Jon looked at Shawn with disgust and replied,
“I am nothing like you. You killed all of those innocent people for some kind of sick satisfaction inside of you.”
Shawn rolled his eyes looking at his brother and then back at Jon as he said,
“Oh come on Jon. Your brother was a lot like Steven. He killed those kids to fulfill some kind of satisfaction of stopping those voices, did he not? I want to know Jon. If he didn’t pull the trigger on himself…..I wonder if you would’ve helped him cover up the bodies? What would have you done Jonny boy?”
Detective Cratick leaned in close towards Shawn. He could feel his hatred. His hot breath, breathing upon his face as he shook vigorously, gritting his teeth back at the psychopath’s sadistic grin and said,
“You killed those people using my brother you sick freak!”
Shawn was grinning ear to ear. He looked back up at Jon and said,
“There it is. There is that look you had in your eye. Yeah you would’ve helped him cover it up if he didn’t blow his brains all over the driveway. You are no better than me.”
Shawn looked like the devil himself with that toothy grin, staring back at Jon as he said,
“Do you want to know how excited your brother was to kill those children? Do you want to hear how he relished in the idea of calming the voices in his head? Jon do you hear voices sometimes? You will remember the olfactory filaments Jonny boy. Trust me you will remember the iron taste as it swirls in your nostrils and drips on your tongue with the sweetened smell of summer, breathing in the lupines when you bleed out on this very floor.”
Jon shook his head from the memory as Shawn continued talking and said,
“They say the sense of smell is the strongest sense of the human body. It can trigger and uncover even the deepest unconscious thoughts, tucked away in the back of the brain your mind tries to bury. Tell me Jonny boy, when June comes around; do you ever smell the lupines stained in blood Jon? Those purple, red covered lupines, drenched in blood. They come to full bloom in June. Smells like summer doesn’t it?”
Jon remembered the crime scene photos that were laid out in his room. All of those nights going over that gruesome crime scene from fifteen years ago. The thing that was always kept out of the media were the flowers. The lupines that were laid down beside each body, stained in blood. He slowly reached into his coat pocket gripping onto his flask. Unscrewing the top cap with his other hand outstretched, palm out to block the barrel of the gun staring down at his face.
Shawn and Steven looked at Jon cringing. Shawn said,
“Poor, poor Jonny boy. So close. Oh so close. I bet you can still taste the smell of those iron blood flowers. Now you are going to taste it with your very last breath, just like your brother did.”
Jon watched Shawn pass Steven his pistol. Steven took the gun from his brother now shaking. Appalled he looked at his brother and said,
“You’re not going to do it?”
Shawn shook his head as he waved his knife back and forth in front of Jon and said,
“No brother we’re going to do this one together. Once you shoot him, I’ll rip him open and eat his heart. Go ahead.”
Jon looked at Steven for a moment in horror as he raised the gun up towards him. He then quickly threw the flask of whiskey into Steven Willis’s face. Steven cringed backwards and started screaming in horror. The taste of the whiskey and the smell from the alcohol filled his nostrils. All he could think of was his father beating on him, calling him names and screaming at him. Steven went into a catatonic state, his eyes becoming lifeless as he stood still, dropping the gun onto the floor.
Shawn Campbell became enraged as he saw Jon lunge towards the gun onto the ground. Shawn leaped onto Jon as he snatched the gun up off the floor. Shawn lifted his blade that was still in hand and plunged it deep into Jonathon Cratick’s side. Jon yelled in pain as he felt the sharp cold steel slide into his rib cage. He gasped as the blade quickly pulled its way out. Jon rolled over to his side in agony, using the palm of his hand to put pressure on the spouting wound. He pointed the gun upwards. Shawn’s eyes were black with an enraged intensity as Jon whispered his brother’s last words that were echoing throughout his mind for the last fifteen years as he said out loud,
“I got you.”
The cracking sound of the pistol went off. Shawn’s body fell onto the hardwood floor. Thick red liquid pooled out from the exit wound of his head from the final pumps of his heart. The smell of blood fumigated the room as it was soaked into the lupines that were still beneath Steven Willis’s feet. It was sweet with a hint of iron and repugnance that tickled the nose and tongue. The scent brought Jon back to that fateful night at the Campbell’s residence, his first homicide, all those years ago. Jon scrambled upward, clenching his blood pouring wound, the gun still outstretched. Steven Willis snapped out of his catatonic trance like state. Screams filled the room as he kneeled down cradling his brother’s corpse. Jon staggered backwards holding the pistol with smoke still pouring out of the barrel. He pointed the gun towards Steven willing to pull the trigger. Steven didn’t even notice the gun drawn upon him. He kept howling and screaming Shawn’s name, over and over again. Jon then called dispatch for backup.
