Dreams and Reality Set 3: Cannibal Dreams and Butchered Dreams

by Hadena James

  Malachi and I were deemed unacceptable phone operators and tip screeners. We headed outside. The bitter cold burned my skin as the wind whipped across my face. I lit the cigarette I didn’t want. I had never been one to smoke in the cold, it changed the taste of the cigarette.

  “Nina believes that Gertrude has somehow been listening to her phone calls with your mother.” Malachi said after lighting his own cigarette. Malachi smoked irregularly. He seemed unable to be addicted to anything other than adrenaline. He also chewed, drank, ate things that would never pass between my lips, had random sex partners whose names he couldn’t remember, and had charisma that made people like him. The differences between us were vast. The similarities were scary.

  “That would explain how he always knew where I was.” I stubbed out the cigarette after only two puffs.

  “If he kills me, will you avenge my death?” Malachi asked.

  “Who?” I returned the question.

  “Your grandfather.”

  “Yes, but not in the way you think.”

  “You won’t kill him.”

  “I don’t know.” I thought for several seconds, shivering in the cold. Malachi stepped in closer, blocking some of the wind. “If he kills you, I’ll want to kill him. Ultimately, his fate would rest in the hands of Gabriel. If Gabriel gave me the go ahead to kill him, I would. If he said no, then I wouldn’t.”

  “Does Gabriel know he keeps hold of your leash?”

  “Yes.” I told Malachi. “In this job, someone has to. Nyleena can only do so much. Xavier and Lucas are too submissive to do it. That leaves Gabriel.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you?”

  “Not in the least,” I admitted. “If left unchecked, I’d be exactly like The Butcher. Nyleena’s done a good job, but that was when the monsters hunted me. Now, I hunt them. Do you realize that every time I come in close proximity to one, that’s my instinctual reaction? I feel a need to kill them, to rid the world of the evil and chaos they cause. But in doing so, I have to answer to Gabriel. That stops me.”

  “Answering to Gabriel is more scary than answering to a court or jury?”

  “Yes, because Gabriel respects me for who I am.” I thought for a moment. “And he likes me. I don’t think I understand friendship, not really. I know I like Gabriel, he’s an interesting person, easy to talk to, easy to get along with, but real friendship sometimes seems like a foreign emotion. I think I have it with Nyleena and with you, I would also put Lucas and Xavier in that group. You all like me, I have no idea why, but you do. And that’s great. I’d die for any of you, but with Gabriel, there’s something else there. He is an alpha in his own right, not like you or me, but still an alpha. The fact that most alphas instantly dislike me gives him some power over me. I don’t want to disappoint him or get him into a situation that might result in him losing his job as team leader.”

  “Is that because you like him as team leader or because you don’t think you’ll adjust as well to another team leader?”

  “I believe I like having him as team leader. He’s not average.”

  “He isn’t a genius like you or Xavier or Lucas.”

  “I don’t think I’m talking about intelligence. I instantly clicked with Lucas and Xavier, just like I did with you. Gabriel I had to warm up to. I don’t normally stay interested in a person long enough to warm up to them.”

  “Is this some sort of sexual feeling on your part?” Malachi frowned.

  “No,” I reassured him. Malachi was very concerned about my sexuality. He knew my biggest secret. “It isn’t sexual or romantic, I just feel a need to protect him. Some of that is transference, Nyleena really likes him, and so I have to protect him for her. But the other part is just him. He’s charismatic, like you, but his is genuine. If I died, I think he would be the third most hurt person by my death. That means something.”

  “I would be upset.”

  “Yes, you would be, in your own psychotic way, you’d be devastated and probably start laying waste to entire villages. Xavier and Lucas would be hell bent on revenge, that’s how they’d grieve. Gabriel though, Gabriel would truly grieve. He’d shed tears and say a nice eulogy and take care of Nyleena and my mother. He would want revenge, but it wouldn’t be his first priority.”

  “I’d take care of Nyleena and your mother.”

