Sorry i missed last week I went on vacation recently here is chapter 5 and 6 to make up for the loss of time, in case you are still reading this series, if not well im still posting and coming up with new short stories if you liked dead air, thanks.
CHAPTER 5 (Ryan McCalister) More Bad News
I never should have let him go… I never should have listened to my Dad… and more importantly, I should have never spared him. Now thanks to me a family is dead and a serial killer is on the loose and still kicking. The same thoughts have been buzzing inside my brain until it had given me a headache; I sat there on the couch of my living room carefully examining the box of evidence that has all and everything to do with the Burnt Iron Killer. I and Dad were originally going to find my uncle with this evidence; however current events have changed the course of our plans.
Now we are going to find B.I.K.; or at least I was, with or without my Father. I was examining what appeared to be a key that was left behind in one of BIK’s crime scenes. The key was slightly rusted and had crust forming on it looking as if it was dry blood. Its file for this piece of evidence contained a note that came with it, this note had read: ‘Come and Get Me’, so this guy wanted to be found; but why? Why would he want to lead cops to him?
I stare at the key and notice a serial number and everything; the key’s number can be traced so I should go to dad with this and ask if we can look it up in the database. Not that he’ll say yes or anything, but it’s worth a shot.
All the sudden I hear a loud crash like a bottle breaking coming from upstairs. I quickly got up and continue to walk upstairs with the key still in my hand; I hear dad rustling a piece of paper as I got closer to his room. “Dad!” I call for him and all I can hear was him panting and mumbling. As I get to his door and open it, I hear him curse loudly and abruptly. I open the door to his room to find that he dropped his beer bottle on the hard wood floor; “Ah Shit!” he exclaimed. “Dad?”; “What, Ryan!” He yells at me while he is hyperventilating. “You ok?”, “Yeah I’m fine, and I’ll be down with you in a minute. We need to find him… we need to find Devin…” He sounded very off and was hell bent on finding Uncle Devin than he was on finding BIK. I would too but why the sudden change of heart? Didn’t he just tell me not to go looking for BIK? “Ok dad we will, just calm down and we will clean this mess up ok?” I knew he was freaking out over something but what? “Ok UHH good bring me a mop and the broom.” He commands.” Ok” I reply. Well that was odd, a little too odd. His voice was fast-paced and shaky, almost as if he was scared.
I quickly do as he says and bring him a mop and a broom from the kitchen then quickly come back up to his room. When I got back He was sitting on his bed with his hands covering his face and a red stained note sitting on the side of his left thigh. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and shuddering as if he was afraid or something; I set the broom that I held in my left and the mop in my right against the wall next to dad’s dresser, and he still remained very still and silent. I walk around the puddle of beer that was on the floor, the broken glass was everywhere and the stench of beer spread in the air of the bedroom, you could almost feel the smell course through your nostrils with such intensity.
I sat awkwardly next to my dad and he still remained in the same state of being. “Dad you ok?” no response. “Uh, dad, what’s that?” I ask as I point at the note on his left now on my right. I couldn’t get a good look at it considering the writing was sloppy and the paper was crumbled. That question had gotten his attention, as he slowly uncovered his face you could see tears running down from his eyes. He then slowly turned his head to the note, and took it and folded it quickly, then stuffed it quickly into his breast pocket on his shirt. “Nothing, son” He responds and turns his head toward the blank wall on front of us.
His voice was so filled with sadness; the pain was too much for even him to hide. “Dad what-”, “SON IT’S NOTHING!” He interrupts aggressively. Suddenly he starts to tear up and his eyes drown with water as one streak of water rushes down his cheek and hit his breast pocket on top of the note. I slightly turn my head and squint in curiosity and couldn’t help but wonder if that note caused him to act like this. What was on that note?
“Dad what was on that note?” He turns to me and looks more disturbed than sad. “Son…” He paused, and then looked to me.” Give me that mop.”
*
The weekend was long due to dad’s prolonged silence; he looked so depressed, and was un-able to do anything around the house. He stopped shaving, he stopped getting out of bed; he wouldn’t even call in for work.
I have been getting calls from his partner because dad won’t answer his cell. Everyone we knew kept trying to call dad to check on him, but he would never answer. He would just stay in bed and just mope around the house; lately, I have been doing all the house work and grocery shopping and every time a bill came in the mail, dad would just tell me to write a check in the mail to pay it off. That has been the only contact he had with me and with anyone. This didn’t just go on for the weekend; this went on for a month. I had been feeding him but he hardly eats, every day would be so dark for him. I know something is wrong; would this have to do with that note?
That may be so, however whenever I tried to go to his room and shuffle through his stuff, He would be asleep and somehow would always catch me and simply shout at me to get out. The curtains were always shut and the lights were hardly ever on. I guess in the literal sense it has been pretty dark around here.
It’s now Monday dad was at home and I was at school. I would always drive to school and sometimes give my friend Gus a ride and today he desperately needed one, considering me and him both live in the same area and the school was 9 miles away. As I left the house I, gave my dad a bowl of cereal on his bed side which remained untouched. He’d just lie there with eyes wide open and that same blank expression will be on his face.as he looks at nothing but the blank wall to the right. I then quickly rush downstairs, walk out the door, lock it and hop in my car.
Then I pull out of the driveway and head to Gus’ house. Gus has been my best friend since Pre- K and is a really goofy guy. He’s the ‘Jesse’ to My ‘Walt’, just without the whole cooking meth and cancer thing. As I pull up to the driveway at his house I honked the horn once and waited. As I waited I check my phones internet for the news. I was looking for anything or something that would have to do with B.I.K. Even with my dad not hunting him down I’m still doing the job myself. However I have been lacking materials. I did find out something though; the evidence suggests He’s an expert and apparently, he likes doing this shit. It was apparent that killing seemed to be his turn on. I mean, I know how it must feel to be horny, believe me; but when you resolve that with killing? That’s just sick. I could tell this was his way of getting off because he butchered the bodies excessively after post mortem, as said by the police reports.
The evidence has also reported his killings to have started with my long lost uncle and his family. I don’t see how it’s possible that Uncle Devin was able to escape. But he did and for some reason, deep down inside my gut, something wasn’t right. It just didn’t fit. Devin’s not the killer but he was spared by BIK. Maybe he escaped and BIK didn’t notice; who knows?
“YO!” Gus shouts at me while I’m still sitting in the car. He makes that goofy-as-hell smirk upon his face and his tie-dye shirt on along with torn up jeans, his appearance often gives off the wrong impression of him. He had messy hair that grew to the bottom of his neck, he was skinny and his eyes were blood-shot. He waves at me from outside as he walks out of his Small house and walks across his well-decorated lawn; his dad was obsessed with that lawn and so led to the invasion of the creepy-ass lawn gnomes upon his bright green lawn.
