by H. Caswell
Island of Misconception
In the mind, of a Narcissistic; Deranged killer …
Lies, a hidden secret …
Known, not even, to … Himself
H.C. Caswell All Rights Reserved 2014
Prelude
Is it possible; Alfred Richardson; only son of Thomas Richardson, a prominent psychologist, and Mildred Richardson, a miserable, demeaning housewife, to become, a well profound psychotherapist; in the small city of the Bronx? The early 1960’s can be a challenge.
Alfred, finds himself in a dilemma, when called into his Professor’s study. A meeting with his partner and teacher; now becoming, a clear picture to Alfred, of his demise; within the walls of his school. Will, Alfred, achieve his goals, or will his own sickness; rape him, of his destiny? What about Claire or Old man Charlie; are they the ones suited to raise Alfred to his glory; or are they too; wired to … fail?
I must warn you! The journey you are about to embark on, the tortured souls; you will encounter, as Alfred finds his way in the world, may lead you into the mind of a monster, yourself; may not escape. Do you think you can handle Alfred and his sickness, or will you find yourself perhaps; feeling trapped within the walls of the island?
You have been warned of Alfred; entering now … Is YOUR own Risk!
How deep within the mind of a Narcissistic Killer will … You … go?
If … you dare….
Though, some events have taken place, as well; some of the places are real; it has not been with Alfred.
To begin my series ‘Un-breakable chain Within’
I pondered where to begin.
As you will see, Alfred … wanted to be first. He is such a … Narcissistic Bastard!
H. C. Caswell
It did not take me long to decide my First dedication. He is the one, who allows this to be … Possible. My best friend, First fan and Husband. I thank you for Believing in me! (Jeremy)
Second goes to my parents. First… My Mom who has somehow managed to see My Greatest Achievements’ before they appeared. (Rhonda)
And to my AKA … In-laws. I call them MOM and Dad! The first to buy my Novel and the rest of my works. Who seem to find time, to talk with folks and get my book out there … Without your support … this may not be possible. (John and Debbie)
And my two Special friends; Bonnie and Helen. They, the first to fully read and offer advice as well … ask for more! Thank YOU!
H.C.Caswell
Island of Misconception
Chapter One
The sun light; beaming through a large bay window; bright enough to only illuminate, the silhouette of Alfred’s, Professor. Alfred, trying not to squint, keeping his posture erect, as he listens, to the babblings of his behavior of conduct coming from a monotone voice. The blackened shadow, leans forward; reaching for a deep dark wooden box; beneath, a stack of papers. Alfred reclines back, within a deep green, leather chair; crossing his arms over his scrawny chest. A breeze, whispers in from the bay window; rustling the papers, for a brief second; drowning out the annoying voice … ‘Alfred; watches the dark figure ease back’… A flicker and a flame; as the aroma of sweet cherry tobacco; floats on upon the gentle breeze. For a brief moment, a thought; occursto Alfred, ‘a pipe … may indeed suit myself well’
Alfred, has no intention of paying mind to the on goings coming from his, Professor. After all, Alfred, is a high honor student, of this prestige college. Psychology is his, passion. He has no care of the insight to what his Professor; sees as barbaric, or unethical. Alfred, certainly will not partake in a reasoning with such an annoyance of a man. “Alfred,‘Truman, leans forward, his hands upon his desk’… you truly would be a great physiologist … if you could just stop … all these maddening … idealist ways… ‘his voice raised’ to treat people. We feel;‘Truman’s jaw tenses, as he swallows’ allowing you to attend here any further could … jeopardize the integrity … of our school. Unless you contain your perverse ways, there is not much more I can do for, ‘pausingbriefly’, or with you." Alfred glares at the silhouette. His gaze; piercing. But, none the less, a dispute, he shall not have. He is, after all, a proper young lad, and his mother certainly, had not raised him to; grumble with his elders. Clearing his throat, and standing up, Alfred, reaches his hand out across the desk, as a truths ' shake. The professor squints his brow; almost as if, confused at the moment. As he takes the hand of Alfred; he curiously looks upon the student; before