“Who owns this house now May?” I ask purely to toy with her - I already know the answer to my question. “It’s part of a trust, the executors have been trying to sell it for years.” My smile is hard to hide. It never occurred to me to find out such things before. There are aspects of our lives we choose to ignore, to bury, to pass onto others. “Thank you May, this is the house, but I am afraid there will no sale in it for you. It’s already my house and you can tell whichever brother put you up to this I failed the test.” Her face drops with fear, she knows who we are and that I am not a man to be messed with, but she did this anyway. In her defence, I just got a million pound house for free and pissed my whole family off. I may keep her – for now.
Shannon looks confused as I drag her out of the building without looking any further than the hallway. “My Ma was a Spillane, so you can wipe that look off your face I handed the trust to lawyers years ago trying to ignore anything that would upset my father. Now we have a house, a beautiful forbidden ghost house.” She looks almost as happy as I feel about pissing my family off. May, however, seems defeated as she walks back to her silly little car.
The wind whips Shannon’s silky fiery red hair around her face as we walk slower now to my car. I hold her hand again she doesn’t react at all. She is small next to me, but that does nothing to stop feeling the danger that oozes from her. I should run away or kill this woman not move into a ghost house with a ghost. I am letting the madness win. Living in the ghost house is an awful idea. I will never keep my demons from coming out to play inside that house. But they have a new toy to play with. Just like the beautiful forbidden house she is mine.
I plan to be in Glasnevin for the next eighteen months so we might as well make the most of it. I will have to house renovated, restored and livable as soon as possible. They can have a month to get it ready.
Right now I need to pretend to be sad that my brother and nephew are dead and act like I fear for my own life. I may actually need to if I keep Shannon.
THERE ARE CERTAIN PLACES that are imprinted on your brain, the images will always remain even if you try to forget. As a little girl, the Spillane ghost house held my imagination every time I passed by. I wanted that house, in my little girl mind, it was my mansion, my castle it was beautiful and big and forbidden. It was also dark and eerie and filled with ghosts of mobsters past. I imagine being a princess looking out the upstairs window over my imaginary kingdom. As a young teenager, I saw myself there with a handsome man that loved me, love the illusion that I never found anywhere. Also, this place carried that name – Spillane the one that caused all of this so long ago. The name that gave birth to my urges and compulsions. The name my father just couldn’t ignore.
My friends and I tried to sneak into the house once. I remember the trouble we were all in, I had been grounded for a week and lectured on how I was never to go near that place. It only made the house appeal to me even more. Forbidden things always call to our most basic desires. Maybe that’s why I want Callum so badly, he is like the apple on the fucking tree tempting me to sin.
Now my ghost house is Callum’s house, the villain, who has turned my neat, orderly world upside-down in a matter of days, now owns the home I always dreamed of. Callum has made it quite clear that I will not be let out of his sight, even now he hovers close. He is laying his claim to me; a very dangerous thing to do.
I am not a crazed killer who will kill on a whim, I have a cycle just like a true sociopath, seeking out a man to date, luring him in, watching him, planning calculating. I have this grey haze that takes over my brain and only when he pushes the wrong buttons during sex does the mist go black and I need to kill him. Sometimes I keep them around for weeks or months others last only a few days. Then cool off and the grey is gone, but it always returns and I start to cycle again. When I cycle, I cannot think straight, function correctly past my goal. The rest of the time I blend in, the beautiful doctor with shady connections and no real life beyond her job. The doctor who is owned by the mob, imprisoned by her secrets and too pretty to be single. A serial killers cycle is out of their control, it comes over us and we can’t stop it once it starts, it has a beginning, middle and an end. It only ends when someone dies.
