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Uncovered Project: I'm Your Boogeyman: Part Two
🕑 Added 2020-09-07 13:29:58 +0000 UTCI wanted to do a wide range of different killers, I'd probably choose different ones today, but I'm still happy with what I was able to do back in the day.
Chapter Two: Those Who Watch
The wall before the long meeting table consisted of twelve television screens. Four across and three down. There was one for each of the individual bedrooms. Three for the hallway. Three for the living room. And two for the kitchen. They left the bathroom free of cameras, but they had bugged it so they could at least hear anything that was going on. There was also a separate set of screens for examining outside the house which included the driveway, the dieing back yard, and the road. They had also left blind spots all throughout the house. Why? It was more fun that way.
They watched intently, quietly. Watching their experiment play out like a play on stage, or, mice in a maze. There were six of them, same as in the house. Each of them were extremely wealthy and powerful. It showed in the fact they had set up this house and bought the six beings living inside it now to fill their strange fancy.
The first Clancy Gates, and entrepreneur who had opened on online banking system, that within its first month, had tripled his small investments and made him an overnight success. He was a mildly unimpressive man in appearance, short, stocky and with a receding hairline. But once he opened his mouth he was a charmer. It had actually been him who had initiated, what he called, the Angel Cage. He took the first big step and had bought the cannibal, Zeke Daniels.
Next to him was Eleanor Bisbee, founder and CEO of Busy Bee cosmetics. The world’s foremost leader in natural cosmetics and toiletries. She had started the company out on essentially beeswax candles and involved it from there. She was an attractive older woman, but she dressed moderately and barely wore any makeup. She tied her long brown hair back in a ponytail and wore half-moon glasses before her narrow eyes. She had been friends with Clancy for a few years when he proposed the idea of the Angel Cage to her. At first she was reprehensive, and then she bit at the idea. With a small fortune she bought the literal lady killer, Adam Graves.
The third to join the game was Clark Mathis, one of the world’s most famous actors, a well known playboy, ad a collector of the strange and macabre. Clark was an extremely handsome individual, tall dark, swarthy and with a penchant for strange roles. You could see this in his dark eyes and great white smile. He had been a customer and friend of Eleanor since she had started her company, and when she introduced him to Clancy and his strange idea he instantly jumped in without any questions asked and purchased the torturer Stuart Mason.
Clark then brought in his long time friend and gambling partner Doug Franklin, who owned multiple casinos in Las Vegas, and many more around the world. He was an extremely tall man with flaming red hair and face covered by an equally red beard and dark freckles. It was he and Clark who turned the whole idea in to a giant gamble. And with the steaks raised he purchased the world’s greatest assassin, William Guthrie.
Emma Trust was an heiress and a genius at doubling and tripling her already vast fortune. She invested in the unbelievable and the underdogs, turning molehills into mountains. She had been the first to invest in Clancy’s unorthodox idea, and ever since Clancy was in her eternal debt of gratitude. Once his idea started to take hold, he invited the lovely and near genius lady into the game as well. Emma was a slight woman, thin as a rake all her life and never very strong. She kept her blonde hair cropped short so it wouldn’t get in her eyes as she studied and poured over books. He wide green eyes devouring anything written. She agreed and instantly bought the Slaughtering Angel, Cecy Gables.
That left Edgar Glass a millionaire recluse in the same fashion as Scrooge. He was Emma’s dearly devote godfather, and when she introduced the frail old man to the idea of the Angel Cage, he jumped at the idea. He needed something in what could be his final years, and he was never one to turn down a good bet. He researched and researched and decided that his favorite killer was the viper and Black Widow, Lana Finlay.
The players were ready, the pieces set to play. All that was left was to sit back and watch. Within the first day someone had already been killed. Unfortunately it was the luckless delivery boy. There was a piece missing though which was causing much discussion amongst the players. Zeke Daniels had gone missing sometime during the night when all of them were gone from the room with the wall of always on televisions. He was no where to be seen. Hidden somewhere amongst one of the various blind spots. This made Clancy nervous. Since Zeke was his pawn and already missing so early in the game his chances were running extremely slim.
“I’m surprised.” Emma murmured quietly under her breath. “Cecy’s taking more time than I expected.”