He approaches the passenger seat door and hops in my car and throws his raggedy old back pack in my back seat almost slamming it into my face.” Sup man!” He greets me as he shuts the car door. “Sup’.” I reply. “Yo Bro, did you hear?”, “hear what?” it must be some dumb rumor from school. “That killer guy struck again last night man!” He says with an awkward expression. I look down at my phone and see the news page has loaded and the story on BIK’s recent attack had made the main page news; “Yeah I heard.” I say disconcertingly.” Like bro, what’s been up with you and your dad?” He asks sounding concerned. “It’s nothing.” I say as I pull out of the drive way and head on down to school. “But seriously bro, tell me.” He insists. Oh well, might as well tell him.
By the time we reached the parking lot and had parked in the student lot, I had explained everything to him. “Whoa!”, “Yeah, whoa” ;”So like, you and you’re dad are like, detectives now? Tryna’find this guy?” He asks with his eyes squinted. “Yeah, but lately something threw dad off; He’s not eating, not sleeping, hell, he won’t even grab a beer every now and then like he used to.” I explain.
“Dude maybe something came up.” He suggests. “Well there might be something.” I say staring at the windshield of my car. Gus shifted himself toward me from the passenger seat.” What something.” He asks. “I look to him and looked down and looked back at him.” Well, there’s this note, he received it a month ago and it was in sloppy handwriting. I didn’t get a good look at it but it looked really odd-looking.” Gus was listening attentively and paid close attention.
For a stoner, he sure is a good listener.” That is so it!” He exclaims and smiles. He points at me and continues. “There was something on that note that spooked him the fuck out, and now he is all depressed and shit!” His theory could have been true, and it wasn’t a ruled out possibility.” You know what I think?” He asks and I look to him and nod as to let him continue.” I think this particular note is from you’re Burnt Iron Killer.” He nods and smiles at his very interesting theory. “Well maybe it was who knows?” I unbuckle my seat belt and both me and Gus get out of the car. We start heading to class while we continue the conversation.
Gus’ Theory sound surprisingly realistic, considering that Gus wasn’t always too bright; one time he confused pot for being a element on the periodic table. But that is beside the point; he was right, it’s that damn note that’s keeping dad in this depressive state.
The first 5 classes went by with how occupied I was, every class we were just taking notes on the semester finals. Sixth period however was my favorite: Forensics Biology. As I walked up to room 333 for forensics, I am yelled at by the very example of idiocy: Brad. Brad was a muscular, egotistical jock. You know those All-Star high school football players? Well he takes it to a whole other level. He’s every jock stereotype in the book, all rolled into one big Douche bag. “Hey, McCalister!” He calls me from behind. “What do you want Brad?” I stop in my tracks and face this asshole. He walks up to me with that smug grin on his face.” I heard that your daddy is too scared to even get out of bed. What did the killer make him into a pussy all of the sudden?”
Oh and his father works with my dad; I squint my eyes at him as I attempt to control my anger; I wanted to punch his face in as my fist clenched tightly till my knuckles turned white, but I controlled myself. “You know what, Brad?”, “What?” he responds mocking me. “Fuck You.” I say silently; I enjoyed seeing his round face as his eyebrows scrunched together, his face was always the stupidest whenever he was pissed off
I turned around and attempted to walk to my class, however it did not work. As I try to walk away he grabs me by my shirt and yanks me backward to toss me to the ground. Bystanders were just standing there in awe of the sight of Brad’s brute strength. I land shoulder-first and I grunt as I hit the floor. “Fuck me? No, fuck you!” He walks toward me then grabs me by the shirt and slams my body against the row of lockers behind him and Pins me there in place. “You need to watch your mouth, McCalister.” He threatens, His nostrils were flaring with anger as he quickly punches me in the right cheek still pinning me against the lockers. Soon after, he hits me once more in the right cheek; my face was beet-red with pain and numbness; I could hear ringing in my ears as the bystanders were cheering on Brad. I mean C’mon!
Not one person was standing up for me?
I stare at Brad’s face: so full of hate and so full of anger. Soon after he beats me in the stomach and keeps going at it.
Suddenly, the strangest thing happened: with every time he punched me, I saw flashes of a dark figure in my mind, and then I realized I have seen that figure before. I remember me standing over my defeated enemy; armed and ready to end his life. Suddenly anger ran through my eyes; I remember how much I wanted to kill him. I was so ready to kill him, but I had shown him mercy.
I just remained still and motionless as he keeps punching me against the lockers. I become more angry with every hit he laid on me. I start to hear whispers in my mind and they keep telling me the same thing: “You should have killed him. Kill him…kill him.”
I finally reach my breaking point as I broke free from Brad’s hold on me; I yell in anger as I shoved Brad back away from me. I was so pissed and was ready to punch Brad’s face in.
“Oh so, McAllister’s going to fight huh?” He mocked me as I stood up straight to look him dead-in the eye; my bruised face couldn’t even move right, thus hiding how angry I was. “Whatcha going to do pussy-” Before he can say another word, I ran up to him with my fist clasped tight and ready, I sucker punched his face and quickly kicked him in his gut as he fell to the ground. He grunted in pain and got back up to try and fight some more. Without hesitation I kicked him in his face, I was so angry I even envisioned Brad to be the burnt Iron Killer. After that blow to the face he collapsed and tried to get back up once more. He was moaning in pain and looked to me in fear. My footprint was red and marked on his right side of his face, His cheek was bruised, and his lips were swollen. “What the Fuck, McCalister!?” He shouts at me as his voice cracked and the crowd was suddenly cheering me on.
I however didn’t pay them any of my attention. Sure enough; before Brad got up I got on top of him and yanked him by his shoulders and slammed him back on to the ground. He was wincing in pain and I remained merciless. Punch after punch, I kept hitting him over and over till my knuckles bled. “Stop, Please, Stop!” He begged me to stop as he was crying; tears were now dripping from his now bruised and bleeding face. The anger in me had left; now all that remained was shock and awe. My eyes widened in horror at what I had done to Brad. The Bystanders had suddenly stopped and realized how insane I was for doing this to Brad. He still laid there with me still on top of him, crying in agony. “W-what have I done?” I whisper to myself in horror; I quickly get off of him and step back. “I-I-I’m so sorry.” I stutter. My hands had begun to shake and my legs could barely take my own weight. I made him bleed when I wasn’t even that badly hurt; this isn’t me…
I quickly reached my hand to help Brad so I could get him to a nurse. He winced back in fear and shut his eyes tight and tried to crawl away from me.” NO; please no more!” He shouts. Someone else tends to him. Everyone just backs away from me and they mumble to themselves. “He’s fucking insane!” I hear one of them mumble to a friend. “He should be in an insane asylum.” Another bystander had said.
I quickly storm out of the school and run to the parking lot to get in my car and drive home. I need that note; I need to know what happened. Now I know that if this sick bastard isn’t found anytime soon, the guilt of not killing him will kill the people around me; never will I want to lash out on anyone like that ever again.
I don’t want to be the monster I tried to destroy.