Just after Cassie died, I started to date Neil’s friend he was a man, not a boy and too old for me. I suffocated him in his sleep with my pillow. Neil saw me, he was there, he watched from a dark corner. After I was done he, cleaned up the mess I had made and kept my secret. He owned me from then on. We were already connected in the depravity of that night four years before and now I killed his friend. The night when he held me down and his Pop and five others raped me in front of my laughing father. The men had mocked Neil when he wouldn’t take his turn with me. He knows that night was the trigger of this unstoppable urge, the compulsion to kill. He held me down and looked into my eyes as my soul turned from bright and young to grey and used. Then he waited until I was just a little bit better and raped me, he had to have his turn. That rape shattered me and started what became my kill cycle.
As I sit on the bench in the quiet of the cemetery, I can breathe a little. I feel just okay here. I am not hiding from my father of remembering what happened. My body is slowly healing and it doesn’t hurt to pee today. I fidget with the hem of my school skirt and stare at the antiquated headstones in front of me. The one with a statue of a weeping angel fascinates me. I let a stray tear escape, residual sadness of what I lost is pulled out by the mourning angel. Neil sits down on the bench next to me and I recoil in fear, he is the monster that pinned me to the floor as my innocence was brutally torn from me. He stared into my eyes as it happened over and over again. The bellowing laughter of my father and the others is crushing my dignity and with it my heart. Neil is a monster just like them.
His disgusting hand slides up my leg and under my skirt, I freeze in fear instead of fighting I go limp and just freeze. His hands fondle at my still sore crotch and the roughness of them stings. I whimper at the fresh pain and tears begin to roll freely down my cheeks. He whispers vile words into my ear about his missed turn before he rapes me. This rape is worse. Neil’s revolting words strip my soul while his intrusion into my body causes me to vomit. I lie there is my own tears and vomit as he zips up his pants and kicks me for good measure before he leaves. I just want to kill him, I need to find the strength in me to murder him. It doesn’t take long for the monochrome haze of a killer to seep into me. Just a little too long to kill him right there. Never again! Not one more man will hurt me like this and live.
My silly little girl brain told me I would be his girl now, he would love me and look after me, he came to find me after all. He got what he needed from me so maybe he would need me. No one ever wanted me, least of all Neil. I tried for a long time to make Neil fall in love with me, but he was promised to another. She would give him sons, I would give him nothing but a place to come when she didn’t satisfy his needs.
He has been the one to clean up after every one of the eighteen bodies I have left in the wake of my homicidal pursuit of love. I call and he comes to make them disappear.
We still loathe each other under the silent agreement. We will never be more than mutually beneficial enemies. I still want to kill him, but my desire for self preservation is bigger than that.
Poison came much later, in med school where I could get it and experiment with it. I killed before that but with much less finesse. Before the poison, I chose suffocation just as beautiful but not as natural.
I evolved as a killer, as a person and as a doctor I developed into the Poisonous Princess the name that Neil gave me after he came to clean up after I left a rather spectacular mess.
I sold my soul to Neil so I don’t have one and Callum has claimed ownership of my dirty rotten evil heart. I might just live to see another day, after all. If I can make him care for me, I might live a little longer than tomorrow.
Now I am going to have to evolve again. I think I already have. My need, to kill Callum, has dulled t
o whisper, but my need for Callum is growing into something a little more dangerous.
We leave the ghost house to go play the dutiful, caring family member to sister in law, the grieving widow. Only I know Callum’s secret. He ordered the death his brother was served, he had a list and he was ticking them off. He had helpers that were not family. The man on the phone had been angry at him because I killed the boy. There is a plan afoot and I have become a part of it and there is no way out now. I have to trust the villain and that scares the shit out of me. I have feelings and they scare me. I don’t even know what they are. I have been void of emotion for so long I cannot even identify them.
More scary is the contradiction that is Callum, he was hard as nails last night. He loved the torture of my kill and he is cold inside. Then he switches on the charm and the tenderness I cannot reconcile the two. He is either one or the other, surely he cannot be both. The monster I can live with, him I can kill. The soft and gentle makes me nervous and edgy.
