Oakwood Island

by Cormier, Angella; Arseneault, Pierre C;

  “You know damn well where I’m going, you piece of shit!” Her tone caught Richard by surprise. She had rarely talked back to him and when she had done so on a few previous occasions, it had been in the heat of an argument. Not a sudden outburst such as this.

  “I know you think I can’t live without you, but you know what, I can! I know you’re not stupid, and you know what was going on between me and Ted. That’s why you have been so happy lately. You heard about him running off to Vegas. The whole island is talking about it and so I just know those nurses must have just loved telling you all about how Ted the gambler ran off to Vegas without me.”

  Her tight pink dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and seeing her this angry aroused him, and this was a distraction. He loved how her sudden and swift movements to grab her bags made her legs and arms flex her well-toned muscles. He smiled deeply as she turned to face him, and her face became engulfed with rage. She swung the duffel bag as hard as she could in the backseat of the Lincoln, making it shake the rear passenger window as it hit it, then clunked in the backseat.

  “YOU are no man, Richard Edwards. YOU are a sick, twisted, demented little man with nothing but your money and your job. Nobody cares for YOU.”

  Richard snapped out of his perverse reverie as his wife slammed the back door of the Lincoln shut. Her shouting was very loud now. He wondered if her voice would carry far outside. The neighbours lived a good distance away, so he was fairly certain nobody would hear her shrilling echoes of discontent. She threw the small purse in the car through the open window of the driver’s door.

  Richard had been standing near the stairs going up the landing to the inside of the house the entire time. Now that she was done with the bags, he began stepping in closer. His hands moved from his hips over to his back. He walked with slow, calculated steps, making sure to let her anger build, the more she screamed at him, the slower he walked. The louder her attempts of stinging him with her heartless words, the wider his smile grew. He was no longer feeling aroused by her. He felt excited, charged, awakened. His entire body wanted to react as a sudden wave of powerful energy took over. He knew he couldn’t let her leave him. The choice he was left with was an obvious one. Stepping in close to her, his left leg edging the cool metal of the Lincoln, she stood but a foot away from him now, her voice ringing in his ears.

  “I’m leaving you Richard! I don’t care anymore! I’m going to find Ted in Vegas and I’m never coming back to you!” Tears streamed down her face as she turned her back to him. He stared at her red hair, such softness those delicate tresses held. The redness of her curls made him see red. Made him step over and peer down at her, sitting in the driver’s seat now. She looked up at him and without blinking once said the words that sealed her fate that night.

  “I hate you Richard, I have always hated you!”

  Richard watched, his rage growing at a rapid rate. As her hand reached down to the ignition, there was a moment of confusion that spread across Peggy Sue’s face. She arched her neck sideways, her eyes searching first at the ignition, then around the centre console of the car. She desperately searched for the keys to make her escape. There were no keys to be found. As soon as she pieced together what must have happened to her keys, the left side of her skull cracked with the sudden impact of the lead mallet that the doctor held with a firm grip in his small but steady hands. The mallet she never noticed him pick up from the tool shelf near the door to the house.

  Her red curls fell down her neck and cleavage, mingling with the liquid crimson that poured ever so thickly from her mouth, nose and left ear. The doctor took a step back, reached for the switch plate on the wall and pushed the garage door button. The door began its mechanical whining as it closed ever so slowly, hiding away the doctor and his trophy wife behind the white facade of their garage doors.

  * * *

  The cabin was surrounded by large oak trees that the couple had refused to cut down when they purchased the land. The privacy and waterfront of this property made the seclusion all the better, which was what the doctor and Peggy Sue had been searching for when they decided to buy a cabin. Here, they were surrounded by acres of wood and faced the open and vast ocean on the other side.

  The doctor was walking down the beaten path that led from the front door of the cabin down to the cliff’s edge several yards away. In one hand he carried a large suitcase and over his right shoulder a large duffel bag. The same ones that Peggy Sue had hurriedly shoved her summer dresses and shorts, underwear and pumps, cramming as much as she could into the few bags quickly to make her escape.