“What were you expecting?” Doug laughed. “That she’d gone all ape shit and start killing them as quickly as they look at her?”
Emma smiled. “Not exactly.” She leaned back, lightly brushing the blade of her fingertips against her lips. “Although, in a way, I suppose she already has.”
“If looks could kill.” Clark laughed, slapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. “Although, I’m sure she wishes she could.”
“Why are you in such a happy mood?” Clancy spit irritably, a newspaper crumpled underneath his rapping fingers.
Clark‘s wide, crooked grin glinted in the dim lights “My man bishop has your pawn.”
Clancy started. “You don’t know that!” The little blue vein that ran from the corner of his head to his temple throbbed. Looking as if it were going to squirt at the grinning Clark.
Eleanor eased Clancy back and shit Clark and warning look. “That’s right. Zeke could be hiding out. After all, we never heard him leave the bathroom.”
“Per se.” Edgar snarled from the farthest corner of the table.
“What makes you say per se?” Doug chuckled.
“Someone else went to bathroom that night. Obviously knew. Knew Zeke.” Edgar chewed ravenously at his fingernails.
Doug and Clark exchanged exasperated and mocking glances before turning back their full attention on the screens.
Emma leaned forward, beckoning Edgar to continue. “You never told us you heard someone?”
“Never asked.”
“Yes we did!” Clancy barked. “We asked-”
“You asked if anything happened.” Edgar said with a grin so smug it created a lump in Clancy’s throat. “You didn’t ask if I suspected anything happened.”
Emma turned. “He has a point, Clancy.”
Clancy huffishly turned back to the television screens, fuming angrily. His eyes focused on Stuart’s bedroom. The single camera was placed so that only the bed and doorway could be seen. They were watching them, but even serial killers deserved some common privacy.
Clark stood. “I’m afraid I have to take my leave.” He sighed, plopping a floppy, old top hat on his head. “Movie to shoot and all. Should anything happen-” He waved his cell phone in the air. He then cut a sarcastic look towards Edgar. “Also call me if you suspect anything to happen.” He chortled as he strutted out of the room.
“Fucker.” Edgar growled at the end of the table.
Emma smiled pleasantly and reached out, patting Edgar’s gnarly hand. “Hush dear Godfather.”
Edgar spat and looked to the screens. “Don’t know why I picked that woman. Floating around like some air headed butterfly. That Cecy…” He nodded and grinned, showing his perfectly white teeth. “That Cecy is a woman for the ages.”
“Why is everyone so fascinated with her?” Eleanor gasped exasperatedly. “I swear I have seen special after bloody special about her on television.”
“She’s different. She doesn’t fit the mold.” Emma replied coolly. “Look at her. Young. Delicate. Pretty-”
“A regular southern belle.” Dough laughingly interrupted.
“On a whole,” Emma continued. “Cecy is absolutely fascinating. I adore her.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She sneered. She then turned to smile at the screens. Or rather, the image on the second screen in the second row. Adam was laying on his bed, shirtless, and sleeping. “Mine is just as intriguing.”
“Is it so interesting when the attractive kill?” Doug asked. “Sure, fucking ugly ducklings do it all the time.” He rolled his eyes. “But when Helen of Troy, or, Narccisius do it everyone has to go ape shit about it.”
“Mythology references, Mr. Franklin?” Eleanor chuckled. “Impressive.”
“Don’t get snotty with me lady.” Doug sneered back at her. “Old bitch.” He grumbled under his breath.
Doug had a handsome crooked grin. Charming for a southern gent. “Now my boy has it all.”
“Regular quarterback.” Eleanor sighed then pulled a clipboard closer to her. “How old was he again?”
“William?” Doug perked up. “Forties I think.”
“Forty-five.” Edgar gurgled.
“Good shape for a man who should by all means be going soft.” Eleanor hummed languidly.
“Would you all shut the hell up?” Clancy snarled.
“Would you get the thong out your ass and enjoy the show?” Edgar reared back and spit across the room. The phlegm hit just beside Clancy’s hand.