I pull into the drive way and quickly get out of the car; I felt the remorse and a wretchedness inside me, like I was going to throw up. As I walk into the front door I’m surprised to see dad on the couch bent over dressed up and shaven. He looks up at me as I enter the living room. Oh no, he’s heard of what happened; I was shocked and stood there at the door, silent and emotionless. His face grows with cold and pale. He stands up and walks toward me. “Dad, I’m so sorry.” A tear streamed down my face. Without another word, he hugs me. I was stunned; I didn’t know what to say. I mean, ever since mom died, Dad has never done this unless someone was in the family was dead or it was mom’s Birthday. Wait, today was the 21st of September. It’s mom’s birthday. Without a second to think I hug Dad. “Get dressed son, put on something nice.”, “Okay, dad.” I put away my guilt and my fear to make room for sorrow as I prepare to go to the cemetery.
*
Dad and I pulled into the cemetery that day, in dad’s car; in the backseat, was a bouquet of mom’s favorite flowers: Daisies. The weather was cloudy and not one speck of sun light was seen that day. Me and dad walk up from the cemetery parking lot and walk up to mom’s grave stone, which stood firmly planted in center between two trees next to another row of graves. The place was desolate; nothing but statues of angels and tall memorials surrounded us as we walked to mom’s grave. The wind had picked up as clouds rolled in, the sky became darker as we got closer to mom; it was so silent that you could hear the trees around us rustling in the wind. Dad and I never spoke a word to each other the entire time we walked. The only thing close to communication that we had was an exchange of sad looks and sighs.
We finally approached mom’s grave stone after we had walked for what seemed like forever. Dad put the flowers on top of the marble slab of rock and sighed as he bowed his head in sadness. The stone read: ‘Lauren .M. McCalister, Beloved wife and mother. 1981-2011′.
The bottom was engraved with an angel holding a cross. “Your mother was an amazing woman, Ryan.” My dad spoke softly. “She always had a knack for making others happy, even if it was not intended. Dad hasn’t spoken in a month and to see him speak shocked me a bit. However it isn’t expected from him to know exactly what to say about mom, he never said that before. Last time we were here, he just stayed silent and walked away from this very spot where we stood; I guess he changed. “I miss her.” I speak silently. “I miss her too, Ryan.” Dad replies. “And I wish she was still with us today… But sadly these things happen.” I could hear the sadness pouring from his voice. I look over the couple of grave stone aisles to see my aunt and uncles grave stones, along with my baby cousins’ as well.
Dad begins walking toward the graves of the reset of our deceased family, I follow along with him. As we approached I hear dad’s expression turn to fear, soon after he looked around the cemetery turning his head left, right, and then left again. I stared at him in curiosity. Why was he so paranoid all of the sudden? Thunder rumbled, I looked up at the sky and back at dad, a storm was coming, the smell of rain began to fill the air. I looked down at the gravestone to notice that Uncle Devin’s name was on there, well that’s odd. He wasn’t even claimed dead yet, they never really found him. “Why did they write Uncle Devin’s name on there, if he is still alive and lost?” I asked dad; he quickly stared at me and raised his eyebrows at the question. “I gave up hope for ever searching for him. Therefore I had his name engraved on this stone because I thought he was dead, and that he would never return.” He explains. I stare at the giant square monument of a grave stone that was also made of marble. “Too bad he didn’t stay that way.” dad muttered to himself. My eyebrows cringed at the remark he had just made. “What? Dad, how could you say that?” my voice raised and he hushed me and looked around once more and looked back at me. “Keep your voice down.”, “Dad, what do you mean?” I whisper.” It’s not safe to tell you here. We have to get home. C’mon lets go.” points at the parking lot ahead. I don’t understand, what does he mean it’s not safe there? And why the hell would he want his brother to never return after all this talk about finding him? Once more, we never spoke another word until we were home and I was too shocked at dad or even saying anything.
Once we arrive home, He sat me down on the living room couch. We both sat there silently, staring at nothing. The silence became dense and suffocating as we didn’t speak for five minutes. He was holding his hands clasped together, he looked as if he was trying to find the words to say. He had some explaining to do, regarding that remark he made about Uncle Devin. After all we spend at least one day wanting to find his brother and now he wants him dead? It just doesn’t make any sense. “OK…” he starts as he was looking at the window ahead of us.” Son, your uncle Devin… “He paused then began again. “Me and him always got along. And we loved each other to death, and I hope you know that. But somewhere along the way something happened, something made him act strangely around the family. He even stopped talking to me after a while.” He explains as I stare at him in confusion.” He met your aunt Clair, and he started acting normal again.” His voice sounded rather uneasy and his hands started to shake slightly.
“A few years later, after Devin and Clair got married and had Susan and Tommy, He became different again. He would drink more, he would smoke more. Clair would even complain to us and ask what was wrong, you remember that don’t you?” I nod my head as I understood what he meant. My aunt Clair would always see my father and mother for counseling about Uncle Devin. She was always crying and so upset. She was claiming she was going to leave him if he didn’t stop coming home drunk.
Uncle Devin was changing into something that wasn’t himself and Aunt Clair just couldn’t come to terms with it. She didn’t want to stay around much longer after a while. She didn’t love him anymore and he showed no signs of affection for her either. “Nothing was the same”, she would yell this as she sobbed in our living room, crying into my mother’s arms.
I have always wondered to myself: Why? Why did Uncle Devin act so different, why would he become such an awful person all the sudden? Dad continued on as he sighed. “Well the night that the killer murdered his family and Devin escaped…” My dad paused for moments before continuing.
“The night his family was murdered he left a message on my cell phone.” My eyes widened at the news.” Did you at least show officers this message?” I ask. “No, it was of no help.” He quickly responded. “What did it say exactly?” I ask,” ‘Help me, help me please… I’m so sorry… I didn’t know this would happen.’” He recited the message that was on his phone, he was disturbed and quiet.
“He sounded scared and panicked. I didn’t answer because this was on the night I went out and got drunk with my partner Johnny.” Dad had too, came home from that night smelling like beer. “I didn’t know what to make of it until I heard the news of his family’s death.” He paused and spoke again. “What was even stranger was what I found in Devin’s closet in his house.” My eyes grew wide in curiosity. “There were these books on Satanism and the occult.”, “Wait, what?” I reply in shock of what he said. Devin wasn’t a Satanist, was he? “Believe me that is not the worst part.” He tells me. “He had made contact with me recently.” I glare at him and think to myself: Why the hell didn’t he tell me this before?
He slowly gets up, rushes to the fridge, grabs something out of it, and comes back with two beers. “Dad, tell me first then drink.” I tell him. He then sets the two bottles on the coffee table in front of us and grabs a bottle and untwists the cap to let the loud hiss as the beer fizz rushes out of the bottle. He takes a sip, loosens his tie, and looks at me. “You’re going to want to drink a little before I tell you this” He warns me, so I heed his warning and un-cap the bottle and take a small sip. I was shocked at this act of parenting; but if it’s so bad that he would toss me a beer, then to hell with parenting.
