Chloe used both hands to point at them, poking the space before them. “So, I should just obey the law? This is what both of you are saying?”
“Yes, Chloe, please call the cops we are ready to admit to what we did and we will pay for what we did.”
Miranda nodded. “What we did to you Chloe was awful, please understand we are sorry for what we did to you. We are so very sorry, but we didn’t kill you.”
His wife continued, “I understand you want to punish us but if you kill us our punishment will be worse than our crime. Death is the ultimate penalty.”
“Miranda, death is not the ultimate punishment."
Chapter Eleven
Prologue
The tip of the blade scraped the wood floor, moaning like glass being cut, as I ambled down the dimly-lit hallway.
Gripping the handle loosely between my blackened fingertips, the gray frayed tape dangled from the end of the handle like a rat's tail. The blade was an assortment of varying shades of oranges peppered with black, stained with bits of red, resembling the claw of a massive and terrifying beast that roamed the Earth long ago.
The blade knew violence like I knew pain.
The coolness from the floor hugged my bony ankles and the callused soles of my feet felt the texture of the wood, rubbed smooth over the decades.
Stopping, I turned.
Breathing slowly, I stood outside my bedroom.
A frame of light held the door in position. I took a step closer, looking at the different shapes of old blue paint that clung to the door like bark on an old tree. I ran my fingers over the blue bark one last time then my eyes crept towards the shiny latch. Unlocked, like I left it.
My hand inched towards it, fingers extended, pulling my hand back as if something tried to bite my fingers, shaking my head.
Whenever on the other side of this door, I hated the sound of the latch locking.
Grabbing and twisting the doorknob, I released it. The door clicked open, revealing a vertical sliver of my bedroom.
Blue bark falling, I pushed the door open. The door’s hinges groaned as if being tortured.
Turning my head a few degrees, my eyes narrowed at the bright light. An antique lamp with a green glass body sat on the dresser next to my bed. My math book, next to the lamp, had ’Chloe’ written on the spine in bubble letters.
The book made me think of Mr. Timmons. He had the bluest eyes and the best smile. He was so smart and he made Algebra, the only class I was passing, bearable.
A small cage sat next to my bed on the floor. Rat whiskers and little rat noses poked through an uncovered section.
They had to be hungry by now.
I gripped the handle tighter when I saw them.
Him and her. Them.
Both sat in chairs at the foot of my bed. My left eyebrow shifted upward, and my empty hand balled.
She had a plain, unlovely face. Tiny red dots and thin leafless red vines spread from the bottom of her left nostril to the bridge of her nose. Dark long strings with hints of gray made up her hair. Her breasts dangled from her chest like a couple of small inverted pants pockets.
His shoulders were the opposite of strong. His face pitted and scarred like granite, his dirt brown eyes rested on folds of dark skin.
I brought up the blade, placed it on my shoulder.
Turning her head slightly, she whimpered.
As I shuffled towards him I noticed his eyes were wet, the edges etched in anger. I stopped, stood next to him. I placed the blade across his throat.
My pulse quickened.
Her eyes closed, and tears flowed.
Both had their legs tied to the chair’s legs and their arms and hands were super-glued to the armrests. Each had a rope tied around their necks, the other end tied to a leg of their chair.
I had no immediate plans to kill either one. That would be too easy.
They owed much more than that.
Pulled out a shoebox from under my bed. Knelt, placing the box and blade on the floor in front of them.
Opened the box, I pulled out a rusty razor blade and an old Barbie doll that I renamed her Sophia. Dirty and her hair had been cut crooked, I stood her up on the other side of the shoebox next to the razor blade.
Sophia wanted to watch.
It was useless, but they squirmed anyway.
Stood up and moved to a spot in front of them so they could see me. I peered into a mirror that hung on the wall behind them. I did not see much except red-rimmed eyes.
My vision trailed to the side, unsure exactly what to say. I stared at a spot on the floor between them and me. My heart pounded in my chest. “You both are going to die."