Chapter 15
Cassandra Parsons pulled up to the Sylas Jenkins Mental Asylum. She turned off the ignition to the vehicle and stared silently at the black iron gates. Their speared black arrow tips pointing skywards like deadly daggers encasing the gloomy gray brick walls. Detective Parsons let out a sigh turning to Detective Cratick and said,
“Are you sure you want to do this Jon? You know you don’t have to. Lord knows after everything you have been through, this is the last place I would ever want to be. Let alone see him again.”
Jon shook his head looking up at the building and said,
“No, it’s okay. I told him I would come.”
Cassandra let out a sigh as she rolled down her automatic window and said,
“Okay.”
She leaned over pressing a black round button on the intercom and said,
“Detective Parsons and Detective Cratick. We have an appointment.”
The black gates opened as Cassandra pulled the jeep into the roundabout. There was a large stone water fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Some patients were wandering around the grounds, all dressed in white. Jon took in his surroundings letting out a sigh as he opened the Jeep door. Detective Parsons stayed in the vehicle giving him a look of reassurance. He made his way up the stone steps and walked into the main area of the psych ward. An older man was waiting for him in a white lab coat. He smiled at Jon and said,
“I do thank you for coming Jon. I know it is difficult given the circumstances, but you understand how important this is.”
Jon nodded as they were walking through the staff security and replied,
“I understand Doctor Hansin. I think I need this as closure for myself.”
Doctor Hansin nodded as they continued down a long corridor. There were black bars covering the windows, all of the rooms were like jail cells, with metal doors and slots for food trays. On the adjacent side of each room was a separate padded room with straps. Doctor Hansin continued as they walked and said,
“Ever since Steven Willis has come to us after trial and had been convicted criminally insane we have been trying to diagnose his Dissociative identity disorder (DID). We have had access to the interrogation tapes and video files when you had Mr. Willis in your custody; before the incident of your apprehension accompanying the death of his brother Shawn Willis A.K.A. Shawn Campbell. Your compiled profile from interviewing him is fascinating to say the least.
In my expert opinion Steven Willis was never with us before now. Back in 2001 I am quite sure it was his brother Shawn Campbell that checked himself in and was the one whom had encounters with your brother Alexander Cratick. Again I do apologize for stirring up old wounds detective.”
Jon nodded as they continued walking down the lon
g stone corridor. Their shoes echoing, as their heels clicked onto the floor. Doctor Kevin Hansin continued talking and said,
“So when Steven Willis was admitted to us; I have been trying to find out if his dissociative identity disorder died with his brother Shawn that day. You see I believe Steven always had DID ever since his brother Shawn convinced him to kill Emily Clark in the woods. I read your detailed incident report pertaining the conversation you had with both of the brothers the day of the shooting. The shameful part is I am afraid you were right, if we had caught Shawn early we may have been able to treat his illness and he might’ve never killed anyone. Unfortunately his brother got into his mind, sickening and twisting him into what he wanted; just like he did to your brother.
Under my professional opinion Shawn Campbell was a psychopath. A lot like Charles Manson. Charismatic and able to manipulate minds that are unwell. The way he talked about psychedelic drugs in your early tapes might suggest he may have possibly been a user. He probably was giving them to his brother Steven which may have helped with manipulation and control. He was a perfect storm to the mentally unstable so to speak. When he got a hold of your brother Alexander and his brother Steven Willis. In other words, Shawn Campbell was definitely in my conclusion the match to the dynamite to all of those horrible murders.
