Thank you once again to sherry. I love you hun.
I do not own Twilight, Dexter or Sherry. (the last one I am working on)
Chapter 4
Riley's naked body is shrink-wrapped down on the table. Duct tape stretched across his mouth. Next to him is my small table covered with a gleaming lethal set of filet knives in various shapes and sizes and my trusty scalpel. Removing the mask from over my mouth, I lean over him.
"Let's talk." Riley struggles and shakes his head, I rip the duct tape off his mouth, enjoying the sound of it pulling at his skin.
"Fuck… That hurt man." Seriously.
"Talk." My mood was worsening and there was nothing sloppier than an angry killer.
"About what?" I can see the fear in his eyes now.
"I think you know what I'm talking about." I gesture to the board which has been beside his head since I left him here last night, all of his victims are up there.
"I don't." He shakes his head and I get angry again. "You're a dead man. My guys will find you and when I get out of here I'm going to kill you."
Picking up the scalpel I, very casually and smoothly, draw it across his forehead. "I'm not worried about that. Besides… I plan to kill you tonight, so it's a moot point."
"Oh God… Fuck!" Why did they always bring God into this? My eyes are transfixed on the blood that drips from the cut.
Pulling back, I walk over to the board. "Now tell me… Did you know you were dealing bad drugs?" Picking up one of the pictures I turn to face him. "Did you know this girl here, Bree, she had just turned sixteen when you killed her."
He doesn't speak and I lift up the scalpel again.
"Okay, okay, okay… I knew. I knew. Those people are the ones who owed us money. If they didn't pay they were punished. They kept coming back for more. We gave them plenty of opportunities to pay us. It's just business, man."
"Then, I guess I'm not sorry either." I approach him and place the scalpel down, watching as he relaxes and closes his eyes with a relieved sigh. Silly little lamb, so eager to believe he will survive.
Pulling out a syringe and vial I proceed to draw the liquid from it. "Now this." Riley's eyes open and look at me. "This here is my own special concoction. All the good stuff you drug dealers seem to like. LSD, Psilocybin, PCP, MDMA. All rolled into one little convenient package." The fear I see in his eyes sends a shiver of pleasure through my body. "I haven't played with chemicals since high school Science class. Thank you for bringing back such fond memories."
"No. I don't use. Please man." He mumbles out more pleas that I cannot distinguish, not that they would make any difference. He didn't deserve any sympathy. The justice system had let his victims down when they failed to keep him off the streets, so now it was my job to make sure no one else suffered because of him.
I remember when I first realized that the bad guy doesn't always get what he deserves.
Carlisle throws the paper across the kitchen table and takes a big drink from his coffee mug.
"Jesus dad, what did the paper do to you?" He offers me a strained smile and shakes his head.
"Nothing Edward, I'm just frustrated with how the justice system works." Walking over, I pick the newspaper up and look at the headline.
FAMILY SLAYER RELEASED WITHOUT CHARGE
Turns out someone lost some vital evidence and now a man who had killed four families during home invasions was now free.
"A bad guy killed all those people and nothing happens?"
"That's how it looks." He sighs and rubs his face. "These things happen more often than I'd like."
"That's not fair." Why did this happen? I had seen on the news that the evidence had been damning. How had this been allowed to happen?
"Life's not fair, Edward."
"So, what? The world keeps spinning out of control?"
"No. The world can always be set right again. It's all about the choices you make."
Picking up a mug I pour myself some coffee and take a seat at the kitchen table. That was when it sunk in. Maybe someone else could make sure the world was set right.
Riley's panicking now, probably asking God for help. I wonder if he ever answers them. If he offers them any comfort in their final moments. I myself am not a believer. What kind of God would allow someone like me to exist? Maybe I'm here because he needs someone like me, you would never see the light if it wasn't for the dark. Maybe I'm the dark he needs to help people see the light. But I doubt it. If God did exist, then he seriously made a mistake in allowing me to exist.
Leaning closer I make sure Riley understands what is going to happen. "Now, I am going to give you a little taste of your own medicine. Just enough to make you feel good, enough to dull your senses, but not enough to last. I want you to feel everything I do to you… Eventually." I look into his fear filled eyes. "This will more than likely stop you from passing out and missing the show."
Injecting him in the neck I wait for the drug to take hold. "You really have left a trail of bodies behind you haven't you. Florida and now, here." Pulling the table closer I peruse my instruments. "I guess we have that in common." I smile at him, "The bodies, not Florida. I'm not too good with heat. I don't like to sweat."
Placing the mask back over my mouth. I pick up the scalpel again and look at Riley. The drugs are making him feel good at the minute. I wonder if the pain will register with him. "Well, no time like the present." I pierce the skin on his abdomen right above where the right lobe of his liver would be located, his eyes open wide as he gasps in pain.
"Please man. I'll pay you. Whatever you want." Shaking my head, I carry on with my incision.