Clancy lurched and jumped out of his chair, knocking it to the floor. “That’s it. I have to go.” He blustered as he stormed out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway.
y
Cecy took her first steps out of her room early that morning and strode down the gray hallway. She stopped and looked at the cracked door to her left. Everyone else had their doors closed, and more than likely, locked. She quickly walked passed the door and into the living room. She was surprised to see William there, sitting in the armchair like he had been there ever since the dawn of time. So natural. So inhuman.
“Good morning.” Cecy murmured.
“Good morning to you too.” William said in a dark, yet very warm voice. “I trust you slept well?”
Cecy furrowed her brow and licked her lips. “Almost. You?”
William grinned from ear to ear. “I always sleep well.”
Cecy smiled briefly then turned and looked into the kitchen then back at William. She took a few more steps forward then sat down across from him on the sofa.
“You’re not gonna harm anybody while you’re here are you?” William examined her closely with his bead like eyes. “At least, as long as they don’t try anything on you.”
“Same to you.” Cecy’s eyes focused on his and she smiled.
“Angie Baby.”
Cecy furrowed her brow at him, her smile fading.
William chuckled. “Didn’t expect you to get the reference.” He crossed his legs and leaned back into the armchair. “It’s a song from my younger days. It’s about a young girl who isn’t all there in the head, so her parents take her out of school. They keep her in her room where she plays her radio. One day, a peeping tom comes a calling and well…” William laughed. “Lets just say he wasn’t ever seen again.”
“I know the song.” Cecy remarked. “I was just surprised that you called me that.”
“The first time I saw you I thought of that song.” William said. “When I saw your face that song became stuck in my head.” He pursed his lips. “Angie Baby, you’re a special lady. Living in a world of make believe. Well, maybe.” He looked back into Cecy’s eyes. “That’s basically what I think of you.”
“Why?”
“I was hired to kill you once.”
Cecy’s eyes got wide and she gripped tightly onto her knees.
“I obviously didn’t do it.” William laughed. “I couldn’t. Remember Martin Caruso?”
Surprise washed briefly over Cecy’s face. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well, his brother was awfully pissed and you were his first choice.” William uncrossed his legs. “I tailed you for a couple of days and I got something from you I never got from anyone else in the world.”
“And what is that?” Cecy asked.
“I felt like you were my daughter.” William confessed. “I realized that I wasn’t watching you to figure out when to kill you. I was guarding you from Martin Caruso’s brother.”
Cecy laughed. “Your daughter?”
“Laugh all you want, but it’s true.” William crossed his legs again. “I killed big brother Caruso. That’s what got me caught. He’s thugs ratted me out.”
“And all over little old me?”
William nodded. “My little Angie Baby.”
“I’m flattered, William. I am. But I’m not your daughter, and given the chance, I would have killed you like I did Caruso.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“What are your plans here?” Cecy asked.
William sighed and looked over the top of Cecy’s head as he answered. “I’m not saying anything. Not even to you. It is too risky.”
“Good morning!” Lana sang cheerfully as she came out of the hallway. She wore a pink bathrobe and had her long hair tied up in a bun.
Cecy frowned at her as Lana came and sat herself comfortably beside her. She laid her hands on Cecy’s shoulders good morning. “Did you sleep well, Ms. Cecy?”
Cecy put her tongue against her cheek and cleared her throat. “I suppose. You seem…” She stretched her mouth out. “Chipper?”
“Like a bird!” Lana sighed, clinging to Cecy’s arm. “Lets say us girls go into the kitchen and make breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry.” Cecy muttered, trying to pull her arm away.
“Oh please?” Lana fluttered her thick eyelashes.
Cecy ripped her arm out of Lana’s constricting hands. “I don’t really feel like it.” She got up from the sofa and tried to move towards William.
“At least have coffee with her.” William grinned.
Cecy shot him a wicked look, making him laugh even harder.
Lana stood up and grabbed Cecy up again. “Please. I’d really like to talk to someone.” She cooed as she dragged Cecy with her into the kitchen.
Cecy turned before Lana made her disappear through the door. “You’re pushing it.” She mouthed to William who rolled with laughter.
Adam came out of the hallway and stared bewildered at William. To him, William didn’t seem like the kind of man who could smile, let alone roll uncontrollably with laughter.
“What’s going on?” He asked in a flat voice.
“Lana is trying to befriend Cecy.” William sighed, catching his breath.