He still holds my hand even now in the car, my skin feels strange against his, foreign almost like it’s not my own hand. He is relaxed and calm and completely in disguise. My nerves are teetering on a knife’s edge; we will see his family now. Neil will know I have made my move on Callum and he will be waiting for me to kill him, he will be waiting for my cycle to be complete. I was so focused on what he wanted from Callum I missed what he ultimately wanted from me. By my history, Callum should be dead already, or at least close. I cannot kill Callum, I want to kill him, but I cannot kill him if I am going to stay alive. I know full well that Neil would have me buried the second it was done so I have chosen sides. I am on Callum’s side even if it does kill me.
I can still feel the grey blur when he gets too close to me, but I feel other things with it. Still want to kill him just not yet.
This is going to be a fucking long ass day.
Callum is holding my hand. A cold, calculating, dangerous villain is holding my hand. He has my whole life in that hand.
I’m so fucked. Proper fucked.
WE DRIVE INTO THE STREET where Warrick resides, I mean resided. It is lined with cars, almost all of the important members of the family are here already. This is going to be very awkward on so very many levels. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to hide my fear. Warrick was a moron, he had no clue in life and I guess with his laundry list of unhealthy addictions he was rather easy to kill. He wasn’t a threat I don’t think- more of an annoyance. I wonder how many of them are on Callum’s list. There are a lot of O’Reilly’s.
I don’t think the family even suspects his son is dead too. They will be wondering why his ass isn’t home, or they think he is still laid up in bed at my surgery. They are in for the world of heart break, and Callum is enjoying every minute of the devastation he is causing.
Callum tenses ever so slightly as we approach the house pulling the car to stop at the end of the row. He turns to me, the evil Callum is back in those eyes. “You know nothing about anything, I am afraid for my life just like the rest of them. We are dating and met after the funeral. Do not fuck up Shannon or I will have you killed. If you want to live, you play this part because your life does depend on it.” His voice leaves no doubt in my mind that he would have me killed if I even give off the wrong vibes. I swallow the giant lump of death in my throat so I can answer him. He is waiting for a response, his eyes bore into mine. “We are dating, I like you, I know nothing we are all worried that people are trying to kill you and send a message to the family. I won’t fuck up Callum I have been pretending to fit in for years.” I mutter a reply at him. I am not a child. I try to keep my apprehension hidden I hate so many of the people inside that house I may enjoy watching him kill them all as much as he enjoyed watching me.
He lets go of my hand and climbs out the car, gentleman Callum is gone so I am left to let myself out again. I scramble to meet his strides as he moved towards the house. Once I do catch up, he grabs my hand and kisses my temple. What the fuck, this is the most confusing man on earth? It must be for show, for them, in case they are watching us.
As we walk up the path to the front door, there is a man the size of a freight truck on the steps - the watchdog I presume. I have seen him before, I have seen most of them before as a doctor. Never socially, this feels awkward already and I see his fat hulk eyes on me as Callum grips my hand tighter and drags me a little toward the door. The man ignores us as we pass him and Callum pushes the door open. I am met with the noise first, too many voices all at once talking over each other. Then the smell, stale smoke and booze and men. The ladies have been banished to the kitchen and the living room is all business. Twenty or more sets of eyes look up to meet us as we enter the room. Neil’s eyes catch mine and he nods a small nod just for me before he greets his brother and I am shoved off to be with the women. He thinks I will kill his brother for him, he thinks I owe him. I don’t.
Women, not my strong suit either, they are all huddled in the kitchen making themselves seem busy. These ladies are domestic goddess’ they cook and clean and care. I don’t do any of the above. They all look up at me and I can see their confusion and scepticism. I smile a fake smile but a smile. They seem to soften a little and the grieving widow waves a small hand at me to sit in the open chair next to her. These women were all married at eighteen shat out children by twenty-two and have no lives beyond their kids and these criminal men. I am not one of them. I never will be.
Only thing is now I have to be. My mind wonders what will happen to all of them, does he plan to kill them all too? I am used to being fake; being anything but myself so this should be easy right. A young wife, a new generation I am sure married to one of the cousins, speaks to me first. She is pretty, but her clothes say common. Connor must be turning in his fresh grave.