He then reaches into his jacket pocket, slowly but surely, he grabs a piece of paper from his pocket and pulls it out. It was that note! I had almost forgotten that red-stained note. By now the redness looked dry and the paper looked crinkled up and creased from being inside dad’s pocket. He hands the note to me and I grab it. After he tosses it into my lap he chugs some more of his drink. Just as soon as I unfold it he looks away and I look at him with such unease. Then I slowly took a sip of my beer and looked back at the…
Note…
Oh shit…
CHAPTER 6 (BURNT IRON KILLER) “What happened?”
‘My mind is splitting apart, my head is always ringing. Make it stop… MAKE IT STOP!!’, ‘No.’ says the demonic sounding inner voice that haunts my mind. I sat there in the bloody mess I was busy creating. The walls were covered in blood and I looked down and gasped at the sight of what I was seeing. Blood was everywhere like I was in a pool filled with blood. I grabbed a handful of intestines from the open carcass of the adult male I had killed. The rest of the family sat on a pile covered in their own blood. I then smack the intestines on my face and shudder in pleasure and moan as the intestines plop back onto the carcass. ‘You like it, don’t you?’ The voice says. “Yes!” I whisper excitedly.
‘Look around you, how will you create this scene here?’ The voice asks me in the most twisted and darkest way imaginable. I looked down at the intestines then at the wall. I pull out my knife from my Holster and cut out the intestines from the body. I scoop them up and place it on the couch as I stand up and walk over to the wall.” I can, place the intestines hanging on the walls, like Christmas!” I suggest awaiting the voices approval. ‘Yes, Yes. It’s perfect, but…’ He paused and I smiled knowing there was still more to my twisted idea. ‘Something is missing. You see the rest of the bodies in the pile?’ He mentions. I look over at the bloody mess and grin slightly. “Yes?” I say aloud. ‘Don’t leave them out of the fun, get the nails.’ I cackled at this idea of his. Minutes later I was hanging the wet, slimy, bloody guts on the walls like Christmas lights. After which I turn around and notice a Christmas tree that hasn’t even been decorated yet. ‘Huh, I didn’t know it was Christmas time, did you?’, “No, I didn’t, But I do know that the woman’s intestines will make great tinsel for that tree.” I smiled and proceed; within the hour it was starting to look like my kind of Christmas.
Only one last thing had needed to be done; I proceed to hang the eyeballs of each body on the tree as ornaments, and decapitated each head. From there it was usual routine. I take the poles from my back holster and jam each head on each pole, tearing a hole into the muscle tissue and brain. Oh how the squishing sound had given me such pleasure. I grabbed a fourth pole from my bag and came back to the pile from outside where I was setting up my display. Three poles and three heads all set up, I have definitely set up the best display around compared to the other neighbor’s houses.
As I walk through the front door to see my work, I notice that I almost missed something. I walked up to the dead male carcass and dipped my glove covered finger in the blood of the body and had left a little message for the cops to find. I then step back and look at it awaiting my inner voice’s approval. “Well, what do you think?” I asked aloud.’ Merry X-Mas? Nice, I love it’, I can say now that me and my voice have become fond of each other; aside from the constant headaches, the temporary moments of insanity, and the blackouts, I’m fine.
I then looked down to get the woman’s head and when I saw the head something came over me like a memory of sorts. I suddenly see images of me and a woman in a park, taking pictures of each other, and having a picnic. I gasp and drop the head but in horror I quickly retrieve it from the ground after it had made a thud sound. I think to myself in horror of what I had just remembered. “What have I done?”…
‘Ignore that, take the woman’s head and burn it!’, I shake off the sudden feeling of sadness and pain then grab the woman’s head and look at her face. Her eyes were still there, I must have forgotten her. But the mouth remained untouched, pale, and perfect. She looked flawless the eyes had captured my attention. Her hair was perfect and blonde. Her lips were full yet pale and the face reminded me of someone. Then out of no-where, I flash back to a memory I never thought I had. It was me and a Blonde thin woman wearing a sweater with rolled up sleeves.
She looked like the decapitated head of the woman I had killed, only without blood dripping down her neck. Me and her laid there on a picnic blanket and she was smiling and so was I. I fell in love with her face instantly. She was so beautiful and flawless, and when I thought I couldn’t fall any more in love with her, she placed her perfectly smooth lips upon mine and holds that kiss with me for what seems like forever.
I could practically feel her lips now in the present; so warm, so soft. I quickly snap out of it and return back to my situation, I stared at the head for so long and I just couldn’t take it. I missed the woman in my mind so I kissed the head that was in my grasp. I had held that kiss for so long; I slowly pull back and regret letting that kiss go. Anger suddenly filled me and I realized something: the severed head’s lips, they were nothing like the lips of the woman in my vision. In anger, I threw the head at the couch and screamed shortly. “What was that, what just happened?!” I ask my inner voice demanding answers as to why I feel this emptiness.
‘Who do you think you were before The Burnt Iron Killer? Why do you think I made you write that heart felt note to Mr. Detective-up-your-ass and his side kick emo-boy ?’, I squinted and sat down upon the couch next to the head to comprehend what he had just said. “You mean…” I paused and thought about it and resumed.”-I am really his brother?”, ‘Yes, wasn’t it obvious?’, “Well I thought you were just fucking with me!” I shout at him angrily. ‘He was never a good brother anyways, he was a drunk, an abusive man, he killed someone once before!’, “So have I.” I reply to his remark about McCalister. “So what? I know good and well that shit is a lie! Tell me the truth! What the fuck happened?” I demanded ferociously.
‘Fine’ As soon as he said that , A feeling of intense heat came over me and I groaned in agony; the heat was unbearable and It drove me to the ground; as I rolled over groaning, my eyes flashed a bright white light. Suddenly the light stopped and some kind of a scene was lying out in my head.
There was a large, two-story house, covered in Christmas Lights and a snowman on top of the roof. I was somehow moving toward the house in what appeared to be me from a couple years back, I was in some cheesy sweater and next to me was that woman from the Picnic memory. Only she was in a brown coat that went down to her ankles and was wearing a pair of black gloves. She looks to me and smiles. “C’mon honey, were late already.”
What are we late for? As we reach the door of the house, the woman rang the doorbell that hung on the lower right side of the door frame. “Exited?” She asks me. “Yeah… it has been a long time though.” I respond, not able to control my words. “It’s ok Devin; your Brother will be happy to see you finally, after what, like a year?” She points out, looking to me with those bright blue eyes of hers. This woman was shorter than me, so I was forced to look slightly down at her. “Yes, I just don’t know if he will forgive me for abandoning him for so long.” I say in concern.”I know he will; you’re a good man Devin.” I close my eyes as she leans over to me to reach my lips and kiss me, I guess her height was an advantage since it made kissing her more fun. “I love you, Clair.” Clair! Oh my God, now I remember, she was my girlfriend. What happened to her though? Why isn’t she with me now?
