Meet Your Favorite Serial Killer Page 3

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

  He noticed more madness in the three seconds he stood there. There were two lamps on a table that were made from severed heads. On the coffee table, there was a large silver platter. A severed arm up to the elbow had been partially eaten with a form of chop sticks modified with jagged steel edges. Finger bones were placed on golden dishes beside the platter, partially eaten.

  These people are cannibals.

  These people are murderers.

  These people are Satanists.

  These people are fucked up.

  He opened a side door that led into a courtyard. Bushes were grown high to create a maze. He couldn't see beyond the green walls. He fled without knowing where he was going. He was panting, clutching his chest, and keeping his eyes out for anybody who would try to grab him.

  So far, he didn't hear any sounds of pursuit. He kept weaving left and right. He was the rat in a maze being chased by killers with hungry mouths and psychotic tendencies.

  The words halted him where he stood.

  "Stop, Mr. Smith. I want to have a word with you."

  The bushes came to a dead end. David could force his way through them, scratch up his body, and see what was on the other side, but that logic was destroyed by what the man in front of him had to say.

  He was an older version of Luke Bloom. He had a brownish blonde toupee of hair, a round chubby smooth face, and a questioning scowl. This was a successful businessman who knew how to read people and use that information to destroy them. The man was an evil toad draped in human skin. This toad was sitting in a below ground hot tub. The water level was up to his chest.

  This man wasn't bathing in water.

  It was blood.

  Two stone gargoyle/demon looking statues were spitting the red out of their mouths and into the tub. He had three women bathing with him. Each of them were buxom, in their twenties, naked, and with tits two sizes too big for their bodies.

  "You're probably wondering how did I get a hold of so much blood?"

  He barely got the words out. "Actually, I wasn't."

  "Well, in any case, it's goat's blood. Blood is better than water. Water refreshes you, but blood enhances you. You absorb whatever life someone else lost when they shed their blood."

  David kept searching the area.

  He wondered if he should backtrack.

  "If you're wondering about escaping, you better stand where you are. I got this mansion rigged with pitfalls and traps. If you cut through these tall hedges, I got barbed wire snaked through them.

  "Please, put escape out of your mind for a moment. My name's Marlow Bloom. You've met my headstrong son, Luke, and his enchanting wife, Bliss. I'm judging by the blood running down your face, you've managed to clobber your way through my goons."

  David touched his nose. It was wet with blood. He hadn't even noticed his own nose was bleeding.

  "You're not in trouble, Mr. Smith. In fact, your stock has risen. You keep proving yourself worthy of The Event. My son loves you. After this incident, he's going to covet you.

  "Luke hasn't won an event ever. He's desperate to take home the crown. You might be the one, Mr. Smith. It's not an easy competition to win. It would mean the world to me, and the Bloom family, if you were to put up a good fight. That's almost as good as winning, as far as The Event is concerned. We enjoy a good battle. Do us proud, Mr. Smith. No matter what, fight back, and don't stop fighting. That's all the Bloom family asks of you."

  He watched how the woman next to him suddenly clung onto Marlow. They eyed David like he was a beast to fear. Marlow smiled his big toad's smile. He was about to eat a fly.

  Or watch him go down.

  David heard a loud pop, then electricity surged into his body. He collapsed onto the ground and blacked out.

  "His vitals check out. He sustained no serious injuries during the apprehension. Our patient is a-okay."

  "That will be all, Dr. Jenz. Thank you."

  David was coming out of a heavy fog. His eyes didn't want to open. He was sore all over. That was probably from when he had collapsed and hit the ground hard. He could feel where the electrodes entered his back and delivered the pain juice into his circulatory system.

  Through his cloudy vision, he saw one man leave, and the other, Luke Bloom, remain standing over him. He was slow to come awake, but he had enough of his faculties to know he was in danger. He was restrained by the wrists and ankles.

  He wasn't going anywhere.