Adam grunted and rolled his eyes disgustedly. “She tried doing that to me last night.” He sneered. “I want nothing to do with that woman. She’s way to obvious.”
William nodded. “But it seems she’s trying to set her traps carefully.”
“But befriending Cecy?”
“Cecy is another woman, along with Lana’s biggest competition.” William shrugged. “Keep you enemies closer I suppose is what she’s thinking.”
“And what are you doing?” Adam asked. “Are you just gonna sit there the whole time?”
William shrugged again. “That’s my little secret. What’s yours?”
Adam sighed and stared off into the kitchen door, watching as Lana dragged Cecy across the checkered linoleum to the yellow, Formica table. “Have Zeke and Stuart woken up yet?”
William shook his head. “Zeke has never left the bathroom since last night.”
Adam furrowed his brow. “What?” He looked down the hallway and directly at the shut bathroom door at the end.
“Fucked up piece he is.” William muttered under his breath.
“Should we do something?”
“I’d leave that thing alone if I were you.” William instructed Adam carefully. “He hates you.”
Lana strutted out of the kitchen and smiled. “Good morning, Adam.” She reached out, grabbing his wrist and pulled him in to peck him on the cheek. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Go keep Cecy company. I just have to go to the restroom.”
Adam swallowed hard and met William’s eyes. William got up and walked into the kitchen.
Lana released Adam then went and strutted down the hallway. As she did Stuart came out of his room ahead of her.
“Up early this morning, Lana?” He asked.
Lana plastered on her biggest, fakest smile. “Yes. And you?”
“Up all night.” Stuart said with a contented sigh.
“That’s too bad.” Lana chuckled softly as she continued down the hallway.
Stuart watched as she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. He then walked into the kitchen where William was sitting at the table with Cecy.
“What is wrong with that woman?” Stuart asked as he moved for the fridge.
The only reply he got was Cecy staring venomous fangs into him. William avoided Cecy’s gaze and Stuart by staring down into his coffee.
“She knows what she’s doing.” Stuart chuckled as he pulled out a carton of orange juice.
Cecy turned and looked at William. “Do you know where Zeke is?”
“I haven‘t seen him.” Stuart answered suddenly.
“I wasn’t asking you.” Cecy snipped quietly then looked over at Adam standing in the doorway and staring down the hallway.
Cecy stood and dumped her cup into the sink. “I need to go.” She pushed passed Adam in the doorway and walked through the living room. She was about to go down the hallway when Lana came out of the bathroom and she turned back and laid down on the couch.
Adam stared in disbelief as Lana came down the hallway. He looked to William in the kitchen for some sort of answer. If Zeke was such a nut job, then why hadn’t he eviscerated Lana in the bathroom?
As Lana went back into the kitchen William came out and regained his seat on the armchair.
“You said…” Adam stopped when Cecy sat up on the sofa. He pressed his lips together and jogged down the hallway to the bathroom.
He searched the bathroom from top to bottom. But there was no sign of Zeke anywhere.
“What are you doing?”
Adam jumped up from the ceramic floor and looked at Cecy in the doorway. “I was looking for uh-” He hesitated.
“For what?” Cecy came into the bathroom with him and looked up to the ceiling then into the shower. She pushed the curtain aside slightly and looked into the tub.
“Nothing.” Adam cleared his throat. “Never mind.”
“Sure.” Cecy murmured quietly. She plucked something from the drain of the tub and held it up. “Was it this?”
Adam furrowed his brow and plucked the razor blade from her fingers. “No.” He whispered intensely. “Where’d you find this?”
Cecy motioned towards the tub. “It was just kind of suspended in the drain.” She watched him inspect the blade. “Do you think it belongs to someone in here, or, to our gracious hosts?”
Adam took some toilet paper and wrapped the razor in it then tossed it into the trashcan. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Ooh, good job flushing it.” Cecy sneered sarcastically. “That just leaves the butcher knives and frying pans. We’re so safe.”
Adam slammed his fist behind Cecy’s head, freezing her in place against the bathroom wall. “Why don’t you shut the hell up?” Adam screamed at her.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cecy roared. She took a closer step towards him and moved her hand as if to grab his throat. “Don’t get pissed at me because I have no taste for you.” She pulled away and stormed into her room. She slammed the door and there was a frustrated scream that followed.