I guess the drugs haven't quite kicked in yet. Looks like I will have to keep him quiet. I really hate it when I can't work in peace. "I'm tired of your voice now." Placing another piece of tape over his mouth, I smile at the blood that has dripped from the cut on his forehead.
"Red is such a fantastic color. Calming, almost."
Turning back to his abdomen, I proceed with my incision, enjoying the calming sensation that washes over me as I watch the blood leave his body. Who knew murder was so therapeutic? My breathing is even and I find myself humming a tune I don't recognize. This is the only time I feel calm. The only time I feel normal.
The vibration of my cell phone stops my play. Pulling it out of my disposable overall pocket I look at the caller ID and frown. I don't have the number saved and I don't recognize it at all. Letting the call end I go to place it back into my pocket but it rings again.
Answer it and get rid of them. The monster inside me doesn't like the interruption.
"Hello." My voice is clipped and muffled behind my mask and I also find it hard to hear the caller through the plastic bag covering the phone. No risks. The tiniest trace of blood could lead to my downfall. "What?" I pull the top of the bag open and place it back near my ear.
"Edward. It's me… Bella." Isabella's voice is soft and flat as usual.
I turn to Riley and place a finger to my mouth, signaling him to be quiet. Funnily enough, he tries to shout behind the tape covering his mouth. Idiot.
"Isabella. How can I help you? I thought I had your number." I can't really explain why my voice softens when speaking to her. Must be a side effect of this whole friendship thing.
"Yeah, sorry. I dropped my cell and broke the screen, I just wanted to apologize for today." Her voice was still soft and muted, even with the bag open I had to strain to hear her.
"What for?" I don't really think she had anything to apologize for, but what do I know about women? Emmett always said they were hard to understand.
"I was rude to Rosalie in front of your family. I guess I don't have much experience with family dinners." I didn't think what she said was rude. Just honest. For the first time in my life, I had almost enjoyed a family dinner.
Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear I pick up the scalpel again and get back to Riley. Dragging the blade across his stomach I dig the tip of the blade in deeper. "Trust me, Isabella, I didn't mind."
Something about Isabella's voice mixed with Riley's blood made my body sing. I could feel a new feeling creeping in, something I couldn't quite explain. Every nerve ending in my body felt alive, but inside, inside my mind, it was as if I had finally found peace. Like the monster inside me felt completely sated.
"Okay." Tears leaked from Riley's eyes as he struggled against his restraints. Foolish man.
"Talk to me Isabella." I needed to feel more.
She was quiet for a moment. "What do you want to know?"
"What brought you to Seattle?" Riley looked to be a little more compliant as I opened up his stomach. His moans of pain had lowered in volume and his eyes had taken on a glazed look. Finally, the drugs were working.
"My father passed away."
"I'm sorry." That was the correct thing to say, wasn't it?
"It's okay, people die." Her voice stayed flat and I tried to determine if she was upset.
Looking at Riley blood spilling from his body I wondered if Isabella would feel disgusted if she knew what I was doing whilst talking to her. "You're right. People die. It's just the way life is." I smile at Riley. "Everybody's gotta die someday."
"Exactly." I can hear her steady, even breaths through the phone.
Locating one of Riley's kidneys I began to remove it. Blood flowed from his opened stomach and onto my hands and arms, painting them in a glorious shade a red. He wouldn't last too much longer. "The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." I murmur, watching the blood flow from his body.
"Mark Twain."
My smile widened, "Very good Miss Swan."
"I've got to go, Edward. I will call you from my new cell tomorrow." I had planned on sleeping late tomorrow.
"What time?"
It went silent for a moment and for a second, I thought she had ended the call. "What time would be appropriate? Are you working tomorrow?" I wasn't prepared for the sigh that left my mouth. I like a person to possess good manners and Isabella's were flawless. This friendship thing may work out after all.
"No, I'm not working tomorrow, but I intend to sleep a little later than usual. I then planned to go to the gym, it takes approximately two hours for me to finish my routine. Then, I will shower for twenty minutes and finish five chapters from the novel I started last week. Laundry after lunch, then-" I stopped talking. Emmett always said my routines were weird. Maybe Isabella would think so too?
"Then what?" Her voice was its usual flat tone.
Taking a deep breath I finish explaining my plans for tomorrow. "Then, I will be reorganizing my closet, which will take up most of my afternoon. Dinner at six and after that I have a medical journal that I wanted to look at. Later in the evening would be ideal for you to call, let's say between eight and nine. I plan to retire for the night by eleven." Pulling at Riley's kidney, I remove it and place it on his chest. "Is that an appropriate time for you?" Riley had a matter of minutes left, which meant I had a matter of minutes left to savor the feelings coursing through me.
"That works for me, Edward. I will call at 8:30 on the dot."
