer in front of Eli was a red flag of this phenomenon. But for some reason, she found it hard to care. Several months ago, a slip-up like that would've sent her spiraling into a nervous wreck- a battle of morality and secrecy raging on in her mind.
In the past, Radnall's voice would sometimes break through her dark thoughts to remind her of what she needed to be for her own protection. But it had been months since she heard the departed man's voice act as her nonexistent conscience. She could feel herself changing, growing wreckless,.
But Clare had no quandaries about stopping; she was slowly learning to embrace change.
He groaned at the feeling of her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders; threatening to draw blood. Fitz lowered his head to the crook of her neck and bit down on the space between her shoulder and neck- hard.
"Ow! Shit!" Clare shrieked, followed by a raspy moan.
"Shut up, you like it." Fitz panted while never stopping the thrusting movement of his hips.
The older boy was currently lifting Clare up by the back of her legs, her back pinned to the wall as he viciously pounded into her.
"You're gonna leave a mark if you keep doing that." Clare shot back.
"I could say the same thing to you and your fingernails."
After Clare had properly disposed of the body, she returned to the kill room only to find that Fitz hadn't done much cleaning at all. Instead, he took the time to smoke a joint while drawing patterns on the blood soaked table with his finger tips.
She should've been angry at his procrastination. Just because they were in the middle of nowhere did not erase their chances of being caught by the police or any law-abiding citizen.
But she was too horny to give a fuck.
After several minutes of fucking her against the wall, Fitz backed up and moved her onto the table that was still wet with blood. He loomed over her and continued his thrusting; the smell of freshly spilled blood did nothing to distract either of them from the current task at hand.
Clare couldn't help but grimace every time Eli used the phrase "make love";it was just so cheesy, so unfitting, and so unattainable for someone like her. But with Fitz, there was no love- only painful pleasure and a spike in adrenaline. It was exactly what she wanted.
"Oh!" she gasped as Fitz hit a sweet spot, deep inside of her. He smirked down at her and hit it again and again until she finally fell apart at the seems with a loud moan. Her hand that had been clenching the side of the table was now thoroughly stained with their victims blood. She reached up and squeezed Fitz's shoulder and flipped them so that she was the one on top.
Fitz could feel the still-warm blood soaking his sweaty back. But any protests quickly flew out the window as Clare began bouncing up and down on his cock. He grasped her hips and pulled himself into a sitting position, burrowing his face into her cleavage. Clare shuddered in pleasure as his warm mouth enveloped her left nipple, but she quickly pushed his head back from her chest.
Fitz shot her a confused look, but his thoughts were soon tuned out as Clare slammed down on his cock one final time, sending him into climax. Once the boy beneath her stopped shaking, Clare rose up on her knees, hissing slightly as she discontented herself from Fitz, who fell onto his back in exhaustion, ignoring the blood-soaked status of the table.
Clare pulled the condom of his now limp member and tossed it into one of the empty trash bags.
She turned around, and looked at Fitz, who was currently propped up on his elbows grinning at her.
"You look hot. Red is definitely your color." he nodded. Clare glanced down at her body; her knees, shins, and back were covered in blood.
"I could say the same to you." she retorted before picking a mop from the floor and tossing it to him without warning. "Now clean this mess up."
Fitz rolled his eyes, but took the mop without complaint. He pulled on his boxers and grabbed bucket from under the table. "I just need to fill this up and take a leak first." he said while making his way to the door. He stopped suddenly and turned around.
"Hey is there a-"
"There's a shower downstairs. The only temperature are cold and arctic; but it works." Clare answered. Fitz nodded and walked out the door.
Clare looked at the table, staring at the pools of blood and the marks her and Fitz had left behind. She dipped her finger in the warm liquid and brought it to her lips, smearing it over the delicate skin as if it were everyday lip balm.
The coppery taste permeated onto her tongue and through her nostrils. Clare breathed in deeply before running her touge over lips in a slow circle, all while gazing at the liquid remeants of her last victim and contemplating her next.