  “Really? This is about you?” I frowned at him. “Malachi, if a bolt of lightning happens to strike me and suddenly I become interested in sexual relationships, I’ll call you first. As I said, my feelings for Gabriel aren’t sexual. They’re,” I paused, realizing exactly what it was about Gabriel that got to me. “He’s the brother I never had. He sort of reminds me of Eric, before Eric started killing people.”

  “Ah,” Malachi nodded once. “What you mean is that Gabriel is more of a brother to you than Eric was and you like the sibling banter and feelings associated with it. You had a brother, but the relationship was strained and you missed being a little sister and having a big brother. Gabriel fulfills both of those needs. So, you let him put you on a leash because as your older brother, he has the right to tell you what is right and wrong. He fills the exact same role that Nyleena fills.”

  “I think so.” I bit my tongue. “Nyleena’s my sister and you can’t tell anyone.” I blurted out.

  “Good lord, you can’t keep a secret to save your soul.” Malachi said.

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “No, I didn’t know she was your sister by blood. I’m more appalled that it took you all of five seconds to make the decision that you had to tell me. It’s a good thing you aren’t involved with national security, we’d be screwed.”

  “Why aren’t you surprised if you didn’t know?”

  “I am, this is my surprised face,” Malachi said.

  “Strange, it looks like your everyday face. There is no expression.”

  “Should I fake it for you?”

  “No, the moment is lost. I swore my mother I wouldn’t tell anyone. Meaning you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Unlike you, I can keep a secret.” Malachi said as Gabriel dashed out the door.

  “Holy hell, Ace, you were right. The Butcher just called and told us we should check property records in the name of Tennyson Unger.”

  “That’s strange,” I looked at Malachi.

  “Yes, it is,” Malachi frowned at me. “Are you sure about the name?”

  “Positive, why?” Gabriel was now frowning, his excitement replaced with angst.

  “Tennyson Unger was my grandfather,” Malachi told him. “And I am unaware of any connection between him and the Clachans. Furthermore, he was also a psychopath.”

  “Your grandfather was a psychopath too?” Gabriel asked.

  “Oh yes,” Malachi answered. “One day, I’ll tell you stories. He’s dead, has been for a while. All his property was divided up and sold at auctions. No one in the family wanted it.”

  I wanted to say more, but didn’t. I remembered that summer. Malachi lying on his stomach, unable to roll over because the whip marks on his back were so bad that bone had been exposed. I bit my tongue and Malachi gave me a nod. He must have approved of my sudden silence.

  Thirty-Two

  I had been to the Unger property once as a child. Malachi’s mother had insisted on escorts to go clean out her father’s belongings. My mother, Malachi, and I had gone with her. She had literally quaked with fear the entire time we were there. After a few hours, she decided it wasn’t worth the effort and just sold the house with all the contents still in it.

  Tennyson Unger hadn’t been a serial killer. He’d been a brutal sadist. From what I remembered, his only pleasure came when he was beating something. The only time I had met him had been at Malachi’s house. He’d kicked the family dog and slapped Malachi’s younger brother. This had led to Malachi being horsewhipped and his grandfather going to jail for a short time. The incident didn’t make Tennyson Unger any easier to get along with, it made it worse. Malachi’s family cut
complete contact with him. He died alone, with a dog, that he had abused and because Karma is entertained by suffering, it took six days for a neighbor to find him, by then the dog had found he was a decent food source.

  The property might have changed hands, but it looked the same. The house was still rundown. It needed more than a few coats of paint. The porch looked dangerous. The shutters were hanging at odd angles or missing completely. The roof had patches on it. The yard was dead, not just dormant for winter, but obviously dead. It was mud, missing the customary dead crunchy grass that happened during a Missouri winter.

  The house set about three hundred yards from the road. However, the property itself was massive. Tennyson Unger had been a farmer and he’d been paranoid. A thick grove of trees with a dirt road lead to the fields he had once plowed. There were a couple of barns and out buildings on the property, but I had never seen them.