A smile touched my lips. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could be friends with Isabella. Maybe she would be able to see past my quirks. They say friendship is based on trust, I didn't need her to trust me, after all, I could never tell her my secret. I just needed her to accept me.
"Until then Isabella."
"Bye." I waited for her to end the call, then I carefully lean over and drop the bagged cell onto the table holding my instruments.
Turning, I looked down at Riley, his eyes were devoid of all life. I never even got to the good stuff, but with Isabella's voice in my ear and Riley's blood on my hands, I felt totally satisfied. Sure, I didn't stem the blood flow, which caused him to bleed out much sooner than I would have liked. I had wanted him to see what I was doing. To feel himself slowly slipping into the abyss called death. I guess it was the end result that mattered and the monster inside me felt fully sated, and that was what I needed.
What I do is not about vengeance, it's not about retaliation or balancing the books... It's about something so deep inside, so microscopic, that it's as pure as truth. As perfect as nature. It is about controlling the monster inside me so I wouldn't become like my targets.
~E~
Riley's body was all bagged up and ready to go to the furnace, the plastic wrap bagged with the body ready to be disposed of, and all the surfaces were wiped down; just in case any evidence had gone unnoticed. I put on a new pair of gloves and go about setting the space up, ready for my next target. Rubber sheets were placed on the cabin's floor and on the walls that were in the firing line for blood. All my tools were sterilized and placed on the tray that sits to the right of the old operating table. After cleaning myself up in the sink, I change into another new pair of gloves and wipe down the sink before locking up the cabin and walking to my car. My trunk is covered in plastic, making sure there was no chance of any DNA transfer. The old rusted Ford Falcon that I use to hunt my targets was hidden beneath the overgrown bush beside the cabin. Nothing could be left to chance.
~E~
Isabella did call the next day, at precisely 8:30 that evening, making me extremely pleased with her punctuality. What I did not anticipate happening, was talking to her until well after 11pm, when I realized my routine had been lost I had bid her goodnight and headed straight to bed.
That night I had struggled to fall asleep, my mind had been analyzing every word Isabella had spoken. She had moved to Seattle with her boyfriend Tyler, whom she had been dating since high school. He worked as a mechanic at a local garage and from what I could gather from Isabella's words, he spent most of his time either at work or out with his friends. She liked her job at the library because she loved books, but hated having to deal with people. She had confidence issues that had become apparent when I had slipped and called her beautiful.
"Tyler is my first boyfriend." Her voice hadn't lost any of its flatness when discussing said boyfriend. We had somehow gotten onto the topic of past relationships. I had explained that women find me strange and that I was unable to communicate with them at an acceptable level.
"I find that hard to believe. You're beautiful." I hadn't meant to say those words, but for some reason, they fell from my lips automatically.
She was quiet for a moment, "I'm plain and boring and there's something wrong with me, on the inside. I don't work right." Her voice had changed. It had an eerie feel to it and it had sent a chill up my spine. I have no idea what it was that caused that reaction. Maybe it was because I thought she was fine. Maybe because someone like Isabella should never feel like that about themselves. Or maybe it was because as she spoke; it sounded like she was repeating something she had heard many times. Like she had been told these things before.
I can kill a man, dismember his body, and be home in time for Letterman, but knowing what to say when my friend was clearly hurt was beyond my capability. So I went with my truth. "Well, I think you're great, you don't wear all that makeup that other women like to paint their face with. It makes me think of a clown every time I see them. You smell clean and wear clothes that fit you. You have perfect manners from what I have seen so far. Overall, you seem to have a lot to offer someone." Completely out of my comfort zone I stammer on. "But what do I know? You're my first friend who isn't family."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Feeling uncomfortable with the turn of conversation and not understanding these new feelings that seemed to be appearing when speaking to Isabella. I decide to end the conversation. Looking at the clock I am astounded to see that we had been talking for nearly three hours and that it was past eleven, clearly, my routine went out the window tonight. "Listen, Isabella, I have to go now. I wanted to be in bed for eleven and it's twenty past now."
"Okay, I will speak to you soon." Her voice had lost the chilling tone and returned to its normal flat tone.
"Yes. May I call you tomorrow?"
"I'd like that."
I was smiling now, something that has been happening frequently since encountering Isabella two days ago. "What time is convenient for you?"
"Anytime, I don't have anything important planned."
So I had promised to call her tomorrow. Maybe after I had visited Carlisle and Esme would be ideal. Esme had left a message today telling me she would like to see me. I know what she wanted. She wanted information on Isabella. I don't enjoy people getting in my business and she knows I'm not like Emmett and Alice. I don't want or need her mothering me. I'm hoping Esme will remember this when I see her. Hopefully, Carlisle will be there to curb her 'mom' enthusiasm.
With the image of Isabella's deep dark sparkless eyes in my mind, I drift into a restful sleep.
Thank you in advance for any reviews.
Have a killer day...