GABRIEL (Killer Book 2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

  • Warning
  • Copyright
  • Acknowledgements
  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Chapter 4
  • Chapter 5
  • Chapter 6
  • Chapter 7
  • Chapter 8
  • Chapter 9
  • Chapter 10
  • Chapter 11
  • Chapter 12
  • Chapter 13
  • Chapter 14
  • Chapter 15
  • Chapter 16
  • Chapter 17
  • Chapter 18
  • Chapter 19
  • Chapter 20
  • Chapter 21
  • Chapter 22
  • Chapter 23
  • Chapter 24
  • Chapter 25
  • Chapter 26
  • Chapter 27
  • Chapter 28
  • Chapter 29
  • Chapter 30
  • Chapter 31
  • Chapter 32
  • Chapter 33
  • Chapter 34
  • Epilogue
  • About the Author
WARNING:

 

The content in this novel is taboo, grotesque and disturbing.

If you’re looking for a knight in shining armor, a princess or a fairy godmother, then this is not the story for you.

Read at your own risk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GABRIEL

Copyright 
Bonny Capps 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person (alive or dead) is coincidental. The characters and story were created strictly from the author’s imagination.

This eBook is licensed for your enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

 
Acknowledgements:

This book is dedicated to everyone who made me realize that my dream could be a reality. Without my readers, this sequel would never have happened.

Thank you for reading my work, you really are making a dream come true.

I want to thank my wonderful mother for reading through and proofing my books, no-matter how scary they may be at times. You and dad have supported my dream from the beginning.

I love you both.

I want to thank my phenomenal husband for being such a great support and my kids for behaving so well on my writing days. I love you all to the moon and back.

To my wonderful sister, who has always been my number one fan: I love you, seester!

Ebony McMillan – you have been the most amazing PA that a girl could ask you. Thank you for being amazing!

To all of the veteran authors who took me under their wing and held my hand through this entire process, I’m forever thankful!

Cover Credit: tverdohlib

“It is madness for sheep to talk peace with a wolf.”

-Thomas Fuller

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1

"The more I looked at people, the more I hated them."

-Charles Starkweather

 

Age 12 - Emerson hospital (Concord, MA)

“Grandma.” mom whispered, running the back of her fingers along my great grandmother’s cheek. The sudden stroke left her face sagging, but the intensity in her eyes clearly indicated that something was very wrong. She wanted to say something, but the stroke left her unable to speak, and the frustration showed in my mother’s eyes as her eyebrows pinched together.

My great grandmother’s old, withered fingers clung to the thin, paper like sheet. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her chest noticeably shook as her heart thrummed away.

She was afraid, yet she couldn’t speak a word. Her mouth would open and close, but it wasn’t any use, and as I watched, I couldn’t respond either. Mostly because I was often the one who never spoke a word, but also because I felt such remorse as my beloved great-grandmother laid before me helplessly. I wanted so badly to reach my arms out and hug her, but emotions were something that I’d always been weary of.

The doctor appeared in the doorway with a kind smile spread across his face. “A word?” He asked and my mother nodded slowly as she tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear.

We stood in the hallway, and I held onto my little sister’s hand as I watched the shadow man walk towards my great-grandmother’s room. I could never see his face, it was always covered, but I knew he wasn’t a real… Or was he? I could never tell, I did know that he was always there. He was always watching.

He stopped momentarily as his hooded head turned slowly. I was sure that he was staring right at me, and I swallowed hard when he lifted his index finger to his lips. They were the only visible part of him that I could see.

He was dressed in all black, just like the grim reaper.

My mother raised an eyebrow when she looked to me, and then her gaze followed my own. I was sure that she couldn’t see the shadow man, after all, he’d already went into the room with my great-grandmother. She once again focused on the doctor as his lips moved rapidly. He spoke at a fast pace, and I remember wanting to shake him and tell him to please slow down, but I never got a chance, because the horrendous flat-line alarm rang throughout the entire wing, sending the doctors and nurses running straight to my great-grandmother’s room.

We followed behind the staff and gasped at what we found. Great-Grandmother’s eyes were frozen wide with death, the fear still evident as the doctors and nurses tried to revive her, but it was no use.

The window was wide open, and when I ran over and peered into the busy street, my heart was racing.

There he was, standing on the ledge of the building. As fast as he appeared, he was gone.

My mother dropped to her knees and grasped my shoulders, “Gabriel, what did you see when you were staring earlier? Tell me!”

I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t say a word, because as far as I knew, I was the only one who could see him…

And that wasn’t the last time that I would see him. Unfortunately, he would become a massive part of my life.

A shadow that represented the darkest parts of my mind.

 

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

“Gabriel.” She whispers through parted lips as I make love to her. Her auburn hair falls over the satin pillow as her chest rises and falls beneath my own. Her eyes flutter and she tightens around my length as I fill her. Long nails sink into my back as I relish in the pain inflicted by another lover.

I watch her pulse drum away beneath the soft skin of her neck, and I want more than ever to sink my teeth into her skin. I want to strangle her, cut her, and kill her.