  A large double door with stained windows stared at us. However, the door, like the house, was old and worn. One side was slightly crooked, its weight resting against its companion. If it was locked, the entire thing would probably come crashing down out of the frame if we used brute force against it. Of course, we only used brute force, none of us knew the art of picking a lock.

  We didn’t force the door. Instead we stood in the cold, waiting for Gabriel to make a decision. We could go storming into the house or we could search around for the outbuildings and see what goodies they contained. Experience had taught us that serial killers with outbuildings were bad. It gave them space to work with less risk of being caught. It also gave them a more secure location to hide their trophies. Cellars were the second worst thing a serial killer could own. Weapons were bad, but it really was all about location.

  “Cain, Reece, head down the path and see what you find. Bryan and I will take the house,” Gabriel pointed with his head, one hand already on the butt of his gun. I didn’t bother with the formality of pretending I might not need it. I drew mine as Xavier and I began to walk.

  “I’m starting to enjoy these little treks through the wilderness with you,” Xavier whispered.

  “I hate woods,” I told him. “It’s too easy to hide in them.” I looked at the barren branches. It was a little harder to hide in winter, but it was still possible. My ears listened for noises other than our footsteps. Gabriel and John could be heard, searching for a way into the house that didn’t require them to climb the porch of death.

  Xavier drew his gun and put his arm out. I stopped. He pointed. Through the barren trees, I could see a large barn. It was in much better shape than the house. It hadn’t been painted, but it just seemed better kept. The doors weren’t on this side, instead there was a large heating and air conditioning unit. It was weird finding meters running to a house that still bore blood stains, it was creepy to find a barn with a heating and air unit. Especially one as large as this. It wasn’t the normal house model. I didn’t know much about heating or air conditioning units, but I’d bet a pizza it was industrial sized.

  We took a few more steps and another building came into view. This one was smaller. The clapboard had been painted, it wasn’t peeling or fading. It looked like a small barn that had been converted into a house. I frowned and stopped.

  “What?” Xavier asked.

  “The house is a decoy,” I pointed at the second building. “That’s his living quarters.”

  “Why?”

  “Would you live three hundred yards from the road if you were theoretically dead?”

  “No,” Xavier agreed.

  “I don’t know what the hell is in the barn, but that smaller building is where he lives. We should wait for Gabriel and John.”

  “How do you keep a jaguar in Missouri in winter? You heat it up,” Xavier motioned towards the large unit. “That thing would cook a turkey in a house. Jaguars are tropical. It would stay warm enough.”

  “Tropical and subtropical,” I corrected off-handedly, my attention drawn to the ground. There were no tire tracks, but I hadn’t seen a car or truck at the house. A gas station attendant had said he came in regularly to fill up his truck. I took a step backwards, towards a tree. Xavier walked with me, unsure of my intentions, but trusting me. When my back was against the base of a large tree, I slid down it, ending in a crouch. Xavier mimicked me.

  “Nothing in the house,” Gabriel’s voice crackled in my ear. “Not even food.”

  “Have someone find out if there is a second entrance to this property,” I said back. “Also, I think he lives behind the trees. Don’t come down the road.”

  “Where are we going?” Xavier whispered as I stood up.

  “To the barn. I bet there’s an entrance at the back,” I whispered, darting across the path and into the trees. My feet moved on their own, avoiding as much debris as possible. We still sounded like a herd of elephants. I missed Lucas, he could have snuck up on the place quiet as a church mouse.

  Gabriel and John joined us at the back of the barn. We had seen and heard them coming. They were quiet, but not silent, it was hard to sneak through the woods, especially in winter.

  There was a backdoor. It was a small house door. It looked like it had been added after the land changed hands.

  Gingerly, I touched the knob. It was locked. I had a bad feeling about forcing it open. Too much noise when we didn’t know what was on the other side or where the occupants of the living quarters were. Gabriel sighed and stepped forward. He produced something that looked like a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. After a few seconds, the doorknob turned. I frowned at him as I pushed it open and entered.