As I looked at her beautiful eyes, the porch lights cause them to glisten. Her eyes were like luminous pools of light somehow I felt content in seeing those eyes. Then suddenly, someone opens the front door finally. “Clair! Devin! How are you guys? Please, come in!” It was McCalister; I never thought that my enemy would invite me into his house. Me and Claire walk into the brightly-lit home; McCalister stood there smiling and happy to see me and Clair. “Hey bro, how are things?” I ask Him happily. “Oh, Great, Devin thanks for asking; and how about you?”
As we talk he takes both me and Clair’s coats, I was wearing the exact same jacket I was wearing back at the house. This cold, bloody, leather jacket; now, in the past was a clean piece of clothing with no meaning to it whatsoever. Underneath Clair’s coat was a white turtleneck sweater. Her long blonde hair flowed naturally, bouncing on her shoulders. How can something so beautiful be missing from my life? “I have been good, things are going great.” I reply to him nervously, hoping he wouldn’t remember all the grief I caused him back then. “I missed you Stan.” I tell him as I hug him close, and he hugs back,”I missed you too, Devin.” Clair shuts the front door and cuddles in on me and Stan’s hug, as she leans on my shoulder. “What’s up, boys?” She asks giggling. “Oh there you are! What’s up, beautiful?” I broke me and Stan’s hugs and started holding Clair’s small body close to me as she wraps her thin, fragile, arms around my thick neck; I chuckle a little as Clair giggled slightly. She pulls herself to my height and kisses me quickly as if she was doing a pull-up. “Why are you so tall?” she laughs. “Because you like tall, why are you so short?” I laugh. “Because you like short.” She replies giggling.
“Get a room, guys!” Says a voice from upstairs; both me and Stan looked up to see who it was as Clair let go of me to look up stairs as well. Clair, however instantly knew who it was. “Ryan! How are you? Merry Christmas!” Says Clair excitedly, as the teen boy came downstairs to greet me and Clair.” Ok, Ryan; enough of the jokes, its Christmas not smart aleck day.” Oh my God, my brother has the worst comebacks ever. “Oh come on, that’s the worst comeback ever!” He tells his dad as he finally reaches downstairs and comes up to hug me.”Merry Christmas, Uncle Devin. Merry Christmas, Clair.” He hugs Clair as well as me. He was wearing some cheesy Christmas shirt as well just like I was.
“Wow, Ryan When was that last time I saw you? You were like, what, 10 or 15?” I look to Stan and he corrects me politely.” No, actually you saw him last when he was 10, you got it right the first time.” He winks and sets Clair’s jacket on a coat hanger by the door, along with mine. Ryan was just about the same height as Clair and let his long, shaggy, black hair go down to his neck.
“Yup, I actually got my drivers permit a couple months back.” Oh really? “I ask excitedly, “How did you do on the test?” I ask him.”95% out of 100%” He responds happily; he looked very proud of himself. Huh, McCalister’s kid isn’t so bad; I know the little fucker knocked my ass out but He looks like a nice kid. Stan then leads us all to the living room. We each sat on the two couches in front of the coffee table in the living room. The room had tinsel and Christmas lights hung all over the walls and the tree standing in the far right corner. The tree looked beautiful and festive, as it glistened and reflected the light of the ceiling fan off the ornaments. The room was bright and warm; it’s strange because I never felt this way before, never have I felt this warm and happy inside; I have always been excited and happy at the sight of blood, but never about Christmas or a woman. “Ouch!Fucking turkey!!” We both turn our heads to the kitchen and heard the fire alarm ring.
“I got it!!” I shout over the alarm as I grab a throw pillow from the couch and clear the air for the fire alarm right above me, soon the screeching ring of the alarm dropped and Stan goes in to the kitchen to help someone with a now burning turkey. “Honey, you ok?”, “No, ouch.”, “What happened?” I heard Stan ask. “Nothing; one second I was picking up the turkey from the oven, the next I was burnt by the damn thing!”, “Need help in there?” I ask aloud from the other room. “No thanks!”, “Who was that?” She asks quietly from the kitchen. “Oh um, Devin and Clair arrived go into the living room and meet them, Ill handle the turkey.” Stan suggests, “Ok, but good luck that damn thing didn’t give me a break and it sure as hell isn’t going to cut you any slack.” She comments as she enters the room.
“Hey Devin, hey Clair; merry Christmas!” The woman greets us, this must be Stan’s wife. “Lauren hey! Merry Christmas!” I walk up to hug her and Clair does the same. “How have you been, Lauren? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Clair asks in excitement. “Oh I have been just fine, that turkey it just won’t give me a break.” She laughs and then we hear Stan from the kitchen shout in pain. “And apparently it’s not giving him a break either.” She sighs.” Well Devin can get it out, He’s good with heat.” Clair suggests. “Really? Can you please help, Devin; the heat was put on too high, can you help us out?” She pleads and I willingly agree to help. “Sure, I work in a steel mill so heat is very easy to handle for me.” I explain no wonder! That’s why I always go there for the poles.
“Ok follow me.” I then followed Lauren to the kitchen. We then see a frustrated Stan holding his hand in pain. “Ok, you two, put your hands wrapped in a towel full of ice, and let me handle this.” I tell both Lauren and Stan to step away and pick up 2 oven mitts from the counter. “Careful, those mitts are old heat easily phases right through them.” Stan warns.” Relax; I know what I am doing.” I tell them, I then take two cloths from the kitchen sink and wet them down, and then I stuff both cloths and stuffed them into the mitts and put them on.
“Ok, here we go.” I quickly open the oven and immediately feel the intense heat on my face and I picked up the tray holding the slightly burnt turkey. The heat went through the mittens and suddenly my hands were burning; I take the heat long enough to carry the turkey and place the damn thing on top of the stove. I the close the oven and shut off the heat and sigh in relief and take off the oven mitts. “Yes finally!” Exclaims Stan. “Thank you so much, Devin”, Lauren Thanks me and then Stan pats my shoulder as I was sighing and facing the oven. “Good job, bro.” Stan congratulates me.” Thanks.” I say, as I put back on the mitts and carry the turkey to the dining room table. I then place the turkey on the table and Lauren calls everyone to dinner.
*
After Dinner we gathered around the tree in the living room and all of us had a glass of wine. Only it was non-alcoholic so I guess it’s more like cider. Ryan, (thinking it was real wine) asked Stan for a glass. Me and Stan humored him and acted like it was wine as we gave him a glass. I and Stan had turned the furniture to face the Christmas tree in the living room. Once we did a little redecorating, we all sat next to the tree. “Ok, whose up first?”, Lauren asks as she kneels down and grabs the Christmas presents from under the tree. Each box was wrapped in red and green metallic paper and was all different sizes.
Four glasses of cider later… Ryan complained about not feeling any alcoholic effects. We all laughed and I told him the truth. He was slightly amused and embarrassed, but he had another glass anyways. Afterwards we had opened the last few presents.
