Love You To Death: A Psychological Crime Thriller
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means. Including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the Copyright holder.
©Copyright R McDermott 2014
The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Prologue
Carl Dawson is a serial killer. Lately, something has been missing. The thrill of the kill has gone.
One evening he does something stupid. He attacks without a plan and it all goes horribly wrong. In his panic to escape capture he runs out into the road and is hit by a truck.
What happens to a serial killer when he loses his memory.
When Carl awakes to the beautiful face of Susie Brown, the nurse and Angel who he believes saved him that night, he is totally smitten.
Carl tries to woo Susie but she is drawn to Detective Ben Guyer, the man investigating the killing of a young girl on the night of the traffic accident.
As his night terrors and emerging memories send Carl into the downward spiral, Susie and Ben become close.
Who is Carl Dawson? Is he still the monster or can the man that he now wants to be save his soul?
LOVE YOU TO DEATH
(A Psychological Thriller)
Carl
She was still looking at me as the blood ran into her eyes. I relished in the feeling of absolute power. Could she see me through all that blood? The terror in her eyes could mean yes, or just be because she feared her own death.
Holding my hand firmly over her mouth to prevent the annoying whimpers from getting too loud, I cursed at my complete stupidity. What the heck had prompted me to just grab a girl off the path? Okay, it was dark enough, and we were well out of sight of any passerby, having dragged her quickly into the trees. Still, I prided myself on proper planning; there was no art or finesse in an opportunistic kill.
She must have hit her head as we rolled. It wasn’t a bad thing as her attempts to struggle were minimal as a result. I pressed the knife to her throat, bidding her to keep still with one look whilst I attempted to complete my little work of art.
My need to cause unimaginable pain to living things was something that started at roughly the age of nine with a half dead mouse that our cat had brought home with it.
As I poked and prodded the injured animal, I saw the fear in its eyes and delighted in its desperate struggles. That day I discovered and revelled in the feeling of true power.
The power to take a life and watch as that life fades from your victims eyes is one that has no equal. I was too young to understand the sexual excitement it caused at that time, all I knew was that it felt electric and I wanted to do it again, and again, and again.
I have no grand explanation for why I am the way I am. I was not abused or bullied as a child.
My parents were from a middle class background and I had a very loving childhood. Of course, I never showed them what was hidden beneath the skin. They were far too normal to even comprehend the world I lived in.
The ugliness that was there in my soul was something that I kept for my own pleasures. I knew I was bad, but I accepted it. I didn’t have any longing to be like the other kids. As far as I was concerned they were pathetic losers who would amount to nothing and be forgotten when they died.
I didn’t intend for that to be my fate.
Over the years I experimented in the torture of many different types of animal. The neighbourhood was always bemoaning the most recent dog-knapping or the poor little cat that failed to come home. When I spotted posters on the trees along the street I would smile secretly. Those posters would extend my enjoyment by reminding me of all I had done to that particular animal. Those vivid memories brought on such a visceral reaction that, as I grew older, I often had to rush home so I could tend to the raging hard-on brought on by such memories.
Of course I always knew that one day I would progress my interest to larger targets. After all, an animal cannot really beg, or cry out, or even scream and I longed to experience that ultimate pleasure. My dick was beginning to agree.
When most adolescent boys were jacking off to porn magazines, I was picturing my own version of a snuff movie in my head. Just as I imagined said girl breathing her last and the light fading from her eyes I would explode with violence all over my hand.
Sometimes it also angered me. The one occasion I decided to lose my virginity with my first girlfriend I was unable to get hard. Normal sexual responses just did not happen. She tried to suck me off but the longer it went on and the more flaccid I stayed, the angrier I got. I broke it off with her and never tried dating again.
And so my life went on, everyone around me leaving me to my own devices, branding me as a somewhat reclusive geek. Apart from the odd bit of name calling no-one bothered me throughout college. It was as if they could feel the danger in me and decided it was best for them to leave well alone. They were right about that.
When finally my last week in college arrived, it also marked my first human kill.
I had been trailing a petite little blonde that had caught my eye. I had taken a few weeks to observe her habits. I knew where she lived, what friends she had and the fact that she often had to walk home due to being on a tight budget this close to the end of term. I knew that on a Thursday evening she always stayed home alone to study and had never seen anyone visit on that evening of the week.
I also knew there was no boyfriend on the scene that would cause a problem. In fact she was the perfect candidate and as soon as I felt fully ready I decided it was time.
There was something broken and fragile about her that made me think she would probably welcome the gift I would give. After all I am not inhuman I assured myself. At that time I still had a little bit of a conscience and needed to see my actions as bringing a broken soul some peace, while at the same time assuaging the urges that were getting harder to tamp down.
