GABRIEL (Killer Book 2) (8 page)

"Every man to his own tastes. Mine is for corpses."

-Henri Blot

I cannot stop the shaking, it feels like it’s coming from deep inside. I open the medicine cabinet and retrieve the pills that Dr. Gnosh prescribed for the anxiety. I have never taken a pill, not once, because I want to try to fix myself. The pain. The goodnights… they heal. Pills do not. Pills numb. Pills make you dependent.

Dani came into my life and flipped my world upside-down. She’s twisted my mind. She destroyed my things, my room. She’s destroying me.

I look up at my reflection, staring into my own bloodshot eyes as my insanity bubbles away. I made love to her. I felt her stretch around me as I clung to her like my life depended on it. It felt like I was high off of her. Her mouth, her scent, her hands, her body… all of her.

I run my hand through my hair as I look down at the pill bottle. My excessive shaking is causing the pills to rattle about while I contemplate if I should swallow all of the goddamn things and shut my mind down once and for all. There are no women in the dungeon, and I’m trying to comprehend why I can’t bring myself to take Dani down there. What in the fuck am I doing? Why am I shattering my world for a woman that I barely even know?

I knew that she had to be broken like the others. I thought that I would treat her the same as the other sad souls who’ve said goodnight. But now, she’s in my bed.

My gaze snaps back to the mirror and I see her. Those blue eyes tell me everything, yet hide so much at the same time.

“Gabriel?” She whispers, looking toward the pills.

I grit my teeth. She shouldn’t be here.

Yes she should.

“Go to bed.” I growl.

She looks over her shoulder and then back to me, “What are you doing?”

I glare at her as I throw the bottle across the bathroom, “Go to bed now!” I holler.

She jumps, turning quickly, she goes back to the bed.

I walk towards the bedroom door without looking at her. Once I escape, I stop outside of the room with my fists balled at my side. I scream as I throw a fist into the wall, feeling ease as the pain travels from my knuckles, to my hand and then up my arm.

I look down at my bloodied fist, feeling gratitude for the solace that pain offers. The anxiety slowly dissipates, but my need for more pain doesn’t.

Once I enter the dungeon, I go straight for the whip. The one that I had specifically made for my personal use. The handle is leather, and the tiny hooks will quiet my mind as they tear into my skin.

I fall onto my knees in the middle of the drafty space, and cry out as I alternate from one shoulder to the other. The hooks bite into my shoulder blades as the warm blood trickles from the self-inflicted wounds. Visions of the women flash through my mind. They all say goodnight with a smile. They all want an out, and I provide that. In turn, their souls stay in my home, in my dreams, and in my mind.

My father basked in his insanity. He loved his craziness. He loved what his murderous hands were capable of.

I hate myself. I hate myself with every fiber of my being.

The amber liquid burns as it slides down my raw throat. I lean back as the whisky warms the blood in my veins.

My office is roomy and modern. The walls are all white, muting out the craziness of the world and what carries on below. Sometimes I’ll watch as people walk down the streets, leading their normal lives. I like to believe that there are others like myself. I’m sure there are. This world is much too big for that to not be true. There is a tortured soul out there like myself, pleading for time to reverse and for them to not have ever been born.

I hear a knock on the door and look up to see my dad.

“I’m heading out. I’m taking your mom on a mini vacation on the river, so I’ll be out tomorrow and Friday.”

I nod as my eyes find the window.

“Son, everything okay?”

I smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy.”

“Alright,” He says, tucking his hands into his pockets, “You know if you need me, I’m only a call away.”
Sighing, I look towards him, “I know. Thanks, dad.”

When he leaves, I sit up and look over my screen. Once I finish checking my emails, I hover over the internet search with the cursor.

Squeezing my eyes shut, my mind wanders back to Dani. She’s likely curled up beneath the blanket sleeping. Perhaps she’s reading, maybe even plotting her escape.

I exhale as I think of the way that her hair fell around her head like a halo, and how her nails dug into me when I took her…

I haven’t slept with her in days. I can’t bring myself to. I wait until I know that she is sleeping, and I’ll quietly open the door, letting Bailey inside and placing his food and water on the floor beside the bed. She lies sleeping like an angel trapped in a chaotic bubble. I leave before the urge to go to her becomes unbearable. Then I shower and grab a hold of my cock, stroking up and down as I recall how she felt.

