James chose a Friday morning to do it. A morning he felt would be perfect. There were only three more weeks until school started and he wanted to get as many tongues as he could and devour them. The more he ate, the stronger he would become. It was like he was taking power from his victims and increasing his own. It made him feel he would become damn near invincible.
He waited for her in the woods. He heard her before he saw her, and his penis instantly became hard again, like with Lincoln, when he realised how close she was. She passed the spot he was hiding in, he leapt out and swung his bat; it cracked across the back of her head, and she went flying forward into the earth.
Lifting the bat again, he hit her once more, just in case. When he turned her over, her eyes were wide open, but she wasn’t breathing. He had killed her with two quick strikes of a bat, and it made him proud.
His energy levels rose, and he was admiring his work when something deep inside him made him feel hurried. He had to finish the task before someone came along. He worked quickly, keeping gloves on to hide his fingerprints from the police later on.
He removed her tongue, and then her head. He propped her against a tree and set her head in between her legs as though it belonged there. Pocketing the tongue, he packed up everything, making double sure not to leave anything behind for the police to trace back to him.
With that, he took off his bloody gloves, threw them in his bag, picked it up and headed off.
_____
Robyn
No! No! No!
She couldn’t believe he had struck again so quickly. She had tried to appear to the girl, wanted to make her see what was going to happen, but she wasn’t open to that sort of thing and therefore didn’t see Robyn, and didn’t see the baseball bat that was headed her way either.
Robyn sobbed as she watched him work; cutting off little Christina’s head, taking out her tongue first, and placing her head in her lap as though it belonged there. It didn’t belong there, and it broke Robyn’s heart that someone so young could be so cruelly taken advantage of by a spirit.
In her heart, she knew she would have to stop him no matter what happened, but it had taken all her power to appear to Diana, and it left her weakened. She needed someone who could see her more easily. She needed Sylvana.
It was then that Robyn came up with a better plan than trying to scare the family away. She decided it was time to take matters into her own hands.
She waited until Diana was asleep - the very night Christina was killed - and then she mustered all her strength and inhabited Diana’s body.
“Where are you going?” Robbie mumbled in his sleep.
“Go back to sleep,” Robyn said, surprising herself when Diana’s voice came out.
Robyn felt shaky as she forced Diana’s body to Robbie’s study. Scrimmaging hurriedly for pen and paper, Robyn wrote a letter to Sylvana.
Dear Sylvana,
Your sisters’ killer is at it again, but only you can stop her. Please come save us, and my son, only you can help. Please don’t let anyone else die.
Diana and Robyn
Robyn couldn’t think of another way to get Sylvana to return, other than using her memory of her sisters. She could only pray that it would work. She sealed the letter in an envelope and, after a search of Robbie’s drawers, found the lease agreement for the house that had Sylvana’s new home address on it. Her hand was shaky as she wrote the address. She was losing control of Diana’s body. She had to be quick.
She pushed herself and managed to get Diana’s body to take the letter outside and put it in the post box for the postman to collect. She barely managed to get Diana to the sofa before she had to relinquish control, letting Diana sleep on the couch for the night.
_____
Diana
She was so uncomfortable. She woke up and tried to stretch, but found she was inhibited from doing so by the arm of the sofa.
The sofa.
She sat up and realised she was really on the sofa, which explained why she was so stiff. She rubbed her neck, flexing it from side to side.
Robbie was on his way down, looking around for her when she stood up.
“Hey, babe, why’d you come to sleep down here?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she responded. “I don’t even remember coming down. The last thing I remember was going to bed with you last night.”
“Oh, you must be sleepwalking,” he teased, kissing her softly on her lips.
“Hmm, kiss me again,” she murmured, and he did.
He kissed her as though he was savouring the taste of her lips against his.
“Mommy,” Charlie called from upstairs.
Diana sighed against Robbie’s mouth before breaking the kiss. “Duty calls,” she said as she started for the stairs. She passed James on her way up and asked, “Not going to the park today?”
“No,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I’m kind of over it now.”
“Oh, okay. Well, if you want to, I’m taking Charlie to get some groceries later. You’re welcome to come with, and maybe we’ll stop for ice cream.”
“No, thanks,” he said, and again she worried about him.
She always worried about him. Just when he was starting to show signs that he was going out and doing things, he withdrew from the world again. She didn’t know what to do, but at this present time, she had to see what Charlie needed.
“Good morning, angel,” she said as she walked into her daughter’s room.
“Morning, mommy. Mommy, Robyn isn’t feeling well.”
Charlie sounded worried. Diana knelt next to her and said, “Oh dear, is there anything I can do?”
“No, ‘cause you can’t see her,” Charlie said. “Only special little girls can.”
A chill ran down her spine as Charlie said that, but Diana smiled. “Maybe Robyn just needs to rest. Why don’t you and I get dressed and go get groceries and ice cream while she has a nap?”
“Okay, mommy,” Charlie quipped before skipping to her closet.