“Did ye come here wit’ Callum?” Her accent is very thick; she is not of the same class as the other ladies which is why she had the balls to ask. Gypsy, with that accent she is a gypsy. That must have rolled over well with the family.
I nod at the pretty girl I have seen her out with Megan before a few times she seems harmless, but the glares she gets tell me she is not in the group. I turn to Orla, Warrick's widow so I can say sorry. Fake condolences from fake me. I killed her son only hours ago, and I enjoyed it.
“I’m so sorry Orla, this is all so terrible. I am sure you must be devastated.” She takes my hand before she answers me. A biting look of disapproval in her eyes. “Thank you, Doc, we are all just very scared right now. It's not the time to be joining this family.” A word of caution, I get it. I know I won’t be accepted as a wife or girlfriend, Callum is the black sheep they choose to ignore. Only I can’t ignore him. I just nod and smile. Message received. Callum is off limits even among the woman folk, he is not loved.
The idle chatter resumes along with the cooking and drinks pouring, and man serving. I am like a fish out of water here. Hurry the fuck up Callum. The voices from the living room are getting louder, more heated and the air is thick with tension when I walk in to deliver a whiskey to what is now considered “my man”. The men eye me with suspicion and Neil’s eyes fall on Callum’s glass. Idiot I would not poison him here. I see Callum do the same and set the drink down. Waste of time but it made the ladies shut up about how to be a good wife.
He won’t eat or drink anything I touch, ever. He knows who I am. I am beginning to think he knows me better than I know myself. I do know he will never trust me, I don’t even trust me. I didn’t poison his drink – this time.
I retreat back to the relative safety of the kitchen and pretend to listen to the women bitching about everything to avoid the subject of the dead brother. They bore me. I am deep in my own thoughts when one of them asks me outright. “So are you sleepin' wit him?” Blunt. I look the woman in the eye, they want to make me uncomfortable and they want me to squirm away from them. I will not.
“Not yet, no.” I don’t need them to know what my body looks like under these clothes. I don’t want an
extra target on my back, these women are vicious. “He went to dinner with me that’s all. I haven’t known the man long enough to be going anywhere near his bed. I have some morals ladies.” Orla looks at me like she has a secret bursting to get out about him. She stays silent.
I try to satisfy their inquisition. “May said you went with him to look at houses. That sounds serious. He’s stayin then?” Another one pipes in her two pennies worth. Fucking May. “We were already together he came to check on Joel at the surgery and asked if I wouldn’t mind going with to give him advice.” They are not going to lay off I know it. They are like a pack of fucking wolves. No one asks after Joel, thank God.
“May said he bought the Spillane house, he has a fucking death wish.” One of them snickers from a corner. That he does, but I can’t say that, I just nod and try stay calm a little longer.
“He didn’t need to buy it, he owns it already and you might want to take May a little less seriously. He was left the house when his uncle, who was a Spillane died.” My revelation has them distracted with ghost stories and rumours about the house thank fuck. They snicker and chatter and hiss with cruel giggles. I zone out, I hate this shit.
Megan arrives a short while later, her eyes catch mine with questions and a smile, she greets the women in the room her aunts’ cousins and relatives. Then she sits next to me. I am relieved because she is as close to a friendly face as I am going to get in here.
I need to breathe, this is a suffocating situation and I want out even if it’s for a minute. “Where is the ladies room?” I ask Orla.
“I will show you.” Megan pipes up. As she drags me from the room by the arm her grip, is painful on my already bruised flesh.
She locks herself in the bathroom with me, not what I had in mind as an escape. “Do you have fucking death wish? Callum O’Reilly! Are you shitting me Shan?” She genuinely actually cares for me - I think. I lift my skirt and lower my knickers to pee, she luckily doesn’t look so she cannot see the bruises and lash marks on my skin. “I didn’t get a choice in the matter Megan. He loved my sister, the sister that I look exactly like.” I sigh, saying it sounds stupid, but I know it’s the truth. “He isn’t a man you say no to Megan and he isn’t going to leave me alone even if I try to avoid him.”
Monochrome My Madness Page 10
