Elle Unleashed: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Twist

by Ditter Kellen

  It took her less than five minutes to reach Erwin’s place.

  The first thing she noticed on her slow drive past his house was a white conversion van parked in the drive.

  She then took in the condition of his home. The house itself was wood framed with the windows trimmed in green. A screen porch had been erected against the front, and neighbors lived on either side. It wouldn’t be easy to get inside without being noticed.

  Circling around to the next street over, she cased out the back. The yard was fenced behind the house, with what looked to be a German shepherd sitting beneath a tree, watching Elle’s car ease past.

  The large dog would definitely be a problem, no doubt sounding the alarm upon her later approach.

  Grinding her teeth in frustration, Elle drove away. She needed to think things through if she expected to take care of Carl without rousing the dog and, ultimately, waking his neighbors.

  She glanced at the clock on the dash, noticing that it was close to ten a.m. She needed to buy groceries and also pick up a few things from the hardware store, such as zip ties and more tape. Carl Erwin would die tonight…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After her grocery and hardware store run, Elle collected Sarah from school and drove her to the rehab center to visit with Evan.

  He appeared pale and agitated when the two of them entered his room.

  Elle had been around enough angry men in her life to spot the symptoms. She wanted to ask him what had him out of sorts, but didn’t dare.

  Sarah broke away from Elle and hurried to her father’s side.

  “Hey, you.” Evan moved over on the bed to give her some room. “I’ve missed you.”

  “When are you coming home?” Sarah innocently asked, climbing up onto the bed next to him.

  Evan kissed her on the forehead. “Hopefully soon. How are you doing in school?”

  Sarah laid back against his shoulder. “Good.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Evan cleared his throat. “Your grandmother Winnie called this morning.”

  Sarah’s head lifted, and an excited look appeared on her face. “Is Mommy coming to see me?”

  Elle’s gaze shot to Evan’s. He stared back at her for long moments over the top of Sarah’s head and then shifted his attention back to his daughter. “Listen, honey. I need to tell you something.”

  Stepping farther into the room, Elle shook her head. Now wasn’t the best time to tell Sarah that her mother was never coming back. “Don’t…”

  Evan lifted his gaze once more, a questioning look in his eyes.

  “Please, not yet,” Elle whispered, understanding full well how Sarah would take the news. “She’s only five.”

  Sarah glanced from one to the other, obviously realizing that something wasn’t right, just not knowing what that might be.

  Evan gave a slight nod and returned his attention to his daughter. “Winnie wanted to know if it would be okay for you to stay the weekend with her. Would you like that?”

  More uneasiness trickled through Elle. Winnie had lost her feet to diabetes years ago. How would she take care of Sarah?

  Apparently understanding Elle’s concern, Evan stated, “Winnie’s sister is staying with her for a while. She would have help.”

  That took some of the tension from Elle. She wandered deeper into the room and moved to stare out the window in an attempt to give Evan some time with Sarah.

  “I miss Grandma Winnie,” Sarah announced in a small voice.

  Elle turned to face the duo on the bed. “I’m sure she misses you too.”

  “Do you get to see your grandma?”

  Sarah’s words caught Elle off guard. She wasn’t sure how to respond. But the little girl’s expectant expression forced her to say, “I never had a grandma.”

  “Never?” Sarah breathed, her little eyes round in her face.

  Elle shrugged. “My mama’s mother died before I was born, and I don’t know where my daddy’s parents are. He-he never talked about them.”

  Admitting those words aloud sent a strange sensation through Elle’s mind. She suddenly wondered if Elijah had been abused in his youth as well. Was that why his parents were never mentioned?

  Elle turned back to the window, recalling the question she had asked Elijah when she’d been about eight years old. “Did you have a mama and daddy when you were my age?”

  He had backhanded her hard enough, her tooth had split her lip. Needless to say, she had never asked him about his parents again.

  She wondered why the FBI hadn’t asked her about any family Elijah might have had. In fact, none of the townsfolk had ever mentioned her grandparents either.

  “Elenore?” Evan was saying, bringing Elle out of her walk down memory lane.

  She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised in question. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I was asking if you’d be okay with taking Sarah to Winnie’s this afternoon.”

  Elle turned back toward the bed. “If that’s what you want me to do.”

  Evan lifted a shoulder. “I think it’s what Linda would have wanted. And I think that Sarah needs all the family she can get.”

  Elle knew he spoke the truth. If she herself would have had access to extended family in her youth, her life might have turned out different. “I’ll take her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elle pulled up in Winnie Duke’s drive after taking Sarah home to pack a bag for the weekend.

  The elderly woman met them at the door, seated in a wheelchair. She wore a floral print robe, and her gray hair had been teased up into a bun at the back of her head.

  She stared at Elle for several seconds and then held out her hand. “You must be Evan’s wife. I’m Winnie Duke.”

  Elle didn’t want to touch her. Not that it was anything personal. Elle had always had a problem with human contact. She blamed Elijah for that.

  Forcing her arm forward, Elle accepted Winnie’s outstretched palm. “I’m Elle.”