Stan got a new trench coat for the winter. Lauren got new oven mitts (Thank God) and a pair of gold earrings. Next, Ryan received a laptop and a Forensics kit; not the cheap microscope, notepad and pencil, but the real deal. It was a donation/gift from Stan’s job. Ryan was so excited; I could tell that kid wanted to be a detective one day. Then Clair had received a bunch of new cloths same went for me. Soon after, everyone was telling jokes and me and Stan were reminiscing with everyone. “Yeah, as kids, me and Devin would always climb that one tree that had in the backyard. Man, these branches were so long; the both of us would try to race to the top on them and I would ALWAYS win.” we all laughed as Stan took a sip of the cider. These feelings were foreign to me. I never stopped to consider how it would be like to have a life like this; with a family and an actual life. There would have been no hiding or killing, just happiness.
“No, no I would win, and besides, we had to race to the bottom after we got to the top and you were always be scared of heights.” I respond, everyone laughs at my comment. “I don’t even understand how you could’ve gotten back down without my help.” I told him, I chuckled a little. “Yeah, right!” Stan retorted. “Well then who won the last time you guys raced?” Asked Clair, she smiled at me then looked back at Stan. “Well, that was long ago.” Stan responded. “Yeah that was like when we were 10, or 12.” I added. “Really, we don’t remember.” I added once more and Stan agreed. “Well there you have it, it was a tie.” Lauren jokes.
I and Stan both looked at each other. “No!” We agreed in unison and laughed loudly at our instant response. So this was it, my enemy is my brother? Well this is insane we got along so well, what happened?
“Attention everyone, I’d like to make an announcement.” I said cheerfully, I then stand up and come to the center of the floor. Lauren was next to Stan all cuddled up with him. Ryan was on the same couch as me and Clair, and almost immediately, Ryan took my spot. “Ryan, I knew you would take that spot!” I chuckle and Point at Ryan.” Oh, you were just waiting for me to move, weren’t you?” Ryan then rolls his eyes and reply’s jokingly and moves back into his spot, “Hey, what can I say? I like my seat pre-warmed.” He smiles and the room goes silent.
“Now as you all know, me and Clair.” I gesture at Claire and continue. “-Have been dating for- what like two, three years?” I joke and everyone chuckles, “Please, try 5.” She smiles and I continue.” Well, these past 5 years have been the best I have ever had. Plus, I wanted to thank you, Clair, for the time of my life… so far” I added, I put my glass of cider that I was holding onto the coffee table behind me, and I go back into the center of the floor.
“And I wanted to thank you in a certain way.” I then kneel down on one knee and pull out a small blue box from my pocket. I look at Clair as she gasped and looked down at me as she remained seated. I then open the tiny box revealing a small diamond ring and say these words: “Clair, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want to spend forever with you. Will you marry me?” Say yes, say yes… say yes, please!
She then leaps out from her seat and hugs me tight while she cries joyfully and then kisses me softly.” Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! “She shrieks and hugs me some more, just then her eyes meet mine and she rushes her lips to meet mine for a kiss, her lips against mine were soft and pressed hard against mine. Never could I have imagined a more perfect moment than right there with her, in that exact place.
Suddenly I’m pulled into another memory. A great depression came over me realizing I was going into another memory. Why couldn’t I have just ditched my killing days and have stayed with her? I gasp for air as I’m dragged from the memory like I was being pulled into a black hole. I can’t believe my life so far… but one question still remains: Why am I the Burnt Iron Killer?
A bright light surrounds me and then there was darkness and after which there was a lit match. I was in a secluded area all by myself. I appear to be lighting a circle of 5 candles in the shape of a star. I hear owl’s hooting and crickets chirping, by then I knew I was in a forest; probably the mountains of Mt. Lemmon or Madera Canyon. I started to realize exactly what I was doing. Before me, was a Pentagram in the sand surrounded by the candles; shit, I didn’t know I was a Satanist.
‘Not a Satanist, just a greedy bastard.’ The voice in my head finally speaks, ‘where the hell were you?’ I asked inside my mind. ‘Silence, this is my favorite part!
“I call upon the demon called Abragor; I wish to make an agreement with you.” What? Who’s Abragor?
‘You’ll see.’ My inner voice tells me.
I quickly pay attention to what I was doing at the time. Out of the emptiness of the pentagram, a flame appeared and shot straight up as if to erupt from the ground.
I stood perfectly still; the heat was more intense than any normal bonfire. I raised my hand to cover my face as the flames spread across the field. A wave of unnatural heat strikes my hand; I bend over and groan in pain holding my hand. Suddenly, out of the flames, a tall red-skinned figure walked out of the fire and the flames died down. He had a human-like head but had rams horns protruding from his fore-head.
He was unlike anything that I have ever seen.
His eyes were black, and he had hooves for feet and was slightly muscular. He had wings like a bat that were folded in behind him. He looked angry as he stared down at me; fear had come over me and suddenly I had realized that what I had done was a mistake. I am trembling but I manage to stay still and act like I knew what I was doing. The demon’s Teeth however were razor sharp and had bits of what appeared to be human flesh stuck between his teeth.
Oh shit… this wasn’t going to end well.
“Who dares to call upon me?” The demon’s voice was deeper than any voice I had ever heard.” I, Devin McCalister, call upon you, Oh mighty Abragor!” I reply. “What do you request of me, Devin McCalister?” Abragor asks me with intent to listen. Thank God he was patient; I thought he would kill me right then and there. I hold in my fear and speak boldly. “I wish to make an arrangement. Or rather make a deal with you.”
“Alright then, what do you propose?” He asked as he grinned wickedly, he seemed very attentive. “I request for a new life, the life I have now is not going as well as I thought. Therefore, to make it better, I want a better life than the one I have now.”, “And how am I to make your life better?” asked the demon. “I want riches, power, and I want to be happy again.” I responded.
Happy again… was I not happy before? I thought I was already happy; after all I was married to the woman of my dreams. How could I not be happy?
‘You and Clair were having financial problems; you two have grown apart and when the kids arrived, things became stressful. Now you two can barely be in the same room without you both getting into an argument.’
Wait, what? I just don’t understand…
‘Shh, pay attention.’
I steer away from my inner monologue with my inner friend, and focus once more at my memory.
“This request of yours is possible; however, there is a price.” The demon raises his finger as a warning. His hands were clawed and boney, almost skeleton-like. He then points at me and speaks sinisterly. “You will kill your family as a sacrifice to me. Only then will this new life be given to you.” My eyes widen in shock and I start to regret ever summoning this evil. “Please, please anything but that! Please I’m begging you!” I pleaded, “FINE!” the demon had shouted. I stopped speaking and listened. The flames behind him roared as his smile turned into a frown displaying anger. “You will give me your soul instead. In return you will have a “new life”; one that you could never have dreamed of in your entire life time.” The demons words were persuasive and tempting; I look at him attentively. The way he spoke made me wonder and drift into a fantasy of what such a life will be like. “This will be a great life, filled with excitement and wonder. And you shall receive power, beyond your wildest dreams!” The demon had spoken in a way so convincing that any man could have fallen for this trickery. I mean, I obviously didn’t get that life that I have craved for, so I must not have made the deal.