  Now, her husband carried her bags, heading where she never imagined they, nor she, would be heading tonight. Richard reached the side of the cliff and set the bags next to another suitcase and a small yellow and pink purse. All the bags were standing lopsided and heavy in the tall grass. The grass went up past his ankles here and was still wet from a rain shower only an hour prior.

  Although the sun was about to start rising, the skies overhead were smothered with large, massive and black clouds, hanging onto each other, waiting for just one to let go before they all released their millions of tiny droplets, sending them splattering into the deep and dark ocean below.

  The clouds travelled fast, heading west, their dark cover almost ashamed of being part of this vile and wretched scene below them. One by one, Richard sent the bags over the edge of the cliff, flying down in uneven patterns. The bulging contents made the bags twist and careen in their free-fall. There was but one bag left at his feet. The doctor bent at the knees, squatting down in front of the duffel bag. He raised his eyes to the horizon, took a deep breath and let it whoosh out fast.

  He knew what he’d done might seem wrong to some people. He could very well be arrested for what he’d done, twice now. In his mind however, he reasoned that he needed to do it. His abilities were given to him for a reason. His ability to give life, to deliver life, to save lives, also meant he had the ability and responsibility to take life, to retract life, to end lives. His cold and pale thin fingers unzipped the duffel bag in one long swift motion. He spread open the sides of the bag, exposing the contents within. His eyes never flinched.

  From the confines of the dark bag, Peggy Sue’s eyes were staring back at him without the shimmer of light they once held. Her mouth, partly opened, no longer held the lies she had lashed out at him for the past several weeks. He reached in and grabbed the head with his bare hands, his fingers wrapping themselves in her lush red curls, one last time.

  He looked into her eyes and as though all the slitting and slicing had not been enough, he said, “You finally get to be with Ted again, you bitch....aren’t you happy now?”

  Peggy Sue’s head tumbled down fast, a bright red ball of hair mixed in with remnants of flesh as it stumbled down the edge of the rocky cliff and crashed into the heavy waves of the ocean below. The last of the bags now fell into the ocean also, and sunk deep as the heavy rocks carried their burden to the ocean floor. Standing at the cliff’s edge, staring out at the heavy rolling of the waves, the doctor put his hands in his coat pockets and pulled out two rings. The first, a man’s high school graduation ring with the inscription of “Ted B.” inside. The other, his wife’s wedding band. He wrapped his right hand tightly around the two rings, pressing them deep into his palm. He turned and let his tired and aching feet lead him up to the cabin again.

  * * *

  From the tree top, the crow’s beady eyes peered at the lone dark figure of a man walking up the narrow path towards the cabin. Behind him the sea roared, as angry as the skies and the clouds for polluting it with the blackness of his soul. The waves rippled deeply and cast reflections of the emotion that the man held within, his hunger for taking lives growing steadily now. The man walked on as the crow watched both sea and man, both gaining strength in waves of darkness.

  Chapter 8

  The God Complex

  M
ay 1981

  The hospital parking lot was nearly full when the Cadillac rolled into view. The car rolled slowly down the willow-edged lot and came to a stop in front of the small white sign that read “Reserved: Dr. Edwards”. The doctor gathered his briefcase and jacket and started to head toward the hospital, ready to start his evening shift. Just as he closed the driver side door, a small car pulled up behind him and he heard a woman’s voice calling out.

  “Doctor Edwards! Excuse me, Doctor Edwards!” The lady in the car was Sarah, one of Peggy Sue’s tennis partners.

  He felt his blood pressure rising, but kept a calm and cool demeanour as he replied: “Oh hello, Sarah!”

  She waved him over and the doctor immediately walked over to the passenger side, peering into the car. “Yes, Sarah?” he asked.