Both stared at each other and then back at me.
“But first …” Filled my lungs with air. “You will, suffer.”
Chapter Twelve
Miranda Begged
An hour later.
“Kill me, please, Chloe, just fucking kill me,” Miranda implored, reddish-clear drool hung from her bottom lip.
Relishing those words, I just finished cutting a section from each of her Achilles heels with the wire cutters.
I kept perfectly still—enjoying this—for a few moments before moving. Staring down at the female monster, I wanted to tear off her lips and feed them to her.
Miranda's body shook while she whimpered. “I'm so sorry.”
Stabbed the air with my index finger. “I thought of many ways to kill you two. At first I just wanted you dead. Bam!” I clapped my hands.
Kenneth and Miranda both cringed.
I continued. “Something quick, but after a lot of thinking I knew just killing you wouldn’t be enough."
"But …" Kenneth tried to say before I popped him up side the head with the bat.
His head bobbed, dangling. I grabbed a handful of hair and noted that he was out, again. Must’ve of hit him harder than I thought.
Glancing over at Miranda, she seemed tired. "Your suffering is necessary.”
She blubbered for several long moments before she got control of her herself. “I understand Chloe you want to get onto the next chapter of your life but please …”
It was a bit strange listening to Miranda speak like this. She was being nice, but clearly it was to stop the pain she felt. It was funny that both of them were willing to admit their crimes to the police. It wasn’t true, just a way to get me to stop.
Stopping was not in my immediate plans. Bringing the Louisville Slugger down on Miranda’s left knee, there was a loud crack.
Miranda squirmed, but did not scream. I was sure that her knee was shattered.
Standing in front of her, I stared directly into her eyes. “You know what, I consider this to be the prologue of my life.”
“What do you mean by ‘prologue’?” Miranda managed to ask.
I smiled. “It’s from the Greek word prologos. The pro part means before and the logos means saying. Before saying.” I glanced down at my bat. “Some books have a prologue. But you wouldn't know about that would you?"
“No, not really.”
With a notion that I was wasting time, I went over to the dresser and pulled out a small paper bag from the bottom drawer. Reaching inside the bag, I pulled out a syringe and a small metal canister.
The woman whimpered.
I held out the syringe in front her. “I think this is going to hut.”
She made a noise that reminded me of a bleating goat, which reminded me about this time Kenneth tore off the ears of one goat and an entire leg of another.
I didn’t feel bad about their bleating. I shot both of them, and cut them up. Later, Kenneth grilled their meat. It was a tasty meal.
There were so many examples of how I lost the ability to feel. I should feel other’s pain, but it was difficult.
Snippets of all the horrible memories I had in this house played in my head. This woman did nothing to help me or my little brother or any other kid.
“You are a female but you did nothing to help us
kids. You made me question everything. The only thing I came up with is that you should no longer be allowed to live. But before you go, you need to suffer.“
She squirmed. "No, please, Chloe!"
"There were days when I wished I believed in a god, that way I would have to believe that there was a devil.”
Her eyes pleaded.
I sniffed. “I hope Hell does exist Miranda."
Shaking her head strenuously, side to side. "Please, no.”
"Tell the devil I said ‘hi’.”
Holding the syringe, I plunged the needle into Miranda’s neck and compressed in the plunger.
Two cc’s of chlorine was enough to make Miranda’s body twist and turn uncontrollably.
Next, I unscrewed the top of the metal canister and poured the lye into her left eye. She screamed louder than ever before.
Her body convulsed like she was possessed.
Miranda's working eye creepily stared at me. “Oh my God! Kill me! Cut my throat! Please stop the pain!"
Pitiful.
I could only imagine the pain she was experiencing. If she didn't want to die like this she should've never been a monster.
Kenneth was alert. “What did you do to my wife?”
My entire body rotated. “Oh, you’re awake, goodie! Your turn, now.”