him. Alfred, has no expression of anger. Gazing upon Alfred, no one would ever believe this young, fragile-looking man, to be any threat. There is nothing about the size of the lad, in height, nor build that could ever suggest; harmful. His blond hair; slicked back neatly, never out of place. Yes, Alfred, a clean cut; well-manicured young man. He, always dressed in the most peculiar suits and thick black rim glasses that hid, his sky blue, but, mysterious eyes. His manors, always very firm; never missing a Sir or Madam, in questions or acknowledgment. It has taken three years, for his professor, to fully begin to understand; Alfred Richardson; as well as, who he is behind; the persona. It is not the outward view of Alfred, anyone should fear.‘Truman; meets the gaze, from Alfred’s eyes; fear, reaching,his heart’ It is what appears behind those glasses; that one should conceive as most; threatening. Alfred, quickly retrieves his hand, wiping it upon his pant leg, knowing, the moisture from the professor’s hand, to be a sign, of fearand nervousness‘Alfred smirks with his achievement’“Good day, Sir.” He quickly races to the door. Alfred stops briefly, at the door's entrance; looking back at the professor, who is just beginning to stand.“You know Professor; this shall not be the last you see; or hear of … me. My greatness …will be … the talk of states. You, sir … and this so-called prestige school …have just made a profound … mistake." Truman turns; gazing out the bay window, the breeze blowing harder now; as the papers from the desk, fall onto the floor. Truman knows, Alfred, has given his warning. ‘Quietly, he whispers to himself’ “I fear this to be true … Alfred, but not in greatness, will you be known, but, in the … madness."
Alfred’s swift pace; makes others notice, as he clears out his desk. The students know of his educational demise, and most, would agree. There are very few, with the exception, in awe, of Alfred’s ways of therapy treatment. But even those who may agree, have no potential, as far as Alfred is concerned. After all, no students’ achieve a desk of their own, unless you are equal to the greatness of the professors. And Alfred, certainly met that. In fact, he taught many classes with his once mentor. But, all has changed. And Alfred is led to his destiny. He gazes at the blackboard,Alfred Richardson,written in yellow chalk just belowprofessorJames Truman. Throwing his worn leather shoulder bag upon himself, he rushes over and grips the eraser, swiftly; taking his name off the board. Yellow chalk dust flies into the air. He turns to see the class filling with eager students. They watch as he swiftly rounds his desk and reaches the door. He stops and looks back, eyes, upon him from every student. Saying not a word he smiles, his, deviant unsettling grin, and leaves the room; forever. Alfred, races through the corridor, to the tall dark, wooden doors. Reaching his hand out upon the gold door handle, he looks back, in the halls of his school. The corridor, of fine wood craftsmanship. The stained glass windows, beautifully placed above the classroom doors. The white marble flooring and the smell, of knowledge. As he pushes the door open, the bright sunlight, hits his pale face as he steps down, upon the three granite steps, into a landscape; dressed as Eden. As he races down the winding path; Alfred, accidently bumping; a female student with her arms full of books, as some fall to the ground. He stops for a moment, and looks back. Her long, golden blonde hair,
gently falling off her shoulders, across her face; as she bends down to pick up her books. A vision of beauty, for a moment; he admires, but quickly turns and continues, his way. He hears her shout “Jerk!” He thinks about hollering back, ‘sorry’, but what is the point of that; nonsense; he will never see her again. Alfred, hears the roar of the city bus coming, so he picks up speed; reaching the bus stop, just in time. He is breathless. Alfred realizes; with his panting; exercise has never been on his agenda. As he takes a step onto the bus; he quickly glances back, for one, final time, upon the school, he spent so much time within. ‘His gut; tight,with the unknowing’ Resuming his way he climbs the steps, and finds a seat behind the driver. As the sound of squealing, lifting breaks, the bus moves forward; so does Alfred; as he gazes out the window, to the world of wonder.
