AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I like to pretend I was normal. That I didn’t have murderous blood running through my veins.
In elementary school, I robbed liquor stores in a getup that made me look ten years older. No one suspected the masked figure wielding a gun was only nine. Nothing else excited me. I tried to do what other kids did. I read books that I hated. I helped my mother plant her summer garden. I went to apple orchards in fall to pick bags of ruby reds so my grandmother could bake pies.
I hated all that shit.
Only darkness and death moved the needle.
At ten, I began shooting squirrels in my backyard. My father confiscated my BB gun after I was busted at a liquor store in a crime-ridden part of town. None of them understood why a boy that young was demanding all the money in the register. The cops asked me who put me up to it as if I’d tell them even if that was the truth. I informed them that I wanted to buy the money to buy a video game and that they could suck my dick. Because of the power my father wielded, I was let off with a warning. Many who grow up in rougher environments aren’t so lucky. One run-in with the law and they’re marked by the criminal justice system. Billions in your family’s private investment office means that you’re untouchable. Woe to the malefactors who commit crimes without money to get them off. My father didn’t need to bribe anyone to help me, but all he’d have needed to do was cut a check.
The squirrels didn’t stand a fucking chance. The homemade bow and arrow I crafted was too powerful. They’d run, but I’d shoot them as they scurried up our fence.
I tortured the squirrels. Drove my arrows into their hearts to see what’d happen. Curiosity has always been my downfall. I wanted tounderstandwhat happened when you cause death to happen. When you take the reaper’s scythe into your own hand.
Sixth grade was when my inner pyromaniac came out. Fires started around my neighborhood in mailboxes and backyards. No one figured out who was doing it. The cameras showed someone two feet taller than I was then and so no one suspected me.
Only one person knew I was behind it.
My high school football coach.
He found lighter fluid and matches in my locker. He beat my skull with the bottle of lighter fluid and told me that if I fucked with any more people, he’d blacklist me and I’d have no opportunities to go pro. I told him to suck my fucking dick because my father was more powerful than him and could make him disaster overnight. Coach smacked my jaw so hard that I saw stars. I sprayed lighter fluid on him while he was sleeping the next week and held a lit match two inches from his face. I told him to apologize for being a cunt. He started crying like a bitch and did what I said. The next day, I became starting quarterback and never looked back.
I’ve always been a badass motherfucker. The icicles pricking my veins eliminate my capacity for empathy. Understanding other peoples’ emotions isn’t my strong suit. The looks on their faces when I threaten to murder them confuse me. All I’m doing is telling them that they’re going to die. Why do they start whining and acting so pussy? Why can’t they be men?
Sometimes, I don't remember who I was before Chelsie disappeared. Two different boys comprise my past self. One was well-behaved and the other was a cretin. When I recall being a kid, my memories differ based on what mood I’m in. If I’m pissed off, I only remember my dark side. If I’m not as pissed off, the goodside emerges from the void.
Olivia is the only thing that’s distracted me lately. Before I saw her at the frat party, I was on the verge of slipping into sheer insanity. The fury at not being able to find out what happened to Chelsie consumed my every waking morning and night. The sick fantasies that wouldn’t flee my brain were overwhelming. I wanted to hire a prostitute, lock her in my father’s basement, and do what that anonymous creep did to Chelsie. Slash her to pieces and make her pay for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
My angel… saved me. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s the only thing keeping me in the light. The way she takes my forceful thrusts tells me that I can still find out what happened to my baby sister and purge that part of my past from my subconscious mind once and for all.
My fantasies will remain with me until I discover what happened to Chelsie. My twisted obsession fucks up my perception of good and evil. I must track down the motherfucker who hurt Chelsie and make him pay.
"We have no leads."
My eyes lock on the out-of-state private investigator I hired last month before Olivia came into my life and prevented me from flipping all the way to the dark side. "Impossible."
I opted for an investigator who lived in another part of the country so that his research wouldn’t be contaminated by local leads. Someone with distance. The investigators I previously hired wouldn’t quit using the same leads the previous ones already determined were dry. They all received the same questions which ticked them off. They quit answering the phones. I wanted someone whose knowledge of Chelsie’s abduction wasn’t tainted by misconceptions. A fresh start. Fresh eyes. Fresh blood.
"We’ve pried into the backgrounds of everyone who might be a suspect."
"Find more suspects."
"It’s not that simple."
"You’d better figure out how the fuck to make it that simple. I’m paying you three million dollars to get to the bottom of this shit."
"Where were youthe night of her abduction?"
A pulse of something I can’t name slams into my ribs. I glare at the investigator, unable to believe he’d accuse me of being involved. "Think twice before you ask me this."
I don't take kindly to motherfuckers who make false accusations about me. I’ll never forget that bitch at Saintswood who did that, attempting to tear me down. That's what idiots who don't know how fucking amazing I am do. She claimed I did some twisted shit to her that I’d never even contemplate. She was too unattractive for me to hurt her. Not my type at all. Big fake tits that made my stomach churn. Blond bimbo whore. She would’ve been honored if I’d really hurt her the way that she claimed I did. It’s probably what she fantasized about which is why she told me that I did it. I hurt her a little, but not enough to turn me on. I didn’t even come. That hard.
"I’ve looked into everyone else. You’re the only one whose presence hasn’t been accounted for."
I roar, rising from my desk.
Venom.
That’s what’s in the optical darts I shoot at my investigator.