  David expected anger or punishment for his attempted escape. What he witnessed in Luke's young, overzealous eyes was an incredible zeal. He was a young boy staring at his first nudie magazine. A man who knew the first inklings of sadistic power, and he was about to come into his own.

  Luke's hand squeezed David's bicep. Then one of his fingers trailed down the rest of his arm.

  "You are a strong man, Mr. Smith. Promise me you'll break some necks. Give 'em all kinds of hell. Bloody the walls."

  When David didn't answer, Luke's moment of awe accelerated into rage.

  The man choked him with both hands.

  "Promise me! Say it in words. 'I will break some necks, Mr. Bloom.' Say it. Say those exact words."

  The crazed man's hand wouldn't let up on his neck.

  He spoke in strangled gasps. "I will break some necks, Mr. Bloom. I will break some necks!"

  Somewhere between losing oxygen to his brain, and having woken up from deep unconsciousness, he had an idea. He had to play this to his advantage. How else would he manage another escape attempt?

  "I will break many necks. I will gouge out eyes. I will break spines, and shatter skulls, and make them bleed until they can bleed no more. Show me where they stand. I will kill them all."

  Luke's eyes were streaming tears.

  Those shiny globes were diabolically charged.

  "This is the man I've been waiting for. I never had someone so willing. You want to be out there. You are ready. Oh, this is very good.

  "This changes everything. You either have it in you to murder, or you don't. You can't force it. What I have here is a quiet psycho. You're the kind of psycho that keeps it under your skin. You whisper your psycho. You don't broadcast your desires. It's in there real deep. I can barely see it, but I know it's there. You know how to reach deep inside of yourself and pull it out when you need it. You will be the last man standing. Finally, a real warrior for The Event. And you're all mine."

  Luke was sniveling, wiping snot from his nose, and his face was shiny with joyful tears.

  David couldn't help but think no matter what he did, these people would get their way. He was theirs to do away with.

  Luke exited the room, but he said one last thing before doing so.

  "It's almost time for The Event. You are special to me. The problem is, I mean nothing to you. I'm your captor. You can say these wonderful things to me to win me over all you want. I know your lips don't reflect your innermost thoughts. People are liars and schemers, and I'm okay with that.

  "If you're going to be the last man standing during The Event, you'll need the proper motivation. Bliss and I talked about our previous fighters in the competition. They're tough on the outside, and maybe they're mentally tough too, but once they step foot in that arena, it all goes out the door. They turn into weak cowards. They get killed quickly, and we're out of the competition. It's no fun.

  "Bliss and I decided one thing was missing in our previous fighters. One big thing. A single idea, Mr. Smith. Motivation. The human brain works on that one single notion. Motivation. Give a man a reason, and he'll conquer the world.

  "You can talk me up all you want. That's easy. And you wouldn't be the first to try and play games with me. Your motivation right now is to escape and run to the police and tell them one hell of an incredible story.

  "You won't get the chance, Mr. Smith. You are ours now. You will fight in this game, and you will win, and you will know why you have to fight and win.

  "I'm going to moti
vate you, Mr. Smith. I'll be back soon. I have something very special in mind."

  David was moved to another room by Bloom's goons. This was a new holding chamber. He was free standing without cuffs or restraints. He stood in place waiting for something to happen. He didn't have but two feet to the left and right of him to move. In front of him was a large Plexiglas window. The room beyond that window was cast in black.

  He studied the door behind him and turned the knob. Locked, of course. He scanned the tight area for any possible escape.

  No way out.

  He thought about where he would be right now if he wasn't captured by this family of killers. He would be home, looking for other job leads, or he could be catching the Mets game while drinking a beer. Charlie might visit him at his apartment.

  Or would she?

  They had a blowout argument the night before his job interview. She was late on her period. Late enough to be get a pregnancy test. He hadn't heard the results.