I always find the sad beauties, and I help them escape.

The red in her hair caught my eye as it captured the low lighting in the dive bar. She was alone, the tears in her eyes glistened as she drank to numb herself. I’d like to say that I’m filling a void in her life. She’s in her mid-thirties, and from what I’ve learned, she’s a nurse.

She saves lives, and I take them.

I find my release as she clings to me, her cognac colored eyes finding mine. Her lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She murmurs, “That was amazing.”

I smile as I lean down and kiss her smooth cheek before rolling off of her and retrieving my pants.

“I… I should go.” She whispers as she sits up. I look over towards her and stare into her questioning eyes.

“Don’t go.” I respond. That one sentiment makes happiness dance in her once sad eyes. My grin widens as I stand and approach the door, “I’ll go get us a drink.”

I walk through the halls as the voices of countless victims whisper to me. The cold floor creaks with each step that I take as the last minutes of her life tick away.

I’m no fool. I know that each action has a consequence. The father that I never knew learned that lesson. My mother would never speak of him, but everyone knew, including myself. The internet is a beautiful thing, especially when you want answers and when your father was a famous killer - and your mother, a survivor.

As for the man that raised me, I did follow in his footsteps. I partnered with him and together, we’ve built a very profitable contracting business. My biological father’s inheritance and the success of my contracting firm as left me very wealthy, but it’s never enough. His sick seed created another killer, but I’d like to think that I’m not as monstrous.

Though, it’s hard to deny who I am. I have his eyes, his hair and his build. I would find loathing in my own mother’s eyes when she looked at me. I can’t blame her. As I grew older, she saw him when she saw me.

People are funny; they deny the truth when it stares them in the eye – it’s as if silence is a Band-Aid to block out the past, but it really isn’t. No. Silence is a lie. You can either have a lie pour from your lips, or you can keep it locked inside of your mind forever.

Unfortunately, I’m afraid that I am the biggest liar of them all.

My entire life, I felt like I didn’t belong. When others in high school were falling in love, it was glaringly obvious that I was not… I had several girlfriends, but I wasn’t like the other guys. My eyes would zero in on their necks, and I would watch their pulse drum away, or I would become entranced by how their mouths would move, but I’d never hear a word. I would usually scare them off with my unusual sexual appetite.

I soon became obsessed with the human anatomy, and my mind became my favorite place to be. When I began to notice that I didn’t have mom’s brown hair or my dad’s blue eyes, I became suspicious.

That’s when I discovered Gabe Thibault.

My father, a murderer, a monster.

I was blown away when I saw his picture pull up on the computer screen. The resemblance was uncanny, and I then understood why my mother looked at me the way that she did.

My hatred for him grew. When I read about his victims, I was disgusted – yet intrigued. His hands were capable of terrible, grisly acts, and the more that I read about him, the angrier and more obsessed I became.

When I saw more of him in myself than me, I decided that I would also need to feed my demon – the evil spirit that had a pension for blood – the shadow that followed me everywhere that I went.

I was desperate to understand my warped mind, yet I still didn’t have it in me to hurt those who do not wish to be hurt.

I became depressed and discovered online groups, people felt the same desperation that I had. They wanted death more than anything, while I only wanted a way to quiet my mind.

So, I found a way to help them and myself. My skill as a carpenter allowed me to build a hom
e
fit for someone as sick as me, a place to let my demons coexist with the sad souls that wish for nothing more than to end their lives.

While my father relished in the pain of others,
I used my deviance to help those who wished to end their pain
.

I reach the kitchen and pull two wine glasses from the cabinet. I fill both
with a fine cabernet before opening the small vile and emptying its contents into one of the glasses. I am sure to hold my glass in my left hand, keeping mind not to mix the glasses.

Walking back towards the master bedroom, I count each step as if my sanity relies on it. It does. It reminds me of what I’m doing. It keeps me in the present and as close to reality as possible.

I enter the room and see her sitting up in the bed with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. I sit on the edge of the bed and hand her the glass.

“Thank you.” She says softly before taking a sip of the wine.

Looking around, her eyes dance with curiosity, “You havea really nice place, it is beautiful, but it seems so far from town
.
You must enjoy your privacy.”
I smile, “A private life can be underestimated. I like silence after a busy day.”

She nods, “Touché… I like noise. It keeps my mind busy, reminds me that I’m not alone in this world.”

I grin as I raise my glass, “To busy minds.”

She giggles nervously as she clinks her glass against mine, and I watch with eager eyes as she tilts the glass back and drinks every last drop.

Immediately, I see her eyebrows pinch together as the drug does its job of drawing her into unconsciousness.

She clumsily places the glass on the nightstand before placing her palm against her forehead.

“I…I…” She trails off as her eyelids become heavy.

“Natalie, let your eyes fall shut.” I whisper as I gently run a finger over her neck.

She slumps against the headboard and I sigh as I place my full glass of wine beside her empty one.

Standing, I gently lift her body and make my way down the hall.

 

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