“Yes!” I shout in excitement. I honestly don’t understand… how could I have received that life when clearly, I had not been given it. I put my hand out without any hesitation and the demon’s crooked mouth smiled wickedly.” Good.” The demon started to cackle; he shook my hand and I shook his long disfigured hand as he burst into flames and disappeared. I pulled back my hand that I shook him with and realized it wasn’t burnt any more, he healed it.
I smiled at the now burnt ground and then instantly felt a hint of regret. What had I done? ‘You’ll see’ the voice in my head spoke again. My face at the time didn’t show it, yet I felt a rush of anger surge from within my mind.
‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU SICK BASTARD!!’
I had shouted from inside of me; the heat inside my soul had increased as I was driven insane and angry from within.
‘You mean, what have YOU done?’
I suddenly flashed into a later memory; I was in my car, the car was a blue Chevy Silverado and I was intoxicated and listening to death metal on the radio. I was singing along with the loud heavy rock music while my windows were rolled down. I took a big gulp of beer from my 40 ounce as I drove down the main road. As I reach the corner I threw the bottle out the window. I hear my bottle smashing against the pavement as I sped into the neighborhood.
Finally, I get to my house and screeched the tires as I pulled into the driveway. I shut off the ignition whilst singing lyrics from Metallica’s ‘Sandman’. I proceed to walk out of the car, slam my door shut and proceed to my front door drunkenly. I opened the door and it was pitch black and no light was in sight. I mumble some gibberish and reach for the light switch that is usually on my right side next to the door. As I clicked the lights on, Clair stood there in an arm chair straight ahead. I looked at her and she, looked at me back in the most unpleasant way. She was in a white bathrobe and looked very angry. I looked as If I could care less.
“Where have you been?” She asks frustratingly, I moan and walk past the arm chair and sat on the couch against the wall on front of the glass table. “I was drinking with the guys.” I grunted as I took off my jacket and threw it at the coat hanger at the door, which I forgot to close. Amazingly, it landed right on the lower hook upon the coat hanger. “Nailed it!” I grumble victoriously “Till 3 in the morning ?” She stands up and looks at me with such distain. “What is it?!” I shout at her.
I’m the drunk one; I should be the one being shout at, not her. “Why, do you do this to me?!” She asks me immediately. “You do this to me every night, Devin, every goddamn-night!” She screams at me and I feel the burn of anger come over me. I stand up and almost fall down, but gain control again. “Listen here bitch!” I retort. “If it wasn’t for me, we would be out on the streets begging for scrap!” My eyes grew red, and I became sweaty. “Oh my God, Devin, what’s happened to you?” She screams and cries as she covers her face.
“Nothing, I’m fine!” I yell. “Devin, please stop this. I love you, I want to be with you, but I need you to be normal again. Honey I need my husband back!” she yells as she sobs into her hands and sits back into the arm chair. Never have I seen her so sad before, I felt an aching in my heart, as if I had let her down and I felt absolutely horrible about it. A part of me wanted to strangle myself for treating Clair like shit. But sadly, I did not have any control here. This was my past, and I can’t change the past.
“Your husband’s gone, Clair. Deal with it!” I then walk away from her as she continued sobbing. I walk down a corridor past two rooms and into a room at the end of the hall way and slammed the door. That night she went inside the room and lay down next to me. She fell asleep crying while I remained passed out.
Hours later I woke up; I was sober now and I had no recollection of what I had said to her. I sat up from my bed and looked to the left side of the bed to see Clair facing her side of the bed and sleeping in her white gown. “Oh, Clair, what did I do this time?” I whisper to myself.
I got out of bed slowly so I wouldn’t wake up Clair, and walked up to the kid’s room upstairs. As I walk upstairs, my mind wonders into dark places; I had thought about the demon I had made a deal with, thinking about what I had just risked. I know for one, once your soul is gone, then you are nothing and you’re eternally damned. Everything I had hoped to gain from selling my soul will mean nothing once I’m in hell. I guess I should have thought about it first, rather than going for it like the greedy asshole I was.
As I reach the upstairs hallway, I hear creaking from under my foot. I look around hoping nobody had heard that; it must have been the wood-paneled floor.
I finally reach the babies room quietly and carefully. I push the door open and walk in to see the room with Blue painted on one half of the room and Pink on the other. At the corner of the blue half was Tommy in his blue crib, and then there was Sarah. Sarah and Tommy were just about the cutest things you will ever see. Sarah was in a pink crib on the far corner of her side. In between them was a toy chest and the room was surrounded by an army of stuffed animals.
I walk to Tommy’s crib and then to Susan’s. They’re both so peaceful, so beautiful. I wouldn’t ever want anything to ever happen to them. At the time I loved them more than Clair. I always wondered how that deal I made will affect them, I just hope that they never touch my family; I’ll personally fuck up the devil, if anything happens to them.
I slowly start get back downstairs and walk to the kitchen. The house had pretty much the same structure and build as my brother’s house. So it was easy to not get lost in the house. I then proceed to the fridge and grab a beer. I untwist the cap and randomly toss it; then I proceed to walk to the couch and plop down on it. I took a sip from the bottle and before me, next to a cigarette ashtray, was something rather odd on the table in front of me.
‘Watch this!’ My inner voice tells me, he then chuckles within my head. Uh, oh; this can’t be good. Once I noticed the object, I turn on the lamp next to me on a small circular table that had stood to the left of the couch. The light illuminates the room and reveals to me the object that I noticed was a note; I picked it up and slowly began to read it:
‘Dear, Devin, I can’t go on like this, just having to see you come home so late, us fighting all the time. It just doesn’t seem worth it to me. This isn’t worth staying for and I’m so sorry that we can’t spend forever together anymore. I have thought about, raising Tommy and Sarah together but you’re never there for them. Either you’re at work or drinking. Or maybe you’re having an affair, who knows. All I know is that I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry, I’m taking the kids with me as well and don’t bother looking for us. This is what you wanted right, a new life? Goodbye, Devin. Enjoy your new life that you so desperately crave. Sincerely,
No, this can’t be happening! This just can’t be happening!
I crumpled the note into a ball in my hand but I couldn’t just throw it, I wanted to burn it and hopefully, seeing the flames of such horrific news burn, will give me some sort of comfort. I took the ashtray for my cigarettes and placed the note inside. Then I take my lighter and set the note ablaze. The fire was smooth and slowly ingested the note and the paper turned a crisp black and the fire was slowly shrinking again. The less note there was, the smaller the fire got. At that moment something in me snapped. A violent flash of anger enraged inside me. I start to hear a voice inside my head.
‘Awe, did Devin just lose everything he had? His wife, his kids, aww well I can make it all better. I can make this all seem like it never happened. Then you’ll feel better.’
The voice was tempting and sinister, and I was furious. All I wanted was to just rip something, anything apart.
‘Make me forget everything…NOW!!’ I command.
‘If you wish….’