Chapter Thirteen
God Helps
Kenneth woke.
It felt like there was no part of his body that didn't hurt.
Miranda started screaming. Her screams were terrifying. The bad thing was that the nearest neighbor was about a half-mile away. There was no way that anyone would hear the screaming.
He glanced over at her, and the way her eye socket fizzled, he assumed that Chloe poured lye in Miranda's eye. He showed her how to use lye when he got rid of several carcasses and made Chloe help him pour the lye.
Kenneth wanted to die; he didn’t care about Miranda’s agony anymore. The pain was too much for him to be worried about anyone else.
It took at least ten minutes, Kenneth thought, for Miranda’s body to stop moving. Her face was less than a foot away from Miranda’s the whole time. It seemed like that Chloe was enjoying herself.
She looked up and met Kenneth’s eyes. “Oh, you’re awake, goodie.”
He shook his head. He couldn’t take anymore. “Please, don’t do this. I swear to God that I will tell the police every awful thing I did to you, and yes I know that it was awful and disgusting. I’m very sorry for what I did to you.”
“Don’t worry I’m not going to kill you.” She held out a medicine bottle. “Here take some of these, they should help with the pain.”
He followed instructions obediently; he wanted the pain to go away. Swallowed four pills, and smiled at her. “Thank you Chloe, I swear to God I will make …”
Bending so that her face was a mere few inches from his, her face crinkled. “Hey monster shut the hell up! I didn’t give you permission to speak!”
Only a church mouse could make less noise than Kenneth.
She stood upright and smiled. "Now that your monster wife is dead, I have a surprise for you."
His heart skipped a beat. Is she going to let me go?
With happy eyes, she said, "There are rats in the cage.” She pointed down at the cage under the shirts. "I haven’t fed them in a couple of days. They're probably very hungry. Every now and then I would smack the cage, and they squeak. I guess they get mad at that."
Kenneth squirmed in his chair.
The girl gazed at the cage. “I wonder if they’ve started eating each other yet."
He had an idea what she was planning.
Once, he tied a dog up. He tied its legs and its snout shut. He made made small cuts all over the animal’s body, and let the rats feast on the bloodied beast. Now, the memory did not seem that funny.
Kenneth was aware of the potential pain, and he did not like it. He’d rather die than experience any more of it. “Oh please God! Just let me die, please.”
"What's wrong? Don't you like your new friends?”
Throughout his life, he handled all kinds of animals, but he liked to be clean. Rats were filthy, germ riddled. His heart wrecked the inside of his chest, like a baby rhino trying to escape. “Oh my God! Chloe what the fuck are you going to do with them?"
She pointed to the cage. “I’m going to let them feed on you."
The bottom of his stomach dropped ten feet. “Please kill me right now! Fuck it, give me a knife I will slash my own wrists! I swear to God! Don’t let those filthy things near me!”
“Do you realize that you still have a hard-on since you sat down?”
There was a rubber band around the base. It was purple, and most likely useless by now, but he didn't much care.
“Do you have any feeling?” she asked, poking at it with the bat.
He felt the phantom needles. The pain was not as bad as having his ear torn off. “Yes, I think the feeling is coming back.”
“You really don’t know why I’m doing this Kenneth?”
“We’ve been loving you for a while and all of the sudden you do this? Why now?”
“You sick sorry excuse for a human being, we had a deal. You said that Henry would be safe from your customers!”
Fear of more pain made his mind was fuzzy. He didn't understand. "Who are you talking about?"
"Henry told me about Uncle touching him."
Kenneth was quiet, mad at himself because he underestimated her.
“Yeah, my brother told me that you had touched his private parts."
Vigorously shaking his head, Kenneth’s eyes bulged. “No! I didn't touch him! I promise! I swear to God! Uncle did it! I swear to God!”
“You know what Kenneth, I believe you." She winked at him.
He was a little relieved, wanting this to be over.