  With the pleasantries out of the way, Winnie dropped her gaze to her granddaughter and opened her arms. “There’s my girl.”

  Sarah rushed into Winnie’s embrace, leaving Elle a bit surprised. She’d never really heard the child talk about her grandmother before, though it was obvious she cared for the woman.

  Another elderly lady appeared in the doorway, her hands going to the handles of Winnie’s wheelchair. “Are you going to invite them in or leave them to stand on the porch the rest of the day?”

  Winnie laughed, releasing her hold on Sarah. “Oh hush, Myrtle. They only just arrived.”

  Elle studied the one named Myrtle. She appeared to be around the same age as Winnie, even resembled her somewhat. Only, Myrtle’s gray hair hung loose around her shoulders, held back from her face with some sort of barrette.

  Myrtle gripped the wheelchair handles and backed Winnie out of the doorway. “Please, come in. It’s chilly outside.”

  Elle rested her hand on Sarah’s back, gently coaxing her forward. She followed the child into a large living room and stood awkwardly by while the two women hugged and kissed on Sarah.

  Winnie broke away from the reunion and wheeled her way into Elle’s personal space. She sat there for a minute, picking at something on her sleeve that Elle couldn’t see. “I would like to apologize for my actions with DCF. I was the one who called them on Evan.”

  Elle wanted to ask why, but she knew. And on some strange level, she understood. Winnie had just lost her daughter to cancer, and the thought of losing her granddaughter as well was probably devastating to her.

  “Sarah is all I have left of Linda,” Winnie continued, still picking at that invisible lint on her sleeve. “And I’m getting on up in age. With this diabetes, I probably won’t be around much longer either.”

  Lifting her now watery gaze, the elderly woman whispered, “Please let me be a part of Sarah’s life while I still can.”

  A lump formed in Elle’s throat. She had no idea what to say in
that moment. She certainly couldn’t speak for Evan. But Evan was a good man, and Elle had a feeling that he would grant Winnie her wish. “I-I’m sure Evan would be happy to share Sarah with you.”

  Winnie looked relieved. “I sure hope so.”

  Myrtle picked that moment to wave Elle over. “We were just about to eat. Are you hungry?”

  Elle shook her head and trailed across the room to hand Sarah her backpack. She knelt in front of the little girl and tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear. “I’ll come back to pick you up on Sunday.”

  Sarah threw her arms around Elle’s neck. “I love you, Elle.”

  Swallowing around the lump now growing in her throat, Elle whispered back, “I love you too.”

  Elle would be lying to herself if she thought it would be easy to walk out that door and leave Sarah behind. But it was the right thing to do. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, Winnie had more right to Sarah than Elle ever would. Sarah carried Winnie’s blood in her veins. And Elle? She carried… Elijah’s.

  Straightening, Elle moved toward the door without looking back. Her heart ached as well as her stomach. No matter how much she cared for that little girl, she would never be anything more to her than the serial killer who walked her to school in the mornings.

  Elle made it to Evan’s vehicle, barely managing to keep her tears at bay.

  She cranked the car, pulling out of the circular drive without a backward glance.

  Once the main road came into view, Elle abruptly pulled over onto the grass, put the car in park, and openly cried.

  She cried for Sarah, for the pain and loneliness the little girl would suffer, realizing her mother was never coming back. She cried for Evan, who lay in that hospital bed, unable to walk. She cried for her own unborn babies, babies she would never hold, never know. But mostly, she cried for Elenore, for the life she would never live, the happiness denied her by the one man who should have loved her above all others. Her father.

  A feeling of calm came over Elle the longer she remained on the side of that road, until her tears dried, and her breathing grew even. She would never be normal, never be whole or completely sane. She knew that, even accepted it.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror at Winnie’s house, Elle knew what she had to do. She had to let Sarah go. Evan as well.

  The longer Elle remained in their lives, the harder it would be on them both when she walked away. And she would walk away. She had no choice.

  Elle Griffin was a serial killer. And no amount of pretending otherwise was going to change that reality.

  She couldn’t simply go on with life as if she hadn’t murdered nine people. The fact that they’d been evil incarnate mattered not. The courts definitely wouldn’t see it that way.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Elle crept along the back street behind Carl Erwin’s house at two in the morning.

  Dressed all in black, she secured the hoodie she wore over her head and eased up close to the fence line.

  No lights were on inside Carl’s house.

  Her stomach turned when she recalled the words she’d read on his sex offender status.

  Erwin had been the coach of a local little league team. He had been arrested when one of the boys he’d coached accused him of touching him inappropriately. Six more of the boys from the team eventually came forward, which had been the final nail in Erwin’s coffin.

  Carl was later convicted of seven counts of lewd and lascivious behavior on children under the age of twelve years old.

  Elle’s lip curled in contempt.

  Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled a pack of wieners free and made a clucking sound with her tongue.

  The German shepherd she’d seen earlier came crawling out from under the back porch, his ears erect, and a growling noise vibrating deep in his throat.

  Elle tossed one of the wieners over the fence, relieved to see him run toward it.

  He scarfed the meat down in under three seconds.