  Her face became serious and almost apologetic when she asked him “Have you heard from Peggy Sue at all yet?”

  The doctor had been waiting to play out the next part his plan of Peggy Sue’s disappearance for the past five days now. He figured it was time to set it in motion.

  “Why actually, yes, I have heard from her.” He lowered his eyes and looked at his feet, faking a look of sadness and hurt feelings. “She called me from Vegas just last night. She said both her and Ted are happy together and they are never coming back to Oakwood.”

  Sarah’s face showed a truly concerned look and she extended a hand towards the Doctor. He put his hand in hers and she grasped it with both her own, small and soft hands.

  “I am so sorry Richard. I’m sure it can’t be easy. I know you probably saw it coming...the way she’d been acting lately and all. But still, can’t be easy.”

  The doctor squeezed her hand lightly and thanked her for her kind thoughts and concern. He told her he wasn’t able to talk about it just yet, as it was still too fresh. He needed time to accept what had happened and to let go of his wife. Working helped keep his mind off everything, he told her with a straight face.

  As she finally drove away, he extended a hand and waved her off. He felt aroused by his ability to pull off these two murders without a hitch. It made him feel the ultimate power and control. He stood there for a few moments, his eyes watching Sarah’s car driving away. He watched until it turned onto Water Street and was no longer visible. Richard Edwards returned to his intended path towards the hospital.

  As he stepped onto the walkway near the willow trees, he noticed Harriett sitting alone on the bench near the employee entrance. She was wearing her uniform, no doubt on the first break of her shift. He took a few quick steps to the right and stood in the shadows once more. He watched as she stretched her legs outward, her white uniform showing the contour of her curves. The same curves which he spent countless nights caressing.

  He’d taken her many times in recent weeks, always at the hospital, where they were often the only staff left during the late night shifts they both worked. He watched her closely, remembering how her hair smelled when he’d pull her close to him, how she tasted when he kissed her. The flashbacks of their lovemaking gave him a much needed respite of the murders he’d committed. Though in his mind, all was as normal as it should be. He saw no wrong doing on his behalf, even after carving up both Peggy Sue and her lover and having thrown both their remains in the ocean. It was a subconscious emotion, one that his living self would not recognize as being his own.

  When he was with Harriett, he allowed himself to forget. He got lost in their moments of passion and fiery lovemaking, which was a release for all the pent up emotions he had been carrying around for so long. Especially the ones he’d recently developed, since his wife had started her own affair. Harriett had made a habit of asking him to come spend the night over at her house, but Richard felt he was above her, and allowing himself to spend the night in her small and dingy house meant he’d have to bring himself down to her level, something he was both unable and unwilling to do.

  It was the power he held over her, the fact that he was the one pulling all the strings, which was an aphrodisiac to him. He often delivered an uncaring, aloof manner when she so blatantly made a pass at him, struggling to deliberately hold himself back, until he felt certain he saw her demeanour morphing right in front of his eyes. He held a fascination with how his own ability to have this sort of power over Harriett caused her emotional anguish, inner turmoil and frustration.

  His sexual ego fed off of her contorted emotions. His desire grew stronger each time he turned down her advances, his need would then turn into want and want would turn into action, as he would grab her by the arm and lead her to into an empty hospital room and take her, almost forcefully.

  She would always comply with his demanding ways, more and more willingly each and every time. Perhaps his age played a part in her wanting him so much. He was almost fifteen years older than she was. He concluded that her abusive father had planted a seed for her future need for such an unhealthy sexual relation. What he didn’t take into account however, was that Harriett felt her own power growing from within. She gained strength and confidence every time he did come to her, her own sexual arousal mounting to higher levels every time. She felt that somewhere, somehow, inside this hurtful man there was some sort of need for her touch, and this was why she played his game so willingly.

