A long silence on the other end.
Finally, Conor said, “Deal.”
Epilogue
The sound of a door being opened woke up Ellie. Wasn’t she dead yet?
Oh, god, no. Please kill me.
She heard footsteps heading to her bed. Though they had stopped beside her a while ago, it had been minutes, or hours, before the person interacted. Sense of time was something she’d lost long back, along with the control of her body. Whenever she was in her dark world, which was almost always, time passed either fast or slow, but never normally. It tended to slip—seconds, minutes, and hours, mornings and afternoons, evenings and nights, they all blended together and flowed over her like acidic ether that stripped her body of life and mind of sanity. All that remained of her was a husk and her damn consciousness.
Her upper body was lifted and propped back on the headrest. A pair of fingers spread her eyelids, and another pair taped them open. The sudden brightness hurt her eyes, but she couldn’t do anything about it except yell within herself. She had been praying to the gods that she wouldn’t ever see the light again.
Light meant only one thing—murder.
As the brightness cleared, a human form slowly took shape in the center. He wore a black jacket and white scarf today, and his face beamed with happiness.
“Are you there, Ma?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, then disappeared out of her vision.
Ellie heard wheels rolling over the floor. A white machine that looked like a giant metallic arm came into her line of sight, and it had a TV fixed to its hand. He dragged it toward the bed, adjusted the knob behind the machine, and positioned the screen before her face.
No, no, no, not this again.
She screamed and protested, but it didn’t work. Her son continued as he whistled a catchy tune—Uptown Funk, he’d said. So Ellie tried her best to recover some control of her body, at least her eyes, so she could shut out the horror she knew he would play on the TV.
But for all the thrashing she did while floating in the vacuum of her consciousness, nothing changed. She could only stare at the reflection of her dead eyes on the black screen.
“All set, Ma.” He walked around the machine. “I know your memory isn’t the same, but care to guess what’s special about this video?”
He moved her a little, sat beside her, and switched on the TV.
“No? Fine, I’ll tell you.” He grinned and lifted his shoulders in excitement. “I hit three digits.” He slapped the bed. “Booyah!”
She shuddered inside. What sin did she commit to have born this devil incarnate? Why hadn’t she killed him when this… thing was just a child? If she had, she could have prevented many cold-blooded murders. But that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that her boy, the personification of evil itself, had always framed some innocent person close to the murdered victim, forcing them to spend their remaining lives in prison.
“Without further ado…” He lifted the remote and pressed a button.
Like all the others, he’d recorded it with a helmet camera. Two people, a man and a woman—a girl, really—were sitting on wooden chairs facing each other. The man was black, and the girl was white. He wore a sky blue shirt, and she was in baby pink party wear. They should have been getting ready for a special night out.
“It’s their first anniversary, Ma.” He giggled. “And last, too.”
The weeping girl’s tears dissolved her eyeliner and cascaded down in black trails. She was gagged and bound to the chair, her wrists tied to the armrest, and ankles to the chair legs. She tried desperately to shake herself loose, but the zip ties didn’t budge.
Even though her husband wasn’t bound, he didn’t do anything. He just slouched in the chair, his chin resting on his chest. Ellie knew her son had drugged the poor man, and when he woke up he wouldn’t remember what had happened that night. And he’d spend his life in psychological turmoil, behind bars.
The camera moved toward the girl. She tried to distance herself from it, screaming and thrashing, but she wasn’t able to break free. Her son stood behind the girl, grabbed her hair, and yanked her head back, exposing her tender neck.
Then he produced a large kitchen knife and showed it to the girl. She stiffened and pulled her head forward, but she couldn’t escape his grip. Not giving her much time, he placed the knife’s edge under her chin and slit it.
The girl gasped and her knees shot up in reflex, but her legs couldn’t escape the bond. She fought with all her strength, but he didn’t let go of the hair as he kept on cutting. He sawed the neck with the fervor of a madman, while blood gushed between his gloved fingers. Then ribbons of red liquid jetted out of the girl’s neck and squirted onto her husband slumped on the opposite chair. Ellie couldn’t watch the horror, but she had no choice.
“That’s arterial spray, Ma. Oh… this is getting me hot.”
He finally let go of the girl, and she convulsed violently while torrents of blood streamed onto her pretty dress. At last, merciful death ceased her movements. Her head lay back in an unnatural angle, like a Barbie doll with a broken neck, displaying the gaping gash across her small neck.
Ellie’s eyesight became saturated and her vision blurred.
The camera now moved to the other chair, and Ellie’s son lifted the man’s arm. He put the husband’s fingers around the sticky handle of the knife. Once he was sure he had the fingerprints, he dropped the arm and opened a door on the right. There was a small backyard bordered by a three-foot fence. He jogged to the fence and threw the murder weapon over it, into foliage beyond.
“Don’t worry, Ma. The police dogs already found it.”
He switched off the video with the remote and got up. Then he walked around the bed, to the machine, but stopped and regarded Ellie’s face curiously.
“Aw, why are you crying, Ma?” He uncoiled his scarf and dabbed under her cheeks. “Are you that proud of me?”
As her sight cleared, Ellie noticed something. There was something different about her bastard son today. He’d gotten a new tattoo on the hollow of his neck.
A tattoo of a trident.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my best friend from Oklahoma, Madeline Harris, for reading my words and encouraging me to go on.
Next, I thank Ramesh Manthirakumar, a wise person who gave invaluable feedback on the drafts. And his mom for making the world a little better with her kindness.
I want to give a shout-out to my beta readers: Farhaanah Fawmie and Ben Cotterill from Scotland. Your time and input have made the story a lot smoother.
The most important thanks, however, go to my editors at The Book Folks.
More fiction by Nathan Senthil
Check out the first Detective Gabriel Chase thriller:
Self-styled Mr. Bunny wants to be the most notorious killer in US history. With four high profile figures slowly hanging to their deaths, he’s off to a good start. NYPD homicide detective Gabriel Chase much catch him, no matter at what cost. But who will have the last laugh?
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Under the Cold Stones by Dan McNay:
A woman’s homecoming to a small town in Illinois turns into a dangerous and desperate battle for survival as she uncovers the truth about her past. Treated with suspicion and contempt, Daydee tries to take over her mother’s cemetery business and start a new life. But the townsfolk have other ideas…
ht
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Inhuman: Detective Chase hunts an animal who protects his own Page 30