  She tossed another one over, a little closer this time. He ate that one as well.

  “Come on, boy,” she whispered, holding the next wiener through the wire of the fence.

  The large dog hurried forward, his tail now wagging in excitement.

  “You like that, don’t you?” Elle crooned, plucking another piece of the meat from the pack. She fed that one to him as well.

  Glancing around her to be sure no one watched, she lifted the latch to the gate and tossed the food she held behind her.

  The dog didn’t hesitate. He ran through the open gate in search of the treat he’d been offered.

  Elle spent the next few minutes easing down the street and coaxing the shepherd to follow.

  A cat sashayed across the grass of a neighboring yard, drawing the dog’s attention. And just like that, the German shepherd gave chase.

  Jogging back to the fence, Elle slipped through the gate, pulling it closed behind her.

  She made her way to the back porch, already in search of a light fixture there. There wasn’t one.

  On the verge of knocking, Elle happened to glance down to find a rather large doggie door. A door big enough she could slip right through it with no problem.

  She eased down to her knees, listening for sounds coming from inside the house, but was met with silence.

  Wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her pants, she pushed the rubber flap inward and took in the laundry room in front of her.

  No lights were on in the house, save for the soft glow of a nightlight in a hallway up ahead.

  Elle lowered onto her stomach and crawled quietly inside.

  The sounds of snoring reached her ears as she straightened to her feet and flattened herself against the laundry room wall. It felt as if her heart had taken up residence in her ears.

  Pulling the gun free from her jacket pocket, Elle inched along the wall, releasing the safety as she went.

  Her gaze scanned the kitchen and then the living room before she turned left down an unlit hallway.

  The first bedroom she came to was devoid of life, as were the next two she encountered. Yet, the snoring grew in volume, telling her that Carl was close.

  Stopping outside the last room on the right, Elle tiptoed inside.

  Carl lay on his back in the center of a king-size bed, completely nude.

  Elle swallowed back the bile that instantly appeared in her throat. Sweat began to form along her forehead, and her knees threatened to buckle. Visions of Elijah rutting on top of her suddenly assailed her. His breath, his oily skin against her face.

  And then Bill’s hideous eyes loomed inside her mind. The pain. The sodomy. The fireplace poker.

  Elle began to shake uncontrollably. She clamped her jaw shut to prevent her teeth from chattering. All the while, Carl Erwin lay there, completely oblivious to her presence.

  It enraged her that she allowed this man, this monster to control her, to paralyze her with such debilitating fear, even in his sleep.

  She took an unsteady step toward him, wanting nothing more than to empty the gun’s bullets into his disgusting chest.

  But she couldn’t do that. She’d be caught before she could make it back to the street.

  Sliding the safety back on, Elle placed the gun back in her jacket pocket and carefully removed the stainless steel knife from her boot.

  It terrified her that her hands shook so badly she could barely feel the knife against her palm; all the while, Elijah’s and Bill’s voices taunted her from the grave.

  “That’s my pretty girl.”

  Elle squeezed her eyes shut, unable to block out Elijah’s words. “You’re a whore, just like your mama.”

  And then Bill’s sickening voice replaced her father’s. “Scream for me! Beg me to stop!”

  Elle’s mind snapped. She realized it the second it happened. Reality faded to the background. Nothing mattered in that moment but releasing the pain, the unholy agony that tormented her day and night.

  It gripped he
r chest in a tight hold that stopped her breath. Her guts twisted into a knot of unimaginable nausea, and her head felt as if had caved in on itself.

  She brought the knife up, swinging it as hard and wild as she could. She buried that blade into Bill’s chest, over and over, reveling in the gurgling sounds he made beneath her.

  His blood covered her hands—her arms. It ran from her face, to drip off her chin in a sickening, crimson nightmare. Still, she didn’t stop.

  Elle was unsure of how long she sank that blade into Bill’s chest, before her arms gave out, and she collapsed on top of him.

  Somewhere deep inside, she became aware of the wet, sticky feel of the body beneath her.

  With a cry of disgust, she summoned the strength to roll off him.

  There, lying on his back, his eyes frozen in death, was the bloody corpse of Carl Erwin.

  Elle scrambled from the bed, her feet slipping in the enormous amount of blood pooling there. How had so much blood made it onto the floor?

  On her knees, Elle crawled to the bathroom, she’d noticed in the hall. She turned on the water and stepped under the spray, clothes on and all.

  She stared at her boot-covered feet, her gaze transfixed on the swirl of red disappearing down the drain.

  The knife remained in her hand. Odd, she didn’t recall taking it from her boot.

  Elle had no idea how long she stood under the hot spray of the water before some of her trembling began to subside, and reality made an abrupt appearance.

  She needed to get out of there. And now.

  Stepping from the shower, she dried as best she could and forced one foot in front of the other until she found herself back in Carl Erwin’s room.

  She didn’t look at his body. She couldn’t.

  Taking the lighter from her pants pocket, she moved around the room, lighting everything in her path. She even set the contents of his closet on fire.

  Once the bedroom was burning steady, Elle jogged down the hall to the kitchen. She would start a fire from that end of the house as well.