  Charlie was thirty-two. He was fifty-four. The age gap was wide. The life experience gap was even wider. He'd had two children, who were screw-ups. One was a drug addict, and the other was in prison for manslaughter.

  The only thing David Smith was good at in this world was finding new jobs and not taking shit. He wasn't the best father. He wasn't the most sensitive man in the world. He wasn't the best at listening to people talk. He only wanted to hear the point of the conversation, and not the pointless build-up in between.

  He also wasn't any good at containing his emotions.

  When Charlie came to him with tears in her eyes, and she told him she might be pregnant, the words slipped out of him. "I'm not raising anymore kids. I told you that when we started dating. I'm too old to do it again."

  Charlie stormed out of the apartment and called him a heartless asshole.

  He tried to call her and leave her messages. She wouldn't respond. He didn't blame her. He was cruel about the whole thing.

  He was scared, and that was the truth. He felt enough guilt about raising two children who turned out so poorly. He thought it was his fault. But then again, he had friends who were nurturers and consistent with their parenting skills, and their children turned out like his own, or worse.

  Charlie wouldn't let anybody raise her children wrong. She was headstrong and independent. She didn't take shit, but unlike him, she was also not afraid to show her emotions. Charlie was everything he saw in himself, and also the goods things he did not possess.

  And he pushed her out of his life by saying the cruelest thing.

  I won't have your child.

  The lights came on from the other side of the Plexiglas.

  David was punching, pounding, and kicking at the barrier.

  "Let her go! Not her!"

  She had her arms up over her head. They were tied together by chains. She was stripped naked. Her body was covered in fresh cuts and gummy ones that were going necrotic. Her head was shaved beyond the skin. Her skull was showing. The white bone was almost neon.

  Her lips were covered with smeared neon green lipstick. She had garish blue eye shadow on her face. She looked like a dead hooker.

  Up from the floor, speakers broadcasted Luke Bloom's words.

  "Mr. Smith, hello there. Here's your daughter, Noelle. We found her in Cincinnati. She was a groupie for some shitty punk band not worth mentioning. She was already out cold on heroin in the hotel room. I guess rehab isn't doing much good for this dizzy bitch.

  "Bliss and I have been having fun with her for the past two days. You know I had to fuck her, right? It should go without saying, and here I am, saying it.

  "I tried every hole. When she tried to bite my dick, I had her teeth pulled. When Noelle and I were done with her, I had my goons run a gang bang on her. And man, I've sodomized my fair of women, and she by far, screamed the most. Anal virgins, go figure? Even when Bliss used that dildo on her, she hit those high notes like mad.

  "By the time we were done with Noelle, she was a new definition of bloody and battered. Today, I made her up pretty for you. This is the most important moment of her life. Right now. This is the point of her being born.

  "Think of it like this, Mr. Smith. Your daughter is an example. This is what I'm capable of doing when I don't get what I want. If you don't follow my rules, that's me not getting what I want. You can continue disobeying me, and you can expect more of this to happen."

  Noelle's eyes met David's. They went wide a moment. She called out for his name, begging for help.

  "Noelle! Oh my God, no!"

  Jets of fire shot up from the ground and cooked her body from head to toe. Her flesh disintegrated in seconds. The meat of her bones were cooked crispy in a minute. By five minutes, blackened bones hung in her place.

  Noelle one moment, the next, it was like she never existed. So much taken out in such a short period of time, and David could only wail, punch the walls, and condemn the ones doing this to him.

  Luke kept laughing through the speakers.

  This man relished his pain.

  Gas suddenly spewed from the floor. He tried not to breathe it in, but after holding his breath for a minute, maybe longer, that proved impossible.

  When he breathed the gas in, he didn't go unconscious.

  He weakened and grew disoriented.

  Figures wearing gas masks entered the room and carried him out. He saw the winding hall he had witnessed earlier during his attempted escape. He was carried into yet another room.

  Luke wasn't done with his presentation.

  There was much more to go.