Chapter 2
Spending time in a well- established library, has become, Alfred’s’ new idealistic place; to conduct his research, and entertainment. Here, he can spend many hours; captivated in silence; unlike his school. Never having to answer any more questions; nor entertaining another’s thoughts; he finds himself fully engaged, in solitude and knowledge. You would think, a twenty-five year young lad, would want to dance, and drink, and mingle, with the ladies. Not Alfred. Although, he fancies women; especially a well-endowed blonde. He, even occasionally finding himself engorged, in his trouser; when such an enticing view comes into the library. Finding, sometimes, even having to rub himself off, behind a book on his lap, if the looker stays seated in his view; for too long. He rarely finds a need at all. After all, his studies, have never left him feeling inadequate, in any way. His mother Mildred, a stern, cold-hearted, lonely woman, always letting him know, what a skinny, worthless, unattractive, specimen, he is, when Alfred would ask about the girls. She would always tell him; how the girls want a big, strong man. One that can pick her up, and carry her to the bed, and engulf her, as she begged. And, she, always reminding Alfred, he, certainly was not that. Oh, she would laugh; her hideous, laugh. So, Alfred, asked no more, and he never bothered, finding company with his female peers. His education and research entertained his being.
Today, began like any other; gathering books about the human mind. A thunderstorm; brewing in the mid hot summer heat. The skies, a deep dark gray, the rain pouring down, in the distance, rumbles of thunder, and a spark of lightning, just off shore, here in the Bronx. Alfred, places a pile of books down on the four foot, dark maple wood, table. Only one chair set here. Alfred, has convinced the Librarian; to allow him to use the table in the rear of the big open room; under a tall narrow window; all for himself. He explained to her“I need to be kept alone … with my studies, and the books they… coverthe table”. He spoke of his favorite spot, to conduct his reading and how he, does not require any assistance or friendship. That, this small table, and window; are in a perfect location, to the bookshelves. How he covered it with the material he needed, and how much time it would save him; if he could just have that one table; in the back corner. Alfred, putting the sugar on the cake“I promise dear lady … I will … stay late, and help … with restocking the bookcases … at the end of the night.” Knowing the human mind so well, and knowing how tedious the stocking of the material back in its rightful places, can be, Alfred knew it was a win, for both situations. One she simply; could not refuse. And Alfred, as always; correct.
Alfred has learned well; from his father, before his departure. Thomas, a well profound psychologist himself. For years, his father operated a home office, in their big Victorian home. People, would come all hours; of the day, and night. Thomas, always reluctant to say no to anyone in need of him. Despite all of the money Thomas was making; Mildred, despised it all. She as well, hated Thomas; using her as a study. The fighting between the two; would go on for hours; as Thomas would counsel Mildred. Alfred, would lie in bed listening to his father’s brilliance; snickering under his bed sheets. Alfred, wants to be just like his dad; only much more. Yes, Alfred, indeed; kept a watchful eye and ear to his father’s brilliance; knowing someday, he would, achieve his own stature.
It was a frigged, nor’easter snowstorm, late evening call; that broke the camel’s back. Everyone in the house, always forbidden, to enter Thomas’s office, absolute forbidden; especially his useless; no good for nothing; nagging bitch, of a wife, Mildred. Of course, Alfred, his beloved son; the only perfect thing, ever to come from his miserable situation, an exception. Mildred watched from her bedroom window; on the third floor, as a woman was carried inside her home. The wind, whipping the snow; making it hard to see clearly. The situation, looks peculiar, and she believes she witnessed her son Alfred; helping his father; to carry a woman inside their home. Unsure of the truth, she sits in her favorite Victorian style, red velvet chair; reading her book. An hour drifts by slowly, when the lights; begin to flicker. Her first thoughts,‘It must be the storm’another hour passes, with the lamps still flashing; she decides to check, on her son. As she opens the door; she finds, Alfred; not there. Mildred, races down the winding wooden staircases, to the first floor. There, strange noises, coming from down … the hall, she stops for a moment, to catch her breath. Quietly, she sneaks down to her husband’s office door. Carefully, with ease, she turns the clear crystal knob, as the door slowly begins