I spotted her walking along the street on her way home and as I had planned, pulled my beat up old car alongside.
“Hey, it’s Angie right? We take history together. I’m Carl” I called from the rolled down window as I coasted my car alongside her. She looked at me and frowned.
“Uuuh, Carl?” she asked
“Yep, I noticed you walking and decided to be a Good Samaritan and offer a lady a lift” I smiled my most charming smile. Not a natural thing for me but, hey ho, it appeared to have worked, she was blushing. I was not surprised that she found me attractive. I’ll admit I am not at all bad to look at, especially since I started using contacts and ditched the brown rimmed specs.
Smiling back at me “If you don’t mind then that would be great Carl. I have quite a long walk home. Are you sure it won’t be a bother?” She moved towards the passenger side not really expecting me to retract my offer.
Once she was belted in we set off. My palms were kind of sweaty in anticipation and it was difficult to keep up with her efforts at chatting. To be honest I just wanted to slap a gag on her right now. I made the effort to smile and turned on the radio putting the volume up loud which did the trick. She sat back and looked out the window.
By the time Angie realised we were heading out of town it was too late. I had already scouted out an old shed near an allotment site and my bag had already been hidden there on a previous visit. When she asked where we were going, I said that I wanted to show her my quiet place as she seemed like a nice girl. She giggled and I was subjected to those googly eyes again. A little flattery and she was literally putty in my hands, agreeing to come along withou
t any argument. I chuckled; she probably thought we were going to do a bit of innocent making out.
The whole thing went down totally differently to how I planned it in my head. It was bumbled and too quick and the mess left behind was disgraceful. I was ashamed of myself. She was a fighter and a screamer and I panicked, sticking my blade into her neck to try and stop the noise. Unfortunately it hit her jugular and the resulting bleed out meant that her life ended far too quickly. I had never seen blood literally arc into the air. On another day I might have been impressed.
I had planned on spending a few hours taking my time with her delightful body. The mere thought of her fear had me rock hard. As she bled out I dropped my pants and sheathed myself, pushing her skirt up roughly and ripping off her knickers.
It was quick, barely 30 seconds and I came hard as her shocked eyes stilled along with her heart. At least I hadn’t lost my virginity to a fucking corpse I chuckled to myself, now that would have been sick.
I then spent a whole lot longer covering her and the whole place in bleach. I had planned ahead to bring a change of clothes and alcohol wipes. I would burn any evidence as soon as I got home. Satisfied there was nothing left that could incriminate me I set the shed alight and left.
There was a bit of excitement about the missing girl for a couple of weeks but as college term ended for the summer most of the students moved back home and the investigation ground to a halt. I decided to plan a little better the next time. I had no intention of spending so much time on laborious clean ups in then future. I wanted a lot more out of it next time.
It was too easy really, which probably led me to where I am now. There had been many more since then, always well researched before I snatched them away. I also ensured that I always had somewhere secluded and equipped to take them to. I discovered that varying my methods and ensuring that each girl was very different kept the law enforcement agencies on their toes. I did not have a type, I had no mommy issues and this threw their investigations. I loved to play games with the stupid cops who invaded every crime scene, each convinced they were the one that was going to get me.
I had also discovered that killing a spirited girl, one whose love of life made her want to fight for it, was so much more satisfying than effectively aiding a suicidal victim. A drug addict was no fun, after all, they were already killing themselves slowly so they seemed to just lie down and die. This was not satisfying at all.
A girl that wanted to live would promise me anything. She would degrade herself again and again with the promise of freedom. One strong, spirited girl could keep me amused for as much as six months.
I liked to think I gave them as much pleasure as they did me, after all I had discovered that compared to other men I was extremely well endowed. This fact also caused fear and that was just fucking delicious.
So here I was at the age of thirty and something was missing. I didn’t have a fucking clue what it was but I was starting to have trouble getting hard with a girl again. I had almost dissected the last one in an attempt to get my fucking dick up, but the little fucker was not playing ball.
And that was why I found myself desperate to try something new in a vain attempt to correct the issue. I came to the conclusion that it was all the planning that took the excitement out of the chase.
I had been walking back through the park after work (yes, I do have a job and no, not a soul suspects anything) when I spotted her coming towards me. She was average height with brown hair, not the usual blonde I went for. Her hood was up but I could see she was cute from her little bow shaped lips and button nose.
In an instant we passed and, taking a quick check around that no-one else was nearby, I swung back following her as quietly as possible.
As we came to a T in the path I put my hand over her mouth from behind and dragged her back into the trees. She struggled and wiggled against me and I felt something stir in my pants. It was working! Euphoria spread through me and I doubled my efforts to get out of sight, eager to start.
Pulling her further in off the beaten track, I tried to think swiftly about how to do this. Noticing a hollow ditch not far away next to a fallen tree, I fell to the ground and rolled us both into it.