  The room had four rows of theatre style seats facing a giant screen. Luke and Bliss sat together in the middle of the arrangement. Luke was dressed in a fine suit, and Bliss had a tight fitting red dress that showed off her plump cleavage. She had on what would be described to him if Noelle was still alive as gothic make-up. Her hair was that deep shade of red. She had shaved the sides since David had last seen her.

  Husband and wife were enjoying two platters of a suspiciously smoking meat.

  Noelle.

  "Come and sit, Mr. Smith. Excuse us for eating. If you'd like some, pipe up. It's best fresh, hot, and recently dead. You taste something different when the meat is newly dead. Like the nerves are still releasing pain into the human body, and it flavors the meat. We're working on Noelle's calf muscle. It's the sweetest and the juiciest. She must have been in a lot of pain when she perished."

  Bliss was too busy stuffing her face to care. She was dipping small hunks of meat in various dipping sauces.

  "You've been through an ordeal, so I'll try and not waste your time. Take a seat."

  David was urged to sit in the seats one below the couple.

  He could hear Luke and Bliss savor Noelle's meat voraciously.

  There were guns trained on him by the goons standing nearby. He was too weak from breathing in that gas. Whatever that gas was, it was potent, and nearly paralyzing. He couldn't escape, though every fiber of his body wanted to evade this place.

  Luke asked someone to turn down the lights and play the first reel.

  Once the room went dark, the reel started rolling. Noelle was splayed on a lavish bed. Bliss was naked and sitting on Noelle's face. Sexual pleasure was spread on Bliss's face, while Noelle was held down by a set of goons. Luke was standing in the background doing a line of coke in the background. He was naked. His erection bobbed with each sniff.

  Bliss was sadistic. She grinded her sex into Noelle's face harder and harder, nearly smashing her face. "Lick me, bitch. I'm not letting up until you lick me good!"

  "Oh, wrong reel! It's reel number two. Sorry, Mr. Smith. That's meant for me and my old lady only."

  The first reel was taken out and was replaced with another.

  Luke continued as if nothing had happened.

  "I was telling you about examples of motivation earlier. This is the moment it's all been building up to, Mr. Smith. Pay close attention. Let my point hit home."

 
David watched the collection of scenes play out. He thought watching Noelle was the most horrific thing he'd seen. This was worse.

  A shaky video camera was following a woman coming and going about her day. He already knew who they were following before the camera panned in close enough to show her in detail.

  Charlie.

  They followed her from work, then she met with her best friend, Becky Hinkle, over dinner. They were discussing how Charlie was pregnant. Becky was going on about how David was no good for her. He knew Becky didn't like him, but hearing the viciousness in Becky's words really stung him.

  The scene ended.

  Now, the camera was going on a tour of Charlie's apartment. She wasn't home. The camera swept over her kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, and then it stopped where Charlie kept pictures of her family, including her brother and sister. The camera studied the pictures for too long. He knew then what was meant to be conveyed. They knew of Charlie, and they knew of her family, and they were in as much danger as David.

  A new scene showed Charlie arguing with her sister, Lucy, about the baby and what to do, and how David reacted to the possibility of her being pregnant. He was hit with another pang of regret. If only he could be there for her now.

  The last scene was of Charlie sleeping in her bed alone. The image was green and black night vision. The scene started with a far back view of her underneath the covers. Then a few steps closer, closer still, until the movie screen was taken up entirely by Charlie's peaceful face.

  Then the movie screen went blank.

  The lights came back on.

  David couldn't feel his body. He was numb with the enormity of the situation. Kill him, he thought, but don't kill anybody else in his life. Especially Charlie.

  His body was weakened, but his voice worked perfectly.

  "I get your point. I get it. You don't have to keep doing these things. I'll play your game. Just leave Charlie out of it. You can stop what you're doing. Please. You hear me? This doesn't have to continue."

  He wanted to call them a thousand things, but he had to be smart.