Adam panted heavily and ripped his fingers through his hair. When he looked up, he saw Lana and Stuart staring at him from the end of the hallway. He gripped the door and slammed the door on their peering eyes.
Lana turned and looked at William. “What on earth…” She whispered shaking her head then went into the kitchen.
Stuart stood there for a moment, fiddling with his glasses. When he saw William staring at him he dashed off to his bedroom and locked the door.
William laughed and looked back down at his book. Then the doorbell rang. He sat up tentatively and studied the front door. Down the hallway some of the others had stirred from there tombs and come out to see what the foreign noise was.
William stood up, unsure what he should do to answer the knob-less door. The door bell rang again and the door swung open on its own.
In walked a young teen carrying a large package. “Delivery.” He said with a stunned smile.
Without thinking William brought the heavy book down on the boy’s head. What was once the boy crumpled and spilled onto the floor like a rag doll. The package tumbled from his arms and landed on William’s feet. The door slammed shut. Lana screamed. And a TV set turned on.
“Now was that necessary?” A woman scolded softly.
William rolled the boy over and checked his vitals. He was fading quickly. His skull was sunk in in the area the book had crashed down. William sighed and shook his head and he quickly vanished into the kitchen.
“What happened?” Adam asked, coming out of the hallway behind the horrified Lana.
With a shaking hand, Lana pointed to the boy on the floor. “William killed him!”
“Not yet.” William grunted as he came back out of the kitchen, a long knife in his hand. “Adam, come give me a hand.”
“With what?” Adam gasped breathlessly.
“There’s a rather large furnace in the basement for such a thing.” The shadow on the screen said with a soft laugh. “There’s a door behind the refrigerator.”
William stuck the knife into the delivery boy’s neck and wrapped a towel around it. “I guess we better move the fridge first.” He looked up at Adam then motioned to the kitchen with his head.
Cecy came from her room and started at the sight of the head body. Her eyes open wide for a moment and she looked near sick. But then the night-like calmness returned to her face and she watched as William and Adam headed to the kitchen.
Cecy walked into the living room and hovered over the dead boy. She looked up and away from him and saw the package. She knelt down and began undressing him.
“What on earth are you doing?” Lana sneered in disgust.
“Nothing.” Cecy muttered and looked over the clothes, pleased with the lack of blood staining it. “Good work William.” She whispered to herself and folded the clothes up and placed them in the armchair.
“What’s this?” She continued and moved to the package.
“Supplies.” The woman on TV sighed. “I should’ve known that this would happen. The way William just sits in there all day, he’s been waiting for it.”
Cecy ripped open the box and pulled out another, smaller, white package with Zeke’s name written across it.
“Clothing. You only had one change of clothes when you got here.” The woman explained.
Cecy pulled out her package and grabbed up the boy’s uniform again.
“Can you hand me mine?” Lana asked.
“No.” Cecy grunted as she strutted passed Lana. As she walked down the hall she rapped on Stuart’s door. “Package for you in the lobby.” She shouted.
Lana stared stricken towards the box, laying just behind the dead body. Luckily for her William and Adam came out and grabbed up the body, lugging it down to the basement and too the roaring incinerator.
The laid the body down just before it and stared in awe at the glowing hell inside.
“They didn’t seem too upset.” Adam breathed heavily.
William put on the gloves to open the incinerator hanging on the wall beside him. “I’m not too surprised. This was probably all just a test anyways.” He opened up the fiery gates and pulled out the extendable table inside.
“They certainly had things planned out.” Adam whispered, lifting the boy onto the table. When the boy’s flesh hit the metal slab his skin hissed and blistered.
“God that reeks.” Adam gurgled and turned away.
“Better than letting him rot upstairs.” William murmured. He made a cross across his chest and whispered underneath his breath.
Adam watched him curiously as William went through a small ritual before sliding the boy inside the fire.
“You Catholic?”
“I’m Italian.” William slammed the gate shut. “Don’t suppose you have a religion?”
Adam shrugged. “I think my mother was Jewish. The family that adopted me though was Baptist.”
William arched his brow. “You’re adopted?”