After showering and dressing, Diana had breakfast on the table soon enough. She turned the television on to the news and sat down to eat her toast.
“And in other news, another grisly murder rocks the quiet neighbourhood of Lakesfield,” the newscaster was saying, drawing Diana’s attention. Everyone except Charlie turned to the television. “A decapitated eight-year-old girl was found in Lakesfield Park earlier today after being reported missing by her family yesterday. The police have no leads, but the community fears there is now a copycat killer mimicking the gruesome murders that occurred years ago. The modus operandi is exactly the same as Bart the Butcher, with the victims’ heads being removed and placed at their feet and their tongues missing.”
Robbie got up and turned the television off, biting his lip as he went to sit down once more.
“Is that what happened to Lincoln?” Clinton asked, his face white.
Diana said gently, “Yes, honey, that’s what happened.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Clinton asked. “I’m old enough to know.”
“Oh, honey, we just didn’t want you to remember him that way,” Diana replied honestly. “We wanted you to have fond memories of your friend.”
“Not that he was nice,” James said.
“James, don’t say that,” Robbie scolded him. “He was Clinton’s friend.”
James stood and picked up his now empty plate. “It’s not like Clinton is nice either.”
“James,” Diana warned.
“What? It’s true.” James frowned and looked at Clinton. “And if this new killer is only taking people who aren’t nice, then you could be next.”
“James, go to your room.” Robbie raised his voice slightly, irritated with his son.
“Gladly,” James said defiantly, before placing his plate back on the table and stomping upstairs.
“Clinton, he didn’t mean that,” Diana tried to comfort her eldest son. Eldest by a minute, she reminded herself, and it
was a shadow James constantly lived in. “He’s just feeling a bit left out.”
“That’s because he’s a freak,” Clinton said, standing up and storming to the back door.
“Clinton,” Diana called, but he didn’t come back. She looked at Robbie and shook her head. “They’re not even teenagers yet.”
Robbie started to clear the table. “Don’t remind me.”
_____
James
As soon as James had arrived home after killing Christina, he had prayed to the dark God that had given him the knowledge to execute the perfect murder. He didn’t know if it was a God; he just thought that was the aptest title for whatever was guiding him. He then consumed Christina’s tongue, taking his time and enjoying the salty chewiness mixed with the metallic taste of blood.
He spent the rest of the day doing rather dull and mundane tasks, but he felt better, he felt stronger.
The next day at breakfast he raptly watched the news as it described Christina’s murder and he was glad his family wasn’t paying attention to him because he was sure it was written all over his face that he was guilty.
He then got angry when his mother trod on eggshells around his brother, as though Lincoln had been some sort of saint. He hated that; he hated that someone died and they instantly became an angel, and he had let them know as much.
Now in his room, he clenched his fists and paced, wishing that his brother could be his next victim. That he could watch the life leaving his eyes. It would be like killing himself, except he would live afterwards. To him, it was a cool idea.
Soon.
Not Yet.
Patience.
His dark God was whispering to him again. He had to be satisfied with the fact that he needed to wait until the time was right for him to take his family’s lives. He wanted to kill them all.
Soon.
Not Yet.
Patience.
He was frustrated. He wanted it to be soon, but the dark God knew better. He would wait. He needed to find a way to distract himself in the meantime.
_____
Chapter Seven
Robyn
Robyn was aware of the itch that kept James awake at night. It was the same itch Bart had when he was alive, and it was an itch he had now as a spirit. He wanted to kill again, and soon, only this time Bart didn’t have to worry if he got caught. It would be James that suffered the consequences. Still, Robyn knew all this wouldn’t be possible if there wasn’t already darkness in James’ heart.
She hoped the letter reached Sylvana soon and that she would return to assist. At least she could appear to Sylvana, and perhaps Sylvana would see Bart and recognize him. Then they could put a stop to this.
The bloody baseball bat James had used was stashed carefully under his bed, and Robyn was horrified that Diana had no inkling of what her son was getting up to. It wasn’t that Robyn thought Diana was a bad mother; quite the opposite. She was such a good mother that her son was getting away with murder due to the simple fact that Diana respected his privacy.
James cleaned his own room and never gave his mother any reason to come in and shuffle things around. Clinton, on the other hand, was supervised continuously regarding cleaning his room.
It dawned on Robyn then. She needed to give Diana a reason to come into James’ room.
Once James was so exhausted that he could no longer stay awake, not even with Bart whispering in his ear, Robyn used what energy she had available to move things around and create a mess. Bart watched her with a small smile, clearly unaware of her game plan until it was too late and sufficient chaos surrounded James.
When it dawned on Bart what Robyn was trying to achieve, he got angry. She could tell by the red aura around him. He rushed her and put his arms around her neck. They wrestled like that for some time as she tried to get away from him, a stark reminder of how he killed her. He was sapping her vitality by being connected to her, and the scuffle released enough energy to wake Charlie. She was soon at the door watching them with fearful eyes.