  Now as Harriett gathered her lunch bag and got up from the bench, she noticed the doctor watching her from behind the willow trees. She pretended to pay no attention to his blatant stare. She felt herself gaining pleasure from his watchful eyes, even slightly aroused knowing that she held an advantage to him. He thought he was unnoticed, that his secret was still his to keep. She knew he was watching her and so she made sure to let his eyes take in as much pleasurable sights as she could.

  She walked her curvy legs back inside the hospital, dropping her napkin; she bent slowly down and took her time claiming it again. She knew where his eyes focused, and so she walked with an extra beat in her step, one that made her hips sway back and forth, and her curves carrying his stare straight into the hospital with her.

  He stood and watched Harriett from under the willow trees, his arousal bringing forth a plethora of unconscious dialogue between the man and the powerful being that now comprised Dr. Richard P. Edwards. He felt completely in control of Harriett, and he would take her tonight once more, but not before he downplayed his desire once again.

  * * *

  Weeks passed by, the time within them intent on building up the yearning of feeling the powerful grip that the doctor had held over his victims, both in life and death. He struggled to understand the feeling. He poured himself into his work to keep the urge of killing at bay for as long as possible. He held no answers when the questions came to him on a few occasions. By the end of the second week, he no longer had the ability to control his thought patterns and obsessive thinking about how he had to gain that power again and act upon the responsibility that had been given to him by some unseen and unknown force.

  As the doctor sat in his large office chair, the bony pale fingers of his right hand curling the edge of leather padded armrest, his eyes darted around the room, glancing towards the partially open door every few minutes. Sitting upright in his chair, rigid and balanced, he was becoming increasingly anxious with each passing moment. His mind replayed slicing through Ted’s thick muscle tissue and recalled the heavy cracking sounds of bone when he’d separated Peggy Sue’s joints. His face was now fully engrossed in a smile, and a few moments later, he let out a stifling laugh as he rose from his leather chair, quickly stepped over to his cabinet and put on a pair of latex gloves.

  He rushed out of his office and into the empty hallway of the hospital. The quietness peered invisibly at him, cursing the footsteps that resounded, killing any hope of survival for tonight’s victims. The doctor walked on down the hallway until he reached George Hatchet’s room. The terminally ill cancer patient had been lying in this hospital bed now for several months. He ope
ned his eyes slowly when the doctor stepped into the room.

  Richard came close to George and with the sincerest and most caring voice he could muster up he spoke to his patient, “This is going to give you a bit of a break for the rest of the night, my friend. It’s going to make you woozy for a few minutes, so just lay back and relax. Let the medicine do its job.”

  His patient was not aware of it, but he was serving as the doctor’s personal fix. He was the doctor’s drug of choice this evening. The little bit of life that remained inside of George would soon be extinguished in order to provide a needy doctor with the fix he had been waiting for since killing his wife and throwing her body parts into the pounding waves of the sea. George closed his eyes just as the doctor began humming a familiar tune.

  George fell into a deep slumber, so deep in fact that he would never wake again. His car, which had remained in the hospital’s parking lot since his last admittance was found a few weeks later, abandoned at Ted’s garage, but George was nowhere to be found. He’d vanished from his hospital room, without so much as a trace of where he could have gone. His family knew that he’d been taking the news of his terminal cancer badly, but they couldn’t believe he would do anything crazy.

  During the days that followed, Richard reminded himself that what he had done was a merciful act of compassion for another human being. He had read about mercy killings during his studies at medical school, and this was, in his mind, what he had done to George. The thoughts of the body parts floating away in the ocean were still fresh in his mind though, and this was why he had to continually repeat to himself that it had been an act of compassion because otherwise he would have to accept that he was giving in to the pleasure he got from killing. There had been nothing compassionate about leaving a man to wither away in a hospital bed for weeks, when the inevitable was fast approaching. The doctor felt it was his responsibility to use his power wisely, to take life away when he saw fit. That power he held rushed through his senses every day now as he remembered the killing and the disposal of the many parts that had been George.