“Yeah.” He looked at the furnace, wrinkling his nose. “One thing I can say about them is that they did not believe in cremation.”
William chuckled and slapped Adam on the back. “What happened to your folks?”
“My dad left us. Then my mom would beat me.” Adam muttered. “That’s it I suppose. I don’t remember them all that much anyways.”
“Just curious. Cecy was adopted when she was a kid too. It was by her grandparents though. Her mom was like fourteen or something.”
Adam furrowed his brow. “How do you know that about her?”
“An killer knows everything about his prey. How they walk. How they talk. How they eat.”
Adam shook his head and opened up the basement door and stepped back into the kitchen. “Why do you think she took his clothes though?”
William grinned. “It’s Cecy. You can know her history but not her.”
As they came out of the kitchen they saw Cecy skulking around Stuart’s door. She had her ear pressed to the door. Then she was kneeling on the floor looking under the space between the door and the floor. She pulled out her sliver of mirror and slid it underneath flat then turned it so she could see more into the room. It was dark, barely lit by the lamp on the side table. She moved to mirror slightly, seeing the painting next to the window. It was Van Gogh’s The Bedroom. The picture in her room was different. It was a scene from the Sistine Chapel. God Separating Light From Darkness was what the caption said. She tilted the mirror again and saw, just barely, the top of Stuart’s head. He was standing before his open wardrobe.
Cecy tried to force the mirror to go farther, but her hand was too big to go under the door. Stuart turned, closing the wardrobe. It was then Cecy was sure she saw something. But she had to quickly recoil her hand and roll out of the hallway and to the side of the entry way.
She glanced down at her hand, annoyed to see she had cut herself with her makeshift blade. The long narrow cut down the top pad of her hand glowed vibrant red with fresh blood. She sucked at it like it was wine before she stuffed the blade into a makeshift bag that she then placed under her shirt.
As Stuart was coming out of his room and out of the hallway, he watched as Cecy passed by, licking the drooling cut on her palm. Stuart’s eyes followed her still and licked his lips. Oh the sight of fresh blood. How welcome in such a house. How welcome to his eyes.
Adam quickly darted passed him. Stuart disgusted him even more so than Lana’s overly obvious advances. Adam knew that he himself was probably just as disgusting. But he could never harm a kid, let alone torture and disembowel one.
“Hey.” He heard someone hiss.
He turned and saw Cecy peering out of a crack in her door. “What?”
Her eyes darted to the other end of the hall then back to Adam. “Come here. I don’t want anyone to hear.”
Adam approached and leaned closer to the door. “What don’t you want anyone to hear? That you’re spying on Stuart?”
“Oh no you’re being cheeky.” Cecy sneered. “No. And yes.” She huffed and opened her door up slightly more. She reached out and cupped her hand around his ear and leaned closer. “I haven’t seen Zeke last night. Some might take that as good news. But not here.” Her hand was hot and soft against the side of Adam’s face. Her rasping breath was cold. “Not in this damn house.”
“So you think Stuart has Zeke?” Adam half laughed.
“Those wardrobes in our rooms can fit at least five men. Especially someone Zeke’s size and stature. Besides, remember that Stuart’s most favorite place to hide and torture people was his bedroom?”
“Yeah.” Adam scratched his chin. “Got some sort of thrill for being so obvious, yet so unsuspicious.”
“Well?” Cecy insisted, pulling back into her room.
“It makes sense.” Adam muttered. “But William would of noticed something. From that armchair he would of seen Stuart take Zeke off to his room.”
“William sleeps don’t he?” Cecy hissed. “Isn’t it possible that Stuart some how got Zeke during the middle of the night when William would be dead asleep?” She rolled her eyes and grunted impatiently. “Guy that big can sleep like a baby even in this place.”
“I guess…”
“I’m right!” Cecy turned back into her room. “I always win.” She closed the door on him.
Adam turned back down the hallway, meeting William’s observant gaze. William lifted his hand and pointed. “You’ve got red on you.”
Adam furrowed his brow and placed his hand on the side of his head where Cecy had touched him. When he looked at fingertips he saw the red. It was Cecy’s fresh blood. He stole a quick glance back and William and darted back into his room. He shut the door quietly and took off his shirt and instead of replacing it with one of many similar ones in the closet laid down on his bed.