In order for Steven Willis to cope with his horrendous upbringing he probably looked to Shawn Campbell for protection all through their childhood. What I suspect is Shawn started feeding him psychedelics early which messed with the chemical imbalances that were already there in his brain. That is what brought on the sleep walking and killing animals. Once Shawn discovered he had some control over his brother, like any other psychopath it is what they truly crave. He corrupted Steven, killing that first victim Emily Clark together in the woods. The lupines became ritualistic in their murders, ever since they both killed their parents. That is when the DID came into play, separating Steven Willis to Shawn Campbell into two split identities. When Steven Willis became Shawn Campbell, it was his mind protecting himself from himself in a sense. In his mind he did not commit any of those terrible murders. Only his brother Shawn Campbell did. When the stress of that became too much to handle when he was under the identity of Shawn Campbell; his brain would almost just shut down. Like a turn off switch. That is what you saw when he would stand still in a zombie like state.”
Jon stopped walking and held up his hand motioning Doctor Hansin to stop walking and said,
“So he wasn’t a monster……he was made into one by his brother.”
Doctor Hansin solemnly nodded looking down to the ground with a sigh. He then looked up at Jon and said,
“Tragic isn’t it?”
Jon scratched the top of his head, rubbing his thick black hair. Perplexed he asked,
“The courts ruled that Steven Willis was not fit to stand trial. That is why he was sent here to carry out his sentence, indefinitely. There is no chance of him ever getting out. What I want to know is. The other victims that were killed over the years. I could never pin point based on the case evidence if it was his actual brother Shawn Willis (Campbell) or Steven Willis who murdered the remaining victims? Did the real Shawn Campbell just describe those gruesome murders in detail to Steven? Or did Steven Willis actually carry out those murders under his DID identity Shawn Campbell?”
Doctor Hansin replied,
“Well that is why I called you in. Based on all of the files and case studies we have done, I want to determine if in fact Steven Willis, is in his mind now Steven Willis. Maybe you can get that out of him?”
Jon shrugged his shoulders saying,
“I can try.”
Doctor Hansin pointed up at a camera at the end of the call and said,
“There is a two way glass with a phone at the end of the hall. Steven Willis has already been informed you are here to visit and is waiting for you. We are recording of course and we do appreciate you coming today Detective.”
Jon nodded as he walked down the white hallway. He saw Steven sitting, waiting patiently behind the two way glass. His blue eyes sparkled by the sight of Jon as he took a seat in front of the glass. Steven picked up the black corded phone and held it up to his ear. Jon did the same staring back at him. He looked at Steven and said,
“Hello.”
“Hello Jon, how are you these days?”
Jon gave a halfway smile replying,
“As good as can be. I wanted to see how you were holding up?”
Steven shook his head replying,
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. After all we have been through Detective Cratick I thought you would at least give me the courtesy of being honest. I know that is what you and Doctor Hansin are expecting of me.”
Jon leaned back in his chair and said,
“Fair enough.”
Steven smiled and asked,
“You want to know who I am don’t you?”
Jon nodded replying,
“Yes, I think Doctor Hansin has genuine intentions of wanting to help you.”
Steven Willis looked down for a moment as he asked,
“Tell me Jon. Do you still smell lupines in the night summer air? The way the blood smelled with the scent of the flowers when my brother’s blood seeped out of his head onto the hardwood floor? Tell me, did it look similar to your brother Alexander’s fatal gunshot wound? Much like my brothers? Tell me, I can’t seem to recall Jonny boy!”
Jon felt goosebumps rise on his arms as a cold shudder shivered up his spine. The sick familiar feeling stirred in his gut. Startled Jon pushed back on his chair, the steel legs scraped on the floor as he was still pressing the phone to his ear. Steven looked back up at him with those demon like black eyes. He hissed,
“Suddenly it doesn’t seem so black and white does it? No that grey area that we have swarms inside of us all. The potential that we are all capable of acting upon it is what most people are afraid of. What goes on in our deepest darkest corners of our mind is something that we dare not accept. Yet it is always there, just lingering, waiting to come out. All it takes is the right situation, the right fit of anger, the right spark to ignite the flame that we so desperately try to snuff out. You are the only one who can understand. Like I have stated Jon, I have been waiting for you all of my life.”
Jon tried to tell himself in that moment that they weren’t alike. That he didn’t take the life of Steven Willis’s brother, Shawn Campbell; just like Shawn did to him and his brother Alex. Jon stared into those cold black eyes as a memory came flooding back. It was his brother Alexander looking up at his mom, claiming it was his idea to play in the woods that day when they were children. Alex was holding up the plastic toy cap gun. As he pulled the trigger he whispered,
“I got you.”
The End
Profile of the Gemini Serial Killer Page 17