So here is the story of Grayson Freeway, the murderer. This is just a background chapter - filler chapter, thus chapter 14.5.
Anyways, what did you guys think of chapter 14? Cuh-ray-zay!
Don't be shy to leave a review or anything else! 'Cause I'm really curious and wonder what you guys are thinking.
Chapter 15 will be posted tomorrow! (:
Grayson Freeway was a 32 year old man, living alone in the basement of mute lady who needed more than the amount she receives in welfare.
He had a family. Sebastian and Elizabeth Freeway, a couple still in love after 50 or so years, and a couple that loved their son so much. But one day, Elizabeth disappeared. And then 4 months later, the private investigator the two men had hired returned. With a bagful of photos. Apparently Elizabeth had run away with a younger man with whom she was having an affair for the past 2 years.
The next worst day of his life was when he came home and found his father with a bullet through his head, blood and brain splattered behind him, a gory masterpiece on the coral pink wall. He could smell the stench of alcohol and death.
At first, Grayson blamed his mother for his father's death. That selfish whore abandoning him and his father. The hatred consumed him and he planned of ways to punish her and her lover – kill them – for the anguish she had inflicted. But then the blame diminished after discovering that his father used to be a member of an alcoholics anonymous back when they used to live in San Francisco.
And so that's who he blamed.
The fucking therapist with his goddamn degree from Harvard.
The other pathetic recovering drunks claiming to be his father's friend but hitting the bar at the end of every meet.
Grayson was kicked out of his house, given only 2 days to pack. He stuffed all the sentimental values into his bags – his dad's trumpet, the photograph of the two of them holding a line with a trout at the end – and burned everything that reminded him of his mother.
The last room he cleaned out was the attic. And that's where he found them. The coins. The coins with some strange, medieval markings. He didn't think much of them since his dad was a devout numismatists.
But he did think it ridiculous to have a huge chest filled with those coins, almost brimming to the top.
Just to humor himself, just to honor his father's memory, he did some research.
And what he found was… remarkable.
A simple, yet complex plan started to form immediately in his head. Vengeance. Revenge. Whatever. As long as the people who killed his father were punished, he didn't care.
He spent weeks filing down the carvings and ridges, making the coins smooth and flat. Then he painted them, etched on them, redesigning all 1023 cursed coins into 1023 sobriety coins.
He switched the coins, replacing the real ones with the fakes, and waited for 3 days, watching and listening to the news, praying that everything he worked on was succeeding.
When the first death happened, it was like a breath of fresh air. Then the second, then the third, then the twenty seventh.
But then something happened that he was not prepared for. As everyone in the alcoholics anonymous group died, the curse spread as the fakes ended up being distributed to other anonymous groups. Up and down the entire west coast.
When it first started, he panicked. He didn't mean for it to get out of hand. But the feeling of regret quickly got extinguished.
After all, they were all the same. Alcoholics, druggies, sex addicts, abused people… All sniveling, worthless animals who deserve to be punished. Because if it weren't for people like them, his father would still be alive.