Staring up at the ceiling and straining his eyes, Adam could see the thin, round cable that ran underneath the floral wallpaper running along the very tops of the walls. It reminded him of the ivy that had once grown in over abundance around his childhood home in Richmond, Virginia. But the cold, hidden, and robotic qualities of it reminded it of his teenage stomping grounds in Seattle, Washington.
The floral wallpaper reminded him of his step-mother and her obsessive need to cover up everything dark and ugly with things bright, frilly, lacey, and overly feminine. Adam remembered his embarrassment of bringing high school sweethearts home into a home that’s air hung heavy with stale potpourri. Every table dripped with lace and doilies. Ad every other room had to be painted pink and splashed his vibrant floral wallpaper. It wasn’t something you’d find in Seattle.
He rolled over and stared into the dead, uneven eyes of Picasso’s women. Les Demoiselles d’Avignon was engraved on the gold plate at the bottom of the heavy, wooden frame.
“I did kill a few guys, ya know?” He muttered grumpily under his breath. He reached up and scratched his peck. His first victim, in fact, had been male.
It was then Adam realized how much he missed sliding a pair of headphones over his ears and listening to the music that drooled from inside the foam cases. He’d have to order something to play music, then get some music, however he was supposed to do that. Those Who Watched didn’t exactly elaborate on how they ordered “whatever their hearts desired.”
What Adam’s heart desired then an there was Green Day and a cold beer.
What Lana’s heart desired was for someone to sit and talk with her, and a copy of he favorite tabloid rag to talk over. How she missed her best friend Caroline back in L.A. Back when Lana was in prison Carline would come and visit her, bringing a stack of magazines they’d try to go through in their short one hour together. Caroline believed Lana was innocent, just like Lana herself.
At that moment, Lana was noticing how much bigger her closet was compared to the wardrobe she was now hanging some remnants of her wardrobe in. A slink black halter. A gauzy blue sun dress. A red, very low cut blouse. A gray turtle neck that fit her so perfectly she blamed it on her seconds husband’s death. A dark green silk tunic. Three pairs of her best jeans. Two slim fitting skirts. A miniskirt to go with the perfect turtleneck. Then there were five pairs of her most favorite shoes.
She estimated her entire collection was over a two hundred times that. She desired that as well. If she were to finally get out of those nasty prison uniforms she might as well have it. If these were to be her final hours she wanted to look good during them.
Lana closed the wardrobe and looked around the tiny room.
“My closet was bigger than this…” She grumbled as she sat on the edge of her bed and propped her elbows on her knees so she could rest her head in her palms to pout effectively. To bad no one cared.
The only thing half attractive in the entire room, aside from her tiny wardrobe, was the large print hanging on the wall. Jean-Honore Fragonard’s the Swing was just generic enough that Lana knew it. She had no clue who the artist was or that the painting’s actual title was the Swing, but she knew the picture well enough. Her eighth, and only living husband liked artwork and had tried to get Lana into the cultured things he liked. But it was perhaps this nagging of his that ended up in Lana acting to hastily and becoming caught.
Lana fell back against the cool sheets and sighed. What her heart desired most now was her daughter, a glass of wine, and someone to whine to.
William and Cecy didn’t want anything. They had all they needed in sitting quietly in the living room. Cecy was laid up on the loveseat reading an uncracked copy of a definitive collection of all things Sherlock Holmes. The archduke of all literary detectives had been Cecy’s childhood hero growing up. During college she had written a novel surrounding Holmes and his obsessive secret life. Had she not been so dedicated to planning and executing her own secret life she liked to think she could of become a writer.
William, still in his armchair, was thumbing mindlessly through a Stephen King novel, half paying attention simply for the bloody, gory parts he remembered reading viciously as a college student. He had never put two and two together that perhaps it was this need for bloodshed that led him here.
Cecy rose from the loveseat, laying the book over the arm to hold her place. She moved into the kitchen and poked her head into the fridge. It was only now that she realized how much she missed her little fridge in her adequate apartment back in Athens, Georgia. She hated the constant heat that Georgia seemed to constantly radiate. But she so loved the night the college provided. She also missed the three little shelves her fridge had, and how she kept her supply of canned beverages in the crisper. She missed her peace sodas and chocolate milks. But right now what she craved most was her frozen coffees.