The fall knocked the breath out of her as I landed on top with a grunt. This gave me time to reach into my belt and withdraw my switchblade.
When I held it up the girl froze, eyes widening in terror.
My cock surged. The adrenaline of being in a public place mixed with the terror in her eyes appeared to have solved my impotence.
I was so happy at this point that I almost missed the sound of voices nearby. Another minute or two and I would have had my trousers down and fucking the life out of her, literally.
Luckily the sounds broke through the haze of arousal and I cursed, realising that I needed to move quickly or risk being caught.
I looked down at my little brown haired beauty with regret. My dick was screaming out for relief. I had no choice but to concede defeat this time.
“I am so sorry my love but we’re not going to get the quality time that we deserve.” I plunged my knife in as hard as I could just below her rib cage aiming for her heart.
Her whimpers grew softer and tears leaked out of her eyes mixing with the blood from her head wound. It left pretty pink trails down each side of her face. I kissed her lips softly.
“Time to go to sleep now baby” I whispered in her ear.
I knew I was taking a monumentally big risk by staying any longer but I had to watch the eyes and sure enough I caught the moment of death, watching her spirit depart in the fading light of the evening.
I heard a shout and jumped up, immediately running deeper into the trees. I wasn’t sure if the shout was because someone had spotted me, or just someone messing about in the park. I was damned if I was hanging around to find out.
There was blood on my jacket and I had to slip out of it before it spread onto my clothes. I just couldn’t take the risk of anyone seeing me like that.
I rolled it up and hid it under a large growth of bramble, intending to return as soon as possible to collect it.
Another shout in the distance and I ran like hell towards the other side of the wooded area. There was another exit gate in that direction.
I was still running, although I really should try to walk calmly so as not to draw attention. My state of panic appeared to be controlling me at that moment.
As I ran through the gate I took a quick look back, while still moving forward.
A bright light blinded me and I was dimly aware of a horn sounding. The light was so bright I couldn’t see a thing and staggered about almost falling on my face.
The last thing I heard before pain and blackness claimed me was the screech of tires, then oblivion.
Susie
All I remember from that night was that my feet were killing me. It had been a gruelling day at the hospital and I had just done ten hours straight with only a twenty minute break.
This was becoming the story of my life. All work and definitely no time for play. I was too tired most nights to do more than throw on a microwave meal or if I fancied a change, call for a takeaway. Then I would drag my sorry butt to the bedroom, drop my clothes where they fell and shove on my pyjamas (and no they are nowhere near sexy, just in case you were wondering) I said to the little voice in my head that I had started to talk to.
Maybe I needed to get a cat. Isn’t that what lonely old spinsters do? If I didn’t get a date soon I may as well become a mad cat lady and be done with it.
I chuckled at that. Better not tell anyone that I thought I heard voices or they will label me crazy instead of simply exhausted from overwork and extremely lonely.
That evening I was shuffling home trying to get the energy up to actually lift my feet as I walked. It was a failed but gallant effort.
I was about to decide whether to risk a quick short cut through the park, it was dark, so not advisable, although it would shave at least fifteen minutes off
my walk home.
As I approached the road junction near the park entrance, there was an almighty noise and lots of screaming and shouting. I then heard the most awful thud and a pained scream that will stay with me for a long time.
People were running around everywhere, some calling the emergency services, others just running away in shock.
I rushed across the road to see if, as a nurse, I could be of help. Looking down I saw what looked like a young man lying in a crumpled heap on the road. He had been hit by a van and his leg and arm were at a most un-natural angle.
Pushing the bystanders out of the way I took off my coat and rolled it. Using this I gently rolled the man slightly onto his side and used my coat to prop him there. Someone handed me a sweater and I used this to cushion his head against the cold hardness of the road.
I quickly checked his vitals and saw that he was alive for now but did not move anything else. I made sure his tongue wasn’t likely to choke him.
I could hear the sirens getting closer and asked the crowd to give us some room. The ambulance pulled up and two paramedics came rushing over with a back board.
I told them quickly all I knew and they proceeded to fit a drip and splint the obviously broken bones. Then they fitted the back board and neck support just in case of any spinal damage. You can never be too careful with a road accident.
When the paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher he moaned in pain and my heart went out to him. He looked so young; I wondered if he had a wife or family waiting for him at home. It was hard to make out his face clearly as there was a lot of blood. His hair looked a light brown but was currently matted to his forehead.
When they were finished preparing him they loaded him onto the stretcher and then into the ambulance. One of the medics turned, asking me if I was coming along. I found myself agreeing and jumped up into the back taking a seat near the head end of the trolley. Exhausted or not I just couldn’t bring myself to just walk away without seeing that he was going to be all right.