She screamed, and Bart released Robyn, turning to rush at Charlie. Robyn couldn’t let that happen and pushed Charlie back with what little energy she had left. Bart narrowly missed her.
Charlie screamed again, and Robbie emerged from his bedroom, followed by Diana, while a sleepy James stirred in his bed.
_____
Diana
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” Diana asked as she quickly made her way to her daughter half sitting up on the floor.
“There was a bad man hurting Robyn,” Charlie cried, the tears rolling down her face. “They were in James’ room.”
Robbie stepped into James’ room and looked at his son. “You okay?”
“Yes, dad,” James said sleepily, glancing at Charlie and Diana. “What happened?”
“What did happen?” Robbie asked. “Look at your room, James. What did you do to it?”
Surprised by the mess, James shook his head. “I don’t know, dad; it wasn’t me.”
“Then who was it? Were you scaring your sister?”
“It was a bad man, daddy,” Charlie said again, now in Diana’s arms. “It was a bad man hurting Robyn.”
“Enough!” Robbie snapped. “There is no bad man, Charlie, there is no Robyn. James is just being mean.” James tried to protest, but Robbie glared at him, so he fell silent. “Now, James, clean your room and go back to bed. Charlie, you too, go back to bed.”
Diana frowned. “Robbie, you’re being a bit harsh.”
“Yeah, well, I’m exhausted from work, and everyone is just being ridiculous now. There are no bad people in this house. Now hop to it, James. I want your room back to the way it was and you back in bed in the next half an hour. Diana, take Charlie to bed.”
“Yes, sir,” Diana said sharply and turned away from him.
“Diana.”
“Yes, sir,” she said again, looking at him over her shoulder, and he appeared flustered, so she simply took Charlie to bed, tucking her in.
“Robyn is hurt,” Charlie whined.
“She’ll be fine. I’ll find her and make it better,” Diana said, stroking Charlie’s hair out of her face.
“Who was the bad man, mommy?” Charlie asked.
“Maybe he’s Robyn’s friend,” Diana said, “and they just had a fight.”
“Maybe, but he was really hurting her.”
“That’s not nice,” Diana explained, “and it’s not nice that James messed his room like that. Maybe that’s why they fought.”
“Robyn messed his room like that,” Charlie said. “It wasn’t James.”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll go help James tidy and see if I can find Robyn, but you, my little princess, need to go back to sleep.”
Diana leaned in and kissed her daughter’s cheek before standing up. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Good night, mommy” was the soft sleepy response she got.
_____
James
How could he be in trouble when he had been asleep? And, who had destroyed his room? It had to have been Charlie; she was the only one awake. How dare she come into his personal space and touch his things?
Now his father was watching him closely as he tidied up.
He felt exhausted because his thoughts had kept him up so late, and now this. He would be so tired tomorrow; how could he plan his next move?
Robbie eventually grew weary of watching and instructed him to finish up and go back to bed. Apparently, he had to be up early because their mother was taking them shopping.
“But I want to stay home,” James whined. Exhaustion was really getting to him.
“It’s for school stuff, so no.”
“But, dad,” he moaned.
“James! Enough! Geez, what has gotten into you? You’re never this much trouble,” Robbie said. “Daaadd,” Robbie whined out, mocking his son. “It’s time you grow up!” he added, grumpy and tired himself.
Robbie went back to his bedroom, leaving a wounded James behi
nd, cleaning his room.
“He’s just tired, sweetheart,” Diana said.
After witnessing what happened, she came into James’ room and started to help him pick up his stuff.
“It’s okay, mom,” James said. “I can do this.”
“I can help. I help your brother all the time,” she said with a small smile.
The truth was that James was worried she would find something she shouldn’t, like the baseball bat or the katana. She would want to know where he got that stuff from, and he didn’t have a good enough explanation and was too tired to come up with one.
“Mom, it’s fine,” he said, snatching some papers away from her. “I can do it, go back to bed.”
Diana looked hurt, and James could honestly not care less, but he had pretences to keep up, so the voices in his head told him.
“I’m sorry, mom,” he said. “I just want you to go back to bed.” He put a hand on her shoulder for effect, and she smiled at him.
“Only if you’re sure,” she said. “You have to get up early too.”
“I’m fine.” He picked up the papers again. “I’ll sort this out quickly.”
Diana kissed his head, and he forced himself to give her a smile before she left. He sighed and looked around at the chaos his little sister had created. She would pay for this. She had almost revealed everything. James would not have been able to continue if he had been caught. How would he explain all of this to his mother? She would never understand the itch he had.
_____
Up early he was the next morning and grumpy for it, he felt like his head was going to explode and it took his mother a few tries to get him up and going. It didn’t help that Clinton’s booming voice could be heard from the dining room as he laughed with their father, enjoying breakfast before Robbie went to work.
The Butcher Box Set Page 29