Suddenly I let out a loud scream and my whole body feels as if I was imploding. My insides were burning and my brain was pounding inside my head. I start grabbing my head and falling onto the floor. My eyes were shut tight and my skin grew red and sweaty. I began crying in agony because the pain was unbearable; I felt as if I was being melted down in a furnace.
Just then I had realized I was no longer Devin McCalister, I was a monster. The pain had stopped and like the voice had said, I had forgotten everything, not everything, but I was pretty far gone. Next I heard Claire shuffling in bed. She was asleep and still in bed. However, this version of me in the past had thought it was an intruder or a random stranger in my room. A voice deep inside of me kept whispering in my ear: ‘Kill, Kill them all!’
Like all mindless drones, I listen. I then walk into the hallway and then proceed to slam the door open, thus waking up Clair. She shot straight out of bed and turned to me. “What the fuck, Devin?” She said with her eyes half shut and yawning. I gave no reply. I just stood there and looked at her angrily. “It’s 3 in the morning! Please do not tell me, you are still drunk!” She shouted at me. Suddenly I pounced on top of her and shouted: “Die!”
My eyes were red and I most certainly wasn’t happy.
She screamed loudly before I grabbed her neck with both hands. No matter what she did, no matter how much she struggled, I kept shouting as she’s gasping for air. Just as she is close to death I could hear her make out three words. These three words would have fixed everything if I had just given her the chance. She looks into my eyes as her face grows pale; mine showed anger, while hers showed pain and regret. She looks directly at me then says these last words:
“I love you.”
With those last words, she slowly slipped away. Her neck stopped struggling to breath and her body became frail and dead. Suddenly I wasn’t angry anymore; my memory had restored slightly as I froze there in place. I looked down at Clair and shudder. “Clair? Clair! Clair?! NO, NO, NO!!” I quickly remove my hands from her neck and slowly pick up her frail, thin, body and press my head against her forehead, and take one last look at those eyes before they close on their own.
Slowly, I begin to cry. “Clair, no…no…no” I whisper. “NO!”
The demon didn’t do its job right; I’m guessing he wanted to see me suffer before whatever happens. “Why didn’t you make me forget, Why didn’t you just kill me instead of her?!” I shout hoping the demon would hear me.
‘Because, you must suffer! ‘
Says a voice within my head; wait… then this means… no… No. The voice in my head is Abragor!
‘Well I’m surprised to see you didn’t connect the dots earlier Sherlock!”
‘Shut Up! It’s your fault, all of it! Stay away from me!’ I shout within myself, I
I scream again and feel the burning feeling inside me once more. Suddenly, I switched from being me to being a monster once more. I felt trapped in my own mind, helpless, and forced to do whatever this demon willed upon me. My eyes turned red and I move upstairs and kick the babies’ door open.
No, they are just infants! Why must they suffer?
‘Because everyone must suffer!’ The demon was so excited and happy, it sickened me…
I don’t want to describe this. The thought of me killing my own children would practically destroy me.
Still possessed, I slowly carry the infant’s bodies downstairs, I carried Tommy in my left arm and Sarah in my right into to the back yard. Afterwards, I dragged the lifeless, cold, body of my wife: Clair. No, this can’t be happening! It was morning yet it was cloudy. The darkness of the clouds covers the whole sky. As I stood over the dead bodies of what was my family, I look up and it began to rain along with a clap of thunder that was so loud, it shook my core.
‘Take the butcher knife!’ the demon shouts inside my head.
Right then I walk into the kitchen and grab the butcher knife just lying there on the counter. I grab the knife and I walk back to the pile of bodies through the screen door into the backyard. “Now, you must decapitate them.” Abragor says within my head. “No!!” I fight back as he takes a hold of me once more. I pause and my eyes turn pitch black. “Too late, it’s done.” The demon had spoken using my own mouth. For two minutes I was blank; it became so dark and all I could hear was a loud ringing within my ears.
My vision is restored slowly and everything was blurred, I looked down at the ground as my vision was still blurred. Then my vision clears up and I see my family’s bodies lay there with their cloths blood-soaked and their heads apart from their bodies in a puddle of each other’s blood, mixed with rain and mud. They were cold, pale, and lifeless. All I could think to myself is that I wanted to die. I just wanted to die and burn for this shit. I didn’t even care and more.
I am then pulled back into Abragor’s control once more. He then makes my body break off three long branches off the small tree in our backyard and place the heads on the sticks, impaling the heads. I look down to see the blood soaked cloths I was wearing, rain pouring down on me, washing away the blood that was shed on my face, arms, and cloths. I was still possessed until the demon released me; suddenly a feeling came over me; a feeling of grief, sadness, and guilt. These feelings over powered me and had me fall to my knees before the decapitated bodies before me. I could never be Devin McCalister anymore. This is who I am and who I always will be: a monster. Just then I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and call my brother. However, he didn’t answer. So I just leave a message. Afterwards I took my phone and chucked it out of the backyard.
Because of my stupid actions, I’m damned to be this way forever. Right there, my memory was truly erased. I had suffered from the shock of killing my family that I had developed amnesia, and had truly forgotten who I was, what I was and all I knew. Now the only thing left in my mind was to kill and to destroy. Much like the demon within me, the one they call Abragor.
Suddenly, I was taken back to the present at the house; I appeared to be outside and it was snowing. I looked down to see me wearing that stupid blood-soaked jacket and the black gloves that Clair had given me a couple Christmases ago. The pain of those memories, they made me want to die. ‘After the massacre, you ran into the forest and found a cabin. You were wearing the exact same cloths you are now.’
“Why?” I asked out loud. “Is this my punishment?” I ask silently. ‘No, you wanted this; a new life with fame and glory!’ I scoff in disgust and responded. “This isn’t fame; this isn’t glory…its shame!” I argued back. ‘Remember, you doing this is keeping me from dragging you to hell.’ He threatened.
“Fine, but…” I paused and pointed into thin air at nothing, as I face the house. “Ryan, Stan, and Lauren, will not be harmed.” I argued back at him.
‘Lauren died of cancer two years ago, but ok deal.’
That was the last I heard of him that day. I quickly walk into the house and witness my un-holy creation. I groaned and sighed, then walked into the kitchen and get a trash bag from under the sink cupboards. I walk back into the living room, trash bag in hand, and grab the woman’s head and put it in the bag. I quickly wipe away any footprints I left and walk out of the house. Sure enough, there was a light carpet of snow on the ground and I almost forgot one last thing as I look at the corner of my eyes to see the three heads on the iron poles. I take my lighter and walk up to the heads that were impaled on the three bars of iron. One by one, I light all the heads on fire. Quickly I walk back to my house that I was currently living in. When I get home I took a shower and put on casual clothes for a disguise. Once I was done, I take the head of the woman and placed her on the left side of my bed in the master bedroom. I gently laid her head down on the pillow and cleaned the blood off her eye lids with my fingers and my saliva. As I lay down I cry myself to sleep, missing the very person I killed, probably the only person that has ever made me feel love. Now I realize that I’ll never feel that way again.
Hells Reject 