Tim watched his dad look through the Book of Chaos. Jim chuckled suddenly, and pulled out his phone. What on Earth is he up to now? Tim thought. His father, with a triumphant smile, announced that his acquaintance by the name of Jarrett was coming over. Tim knew he was up to something. He knew his father was trying to cheer him up, just not what exactly the man had in mind.
Jarrett arrived at the Pickens household. Tim watched as Jim lured him into a false sense of security, perfectly suppressing his urge to laugh out loud at whatever scheme was in his head. Tim was proud of his dad; Jim was a master manipulator.
"Say, I've been reading the most fabulous book," Jim told Jarrett, "May I read you a passage?"
"Sure!" the visitor replied, totally unaware of what was about to happen.
Jim read the passage out loud, and Jarrett suddenly felt cold. Before he could even shiver, he was enveloped in ice, a perfect human sculpture. Tim clapped his hands excitedly. Jim laughed aloud at the suffering he had inflicted on his victim. His maniacal laughter could be heard by the human trapped inside the ice. Tim eagerly took notes. This test was their best one yet! It had yielded fantastic results, and the subject appeared to be surviving so far. They were pushing the limits of what was survivable. The information they gathered would contribute to a long-term effort to keep his father alive and youthful.
With a giggle, Jim cracked the ice open. Jarrett nearly collapsed at the sudden lack of support from his solid prison. He shivered and was alarmingly pale.
"You okay, buddy?" Jim asked.
"Hell no," Jarrett responded, "I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"Eh, suit yourself."
Still, they craved more testing, wanting to see the limits of Jim's newfound power. They had decided to actually kill a test subject. A male from the basement was selected. This particular man was the son of two of Jim's slaves. He was horrified by the conditions they were living in. However, now that he knew what fate had befallen his parents, it was now time for him to meet our Lord and Savior Kevin. Tim said a silent prayer for him out of a twisted form of respect.
Jim used the Book of Chaos. He vanished, leaving the test subject confused. Suddenly, he reappeared right in the man's face. The poor man immediately died of a heart attack. Jim bowed, relishing the results of his deadly performance.
Death appeared to reap the deceased man's soul. Tim noticed the way his father was looking at Death, his expression filled with longing. Jim obviously wanted to become one with the Grim Reaper. Death was clearly uncomfortable with this. They were shocked. They had managed, somehow, to make Death uncomfortable! Perhaps this had something to do with the fact that Jim was engraving "Next time, be the good twin," on the dead man's urn. Death sighed and disappeared into the ether just as quickly as he had arrived. Jim frowned in sadness.
The other slaves were very saddened by the death of one of their own. Tim tried to comfort them, but they were inconsolable. He could tell that they were beginning to dislike their master. They were alarmed by the callous murder that had taken place in front of them. Horror swept through the basement. Would this happen again? Who was next? Seeing that nothing would soothe them, Jim tried a more aggressive approach that his son had to get them to be productive again. He placed the new urn on a table as a warning that bad behavior would lead to certain death.
"Come on, make a sad painting or something. Earn me some money," Jim ordered.
"But master, how can we paint when someone just died right in front of us?" a female slave cried.
"Do you want to end up like him?" Jim retorted, pointing at the urn, "If you don't, you'll make me some profit."
"Yes, master. We'll get on it right away. But we're all wondering, will this happen again?"
"I don't know," Jim answered with a hint of existential dread. He left the prisoners in silence. Everyone was too terrified to utter even a single sound.
No one upstairs minded the sudden death, of course. Had they minded, they wouldn't be worthy of residing near Jim. Tim delightedly ate his dinner, admiring the story his father told. The test had gone swimmingly! He was proud to be his father's son. Perhaps one day, he would take up the mantle and continue the serial killer legacy of the Pickens line.