to open. She steadies her hand; as she carefully peers her head inside. There, beyond belief; of her own eyes; she witnesses a blonde woman, lying on her husband’s desk; her head dangling over the edge; her hair, flowing down to the floor. Her arms, flopped over, the sides of the desk. Thomas, her own husband; straddled over her, his naked buttocks, pulsing up, and down. She looks for Alfred; who she finds, in a dark corner with an electrical cord in his grip; wearing a big smile on his smug, little face. Mildred watches in horror, her stomach, twisting in aggony, as her husband pulls out his excited penis; telling their son Alfred; “Again ‘breathless’ … my boy …try again.” The woman’s body, begins jolting, as the electricity penetrates her. Mildred,‘standing in shock; disgusted; to what she sees’ listens, as Alfred, snickers. Thomas orders Alfred, in a heightened voice“STOP… let … us try again”. Alfred, pulls the plug from the outlet, as Thomas places, his excited self back into the woman, again. Mildred, consumed with sickness, as he; her husband engages the lady; once more. Horrified, Mildred races over to Thomas; she begins punching Thomas over, and over, on his back, with her fury.She screams in anger “How… could YOU” her nails; clawing Thomas’s wet skin. Alfred holding the plug; a gleam of such glory; as he awaits his fathers’ response. Thomas; forcefully swings his left arm around; slapping Mildred across her cheek; with such force; her head snaps back; as a red welt quickly emerges; he glares at Mildred; his eyes dark and full of rage; tells her“REMOVE … Yourself from MY study … before I … KILL You … you are Nothing … but a WORTHLESS … NO GOOD … Bitch! LEAVE … NOW!” The look in Thomas’s eyes so penetrating; so, fearful. Of all the years of their marriage; she has never seen this look in her husband. Never has he; once put a hand upon her. Now; this?? … Mildred, quickly races; trying to grab for Alfred; who evades; his mother’s grip. He too; bares, a look; Mildred never had seen, in his fifteen-year face. She plunges out of the office; screaming, and bawling; as she races up the stairs, she trips, and stumbles; hitting her knee; blood spills from her wound. Finally, breathless, and frightened; she reaches her bedroom floor. She finds refuge, slamming, her bedroom door; locking it behind her. Anger, and fear build within her. She flops herself on to her bed, pulling her pillow over her face, to hide the flickering of lights. She releases a horrific scream,“NO… DEAR GOD … NO” within her pillow. Tears and spit soak the case, as she allows her emotions to, release.
When she awakes, the following morning, the sun is shining. She proceeds to gather herself and head to the first floor. There, in the living room, the two devils; sit themselves. Thomas and Alfred, sitting upon a red, and gold, velvet couch. They invite her“Please woman … sit in the golden high back chair; across from us… we have much to discuss” bot
h, containing a smug look on their faces. Alfred is quite amused, in a distressed look; upon his mothers’ face. He has never witnessed his mother; tortured with such hate and a dissatisfying look. Her hair a mess; her small dark eyes; swollen; from her endless cries. She sits quiet; stomach twisted, into knots; starring at the two monsters; her anguish, eats her; alive. Unable to understand Thomas’s theory, as he playsout his crazy antics of reason “Mildred … I or shall I say… ‘as he grins’ WE … do not expect … you … to Ever …understand. We are NOT … monsters. We are SIMPLY … trying to reach the DARK … Secrets.” She knowing, her husband is nothing; but a monster, agrees; only to his … leaving. In return, of her keeping her mouth shut“Your wish … I shall grant. And, Alfred, will remain with YOU. I, promise to leave plenty of money … for the well-being of … my family. Of course … you see ...‘smiling’ I am only truly … caring of Alfred’s well-being. I could at this time … of my life … careless … about you. You have … been NOTHING … but the worst mistake … of my life. I should have … listened. BUT … if I had … I would not have my … SON! ‘Alfred sitting there, his face gleaming with happiness, while listening to his father’ I shall pay for all of … Alfred’s schooling. It is … most important to me.” Thomas knows, his son is destined, for greatness; he will do, everything in his power; to ensure Alfred, achieves his glory. Of course, the two, Thomas, and Alfred already knew what Mildred’s decision would be, and had spoke prior to her coming down, unannounced to Mildred; a promise from father to son. “My son … I will also put millions … into a secret account; only for YOU … when you have turned the age of … twenty-five. Speak … NOTHING … of his to your mother. You … are most IMPORTANT to me … my son”The accord now made; Thomas, packs some of his belongings and leaves the home. He is not heard from; again.
