Darkly Dreaming Dexter's Daughter
Chapter 1
An Expected Welcome
Dexter
Long day. I had finished work over an hour and a half ago, but Friday night traffic kept me from getting home sooner. Finally I pulled up in front of the house, noticing that Rita's car was missing. She was probably still over at Astor's new house. Astor and her husband, William, bought one not too long ago because they needed more space for the new baby that was to arrive any day now.
The house was dark and empty yet comforting. Wind shook the trees back and forth over my head and the warm Miami breeze blew in my face. Grabbing my bag from the car, I headed into the house. I placed all of the things from my pocket on the kitchen counter such a keys, wallet and I.D and then I heard it. I could hear her inhale softly and I knew she was readying herself, so I did the same. She came at me from behind and I saw her throw her fist, which held a needle, out of the corner of my eye. I dropped to the floor and took her legs out from under her. The needle flew out of her hand and slid across the kitchen floor and went underneath the table. She hit the floor with a crack and instantly tried to crawl away from me. I didn't let her; I grabbed her ankle and dragged her back towards me. At that moment, she revealed she had another needle hidden in the pocket of her dark blue jacket. I caught her wrist as she attempted to go for my neck again and I twisted her arm behind her back and pushed her to the floor. She gasped in pain.
"Okay! Okay!" She coughed out. "I give in!"
"You came close that time, Erin." I told her while still holding her arm down and laughing to myself.
"You can let go now, Dad!" She yelled at me. I let go and she picked herself up and pulled her hair behind her ear. She looked up at me and looked down. As if she was disappointed in herself.
"You're getting better." I reassured her. Her face brightened instantly. Erin had long black hair that was originally blonde like her mothers, but she had never liked her hair that colour. Unlike Rita or me she had soft green eyes. Her skin was fair and immaculate. She looked like a completely normal sixteen years old. I knew she wasn't. At the age of four, Erin and Rita we're ambushed on the drive home from a friend's house. They took Rita's car and left them in the back seat after being chloroformed. They were taken to a house just outside of Miami. These men would torture innocent people and upload videos onto the Internet. It was Deb and Angel Batista who found the house and rescued Rita, who had major burns, and Erin who came out free of injury luckily. Erin and Rita witnessed highly disturbing things, but it affected Erin similar to how my early childhood affected me. We were the same.
"The same…" I muttered. I didn't want Erin to be like this yet somehow it comforted me to know someone that was just as fucked up as I was. I would never wish this upon anyone, especially my daughter.
"The only reason you can beat me is because you always expect it." She said while raising an eyebrow at me. "So, I was thinking," Erin started "I want it to be my first time this weekend."
"I hope you're not talking about sex." I laughed and she joined in too. Although I noticed she didn't answer.
"You know…" Her tone turned serious and her eyes kept on me, awaiting approval. I thought about it long and hard. Was she ready? Did she think everything through? Should I help? Should I not help? My pause caused her to be anxious. She bit her lip and her eyes kept shifting from me to the floor.
"Who?" I asked.
"Well, you see, this girl at my work keeps coming in with black eyes and sometimes even broken fingers. She's pretty much the same age as me. Anyway, I looked into it and it turns out that her Dad has had five reported cases of child abuse and he was trailed for murder of his sister-in-law but escaped conviction because no hard evidence was found." She paused for a quick breath. "I followed her home and I saw him attack her…"
There was silence. I thought it through and came to a conclusion that maybe Erin was ready now. She wanted her first kill to be justified and with meaning rather than just a kill.
"Tomorrow night." I said and her eyes brightened once again.