In fact, all that Cecy wanted was even one shot of caffeine. Because more so than her addiction to murder, was her addiction to caffeine.
William closed his book, stared over at Cecy’s abandoned tome and then stared out into space. He had enjoyed his short time in this house for the simple fact he could retract back into his mind and simply think. In jail it was impossible. It had been about five years since he had had the chance to simply turn off and think. For most of his life he had been on the life. A sort of gypsy he’d like to think. As a child, he had been raised in a military family and they were always moving from base to base.
It was only in college that he had stopped moving. It was during this grace period in his life he had made his first kill. It was an accident, by an eye opening one at that. It was one of his teachers. But luckily for the quick thinking William, he was able to cover it up as a suicide. And people graciously accepted that lie like a piece of pie.
William sighed. Now he wanted pie.
It was within a few moments that everyone wanted some air freshener. A horrible odor filtered through the house by means of the air vents. Cecy was the first to notice, being in the closest proximity to a vent.
Her nose twitched and she wretched. She quickly hopped out of the kitchen, suspecting that was where the smell was coming from. Only she was horrified to learn it followed her into the living room.
She turned to William. “Do you smell that?”
William turned his nose to the air and shrugged. “I can’t smell things very well. What does it smell like?”
“Something decaying…molding…cheese?” Cecy muttered, thinking merely of things that could be emitting such a smell in the kitchen.
The next to smell it was Adam, who had turned his air on high. The smell caused him to dry heave and rush from his room. The smell was weaker, but he could still smell it dripping like slimy bile from his room. But no matter where he paced, or, tried to escape, it still followed him.
“Oh my god!” Lana wretched as she stumbled out of her room, her new pair of jeans wrapped around her ankles. She tripped into the hallway and gagged. She looked at Stuart’s door and pulled up her pants.
Cecy had then come towards the hallway to see if everyone else had noticed the offending odor.
As soon as Lana had her pants on she pounded on Stuart’s door and roared. “What the fuck are you doing?” She sneered. “Are you shitting in there?”
“What?” Cecy asked.
“That smell is coming from here!” Lana screeched. “You don’t have to, but just smell! It’s obviously him.”
Adam came back towards them and he and Cecy locked eyes before staring at Stuart’s door. It was true. The smell was strongest from his door. Cecy turned from the hallway and waved at William.
“Do me a favor?” She asked, beckoning him to leave his precious armchair if not once.
William stood up, a few bones whined and grinded he had been sitting so long. But he strutted into the hallway, and as he came closer to the door, he didn’t notice the horrendous malady.
“Did someone shit their pants?” He sneered, gripping his thick hand over his nose.
“Stuart did!” Lana barked at the door.
William rolled his eyes and looked down at Cecy who was staring intently at Stuart’s door. “What do you want?”
Cecy half smiled. “Kick it down.”
William arched his brow. “Kick it down?”
“Kick it in. Smash it open. No more door there.” Cecy nodded. “Get it?”
“What the hell?” Adam scoffed. “You gonna go kicking in all our doors if we wet our beds?”
“If Zeke is missing I will.” Cecy snapped at him. “That smell is obviously someone’s crap, Adam. Zeke has been missing for three days! Surely he’s had to of wet his pants, or, taken a dump by now. And what does shit do?” She asked, arching her brows for Adam to answer her rhetorical question.
Adam looked away.
“Smell! Shit stinks. Shit happens!” Cecy whipped back at William. “Now knock it down.” She ordered then twisted back around towards her room.
“Really?” Lana asked looking between the two men. “You’re really gonna do this?”
William shrugged. “I believe her.”
“Shit happens…” Adam shook his head. He wanted to laugh at the thought, but at the same time her was flabbergasted by it.
Lana stormed into Cecy‘s room. “And what are you going to do if Zeke is in there?”
Cecy pulled her shard of mirror out from inside her pillow.
Lana’s eyes bugged from her eyes and her tongue caught in her throat she opened her mouth so wide. “What is…fuck are you…?” She stumbled over various different questions, all forcing to get out of her mouth at once.
Cecy held the blade out to her. “What?” She laughed. “You wanna do it?”