I have to have my release somehow – and sex isn’t the only release that I need. I need a sad beauty, and since Dani is not fulfilling that for the time being, I need to find one. That is the only way that I can keep the shadow man from appearing.

Age Twenty

“I won’t stop until you accept who you are.” The shadow man said as I stared blankly at the dead woman who was slumped over the couch in my living room.

I glared at him, “Why are you doing this to me?”

He laughed as he looked towards the window into the night, “I told you that I would always be here to clean up your messes. I wasn’t lying when I said that.”
I shook my head slowly as the tears ran down my cheeks. “This isn’t me doing these things. It’s you.”

“No!” He barked, “This is all you, Gabriel! Quit denying what you are! You are a killer. The blood is on your hands, not mine. I’m not real. I am but a figment of your imagination, the darkness to your soul.”

I slumped down onto the couch beside the deceased woman. I buried my face in my hands as I exhaled. “What do you want me to do?”

I shivered when he rested his hand on my shoulder and leaned down, whispering into my ear, “Kill. Feed your demons what they crave.”

I open my eyes and click on the internet search. I type in the web address that I’ve memorized. It’s where I find them, the lovely ones that wish for death. They talk about how they will end themselves. They talk about how cruel life can be. I can’t say that I blame them. That’s why I help them, because, I know that desperate feeling all too well.

The chat room shines in my face as I watch them discuss techniques and thoughts.

Melissa543: I feel so alone. It’s like nobody understands. I can’t blame them though. They don’t know how I feel. I can’t tell them. I feel like it would just be a burden.

I click on her picture, causing a separate chat box to pop up.

Greeneyes876: I know how you feel.

Melissa543: You do?

Greeneyes876: Yeah. It’s hard when nobody can see your pain. When you constantly hide feelings that run so deep.

Melissa543: Exactly. It can be too much.

Melissa543: Look, I’ve got to go. Maybe I can catch you next time.

Greeneyes876: See you.

I open up the database and enter in the web address for her page. Immediately, different ages and names scroll down the screen. I find the one that matches her. I have her address, criminal record along with other information in seconds. She was in a local chat room, and I’m pleased that she lives not too far from my office. I sweep my web history before grabbing my keys and heading out.

The streetlights illuminate the interior of my black Maserati.

The bustling city dies out as I find myself in the lower end part of town. Luckily, the homeless are the only ones out at this hour as they huddle around their trashcan fires.

I pull into one of the alleyways between the lines of homes and stop when I see her tiny, blue house. Some of the windows are broken and the flowerbeds are full of weeds.

I see her. She’s skin and bones as she sucks the smoke from her cigarette, inhaling deeply before blowing the cloud in front of her face. I know that she’s nineteen. She seems to be alone, not one car is in the driveway.

She begins walking through the yard and down the alleyway. I’m quite a ways away, so she doesn’t see me as I begin trailing her.

She walks between the rundown buildings, and I give the space a once over to make sure that nobody is watching before I approach her.

I roll down my window and she startles when she sees me.

A nervous smile spreads across her face as she slowly approaches my car, “I think you’re in the wrong part of town.”

“Am I?”

She looks around before her nearly black eyes fall back on mine, “Yeah, you don’t see cars like this around here.”
“You want to go for a ride?” I ask.

She tilts her head to the side, “Go for a ride? Why?”

I nod my head towards the passenger side as I flash a charming smile, “Get in.”
Her shoulders slump as she crosses her arms loosely over her chest. “I don’t know.” She murmurs, her eyes travelling up and down the alley before landing back on mine.

“Come on,” I taunt, “It’s just a ride. What are you afraid of?”

She bites her lip and surveys me momentarily before quickly rounding the car and getting in.

Flipping on my music app, I hand her my phone. “Your pick.”

The music begins streaming through the speakers as I begin making my way to the house, feeling her eyes on me.

“Who are you?”

I smile at her, “Gabriel. I help people. Like you.”

“Like me?”

“People that want to die.”

She frowns, “How did you-”

“We spoke earlier. In the chat room.”

She sighs as she relaxes in the chair, “H-How did you find me?”

“There are many ways to find people.”

“Will it hurt?” She asks flatly.

I look towards her and smile slightly. “No. It won’t hurt.”