She showed him a knife. "Kenneth, I think you’ll survive, but I doubt that you'll want to."
Chapter Fourteen
Rats
The blood percolated from the slits I made on Kenneth’s thighs.
Uncovering it, I picked the cage up. placing it down on top of his lap.
His face contorted. "OH MY GOD!”
The rats squealed in excitement as the cage's bottom sat on top of his bloody lap. They buried their snouts deep into the slits, widening them.
"You know, I read somewhere that rats eat everything, even each other, if they are hungry enough.”
Kenneth and I had trapped a Chihuahua. A pet from the neighborhood. Kenneth had the bright idea to feed the Chihuahua to rats. We already had the rats, and he didn't feed the them for days. He grabbed the dog and opened the cage where he held the rats. The poor dog in the rats' cage; it didn't have a chance. I remember that as clear as a bell. I knew that it was wrong but there was nothing I could do to help it. I remember wishing I had a rifle or a pistol that day. I would have put it out of its misery.
There were fifteen, maybe twenty rats in that cage. They killed that Chihuahua and picked its bones clean by the next morning.
"PLEASE STOP!" Kenneth squirmed so much I thought he would tear the skin off. "I can feel their teeth eating me!"
One of the rats raised up, its snout painted with blood, sniffing the air. Other rodents squealed in excitement at such a humongous meal.
Kenneth moaned, his face was a map of horror. He was three shades paler than a ghost.
Becoming very calm, a sense of peacefulness engulfed me. The sense of helplessness had evaporated.
I had done it; I got the Parnells.
However, Uncle remained, but needed more time to get him. I had his phone number; he gave it to me incase Kenneth or Miranda tried anything. I will call him later and I'll be ready.
I let out a little laugh when I remembered one of Mrs. Parnell’s favorite quotes: God helps those who help themselves.
“Please, kill me,” Kenneth said. "Please, Chloe."
Glancing down at him, I frowned. “I am not finished.”
H
e begged me to kill him again.
Looking over at the shirts that had covered the cage, I grabbed a blue shirt—using it as a glove. I opened the cage and grabbed one of the rats by its tail. Its snout was doused in blood.
It looked drunk; drunk on blood.
Closed the cage, I used a razor to cut Kenneth’s left nipple. Blood dribbled out onto his gut.
Lickety-split, it began licking the nipple blood. I released its tail; it did not run away. It burrowed its snout deeper into the cut, splitting the nipple like a dry pepperoni.
It was too hungry to leave the buffet.
“Oh my God! Please stop this Chloe! I’m sorry for what I did! I swear!” he cried. “Please, have mercy!"
The front part of the rat’s body now rested inside the cut. The skin around Kenneth's nipple moved like a tongue moving inside a cheek.
It had to hurt.
“Yeah, now I’m sure you are sorry.”
The rat busied itself by eating moob fat. Its tail wave in the air.
I pressed the razor against his cheek and pushed down, blood trickled down his face. It was beautiful.
“You little bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Kenneth said.
I giggled. “Oh, there’s the sick pervert I know. I knew you were in there, hiding.”
His eyes displayed contempt.
Placing the razor on the top of his scalp, I said, “This one might hurt more.”
Kenneth wriggled. “No!”
“Do not move, or I will make it really hurt.”
He stopped moving.
The razor made a complete circle about four inches in diameter. The blade slicing through hair and scalp, scraping skull.
Blood leaked out, dribbling down the sides of his head.
I put the razor on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
Grabbed a section of hair, inside the circle. I pulled up, a circular section of scalp lifted.
I threw it on the floor.
Kenneth glared at the piece of scalp.
Opened the cage again, my hand was wrapped in the shirt. I grabbed another rat by the tail. Placed it on Kenneth's bloody skull. The rodent instantly started consuming the blood.
“No!” Kenneth moved his head, attempting to shake the rat off, but it found its footing.
True Monsters Page 4