  Instinct replaced thought when I entered what could be a serial killer’s lair. It did so now. My eyes took in the cage, the smell, the large rocks, the fake cave, the lush trees and bushes, but my mind didn’t process all of it. Instead, my free hand grabbed my Taser. A shadow darted past me.

  I yanked the door shut before anyone could follow me. It slammed hard in the frame. Another shadow moved. Outside, I could hear the men moving, shouting. The door slamming gave us away. I backed up against the cold steel door that I knew we shouldn’t have opened. The first shadow was fast, moving at incredible speed as it shot past me. My brain kicked in. I had just shut myself in a cage with two jaguars. I couldn’t make out the second, it stayed in the shadows, but few things could share a space with a jaguar. I was betting this was a mother and her offspring. I was in her territory and she was not happy.

  It leapt at me, coming from my side. My arm swung and the Taser prongs shot out of it. The creature let out a whimper as it fell limply to the ground, twitching. The next sound was human, a loud scream, I shifted my attention. Outside the cage was a young girl, she looked to be around eight. Her hands were bound above her head and she dangled a few inches off the ground.

  A low growl and movement caught my attention. The creature nearly blindsided me, hitting my arm still. My Taser skittered across the floor and I tumbled to the ground with it on top of me. I put my gun to where I thought the head should be and stopped. The eyes were human. The teeth that clamped onto my arm were also human. They were dull and tore at the skin instead of puncturing it. She gnawed at my wrist.

  Her hair was long, dirty, and matted. Her face and body were scarred. She was completely nude. I understood the human teeth marks suddenly. I punched her in the face with my other hand. Her hands tore at me, digging into my sides. I punched her again, this time her teeth loosened and she let out a guttural noise that didn’t sound human.

  I dropped the Beretta. She wouldn’t know how to use it and I didn’t think shooting her was the answer. Twisting beneath her, I gained leverage and flipped her over onto her side. She grunted, but kept attacking. I punched her in the face again. Her nose broke and blood began oozing from her mouth. This time when she bit me, her front teeth dislodged from her gums and became imbedded in my arm.

  “Damn it!” I screamed at her, rolling over and on top of her. I pushed up on her chin, forcing her head back. My other hand attempted to
secure her wrists. Her ability to fight me off was startling. I planted all my weight on her chest and moved my hand to her throat. My fingers tightened, her face began to turn red. She stopped digging at my side and clawed at my hand. I didn’t let up, but I had a free hand now. I dug out handcuffs and put one on a flailing wrist.

  This was the worst thing I could have done. She freaked out. Her hands no longer clawed at me, trying to get me to release my grip on her throat. They now searched for my face and long nails raked down the side of cheek. The red began to turn a mottled purple. I was hoping she’d pass out soon. She didn’t. Her instinct to survive kept her fighting. I finally released my grip, worried I’d strangle her. She gasped, gulping in air, while trying to throw me off of her.

  I grabbed hold of the handcuff and yanked it, feeling her arm give at the socket. My hands stung as I twisted around and slipped the other cuff onto her ankle. Her free hand dug into my hair and scraped down my back. I jumped off of her. She wiggled on the ground, trying to free herself and attack me. I reached down and grabbed a handful of hair, bringing her close to me.

  “I don’t know if you understand me, but if you do, stop fighting. I’m not here to hurt you,” I told her. She stared back at me, her body becoming motionless. “My name is Aislinn Cain, I’m a US Marshal.”

  She grunted at me. I hoped like hell she understood me. I stood back up, picked up my gun and holstered it. As I grabbed my Taser, she bit my leg. The prongs hit her in the back and I felt the surge of the electricity as it danced up my leg. Saliva is a great conductor of electricity. It wasn’t enough to make me flop, but it tingled. It caused her to bite down harder, my leg was probably the only thing that kept her from biting off her tongue or slamming her jaws together hard enough to break out more teeth.

  I stopped the flow and looked at her. Slowly, I realized I recognized her. Horror crept over me. August Clachan was going to die.