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Deliverance from Evil

Page 18

by Michael Cross


  Vincent responded, “Why not? Look, you only have to take one out. Wait a second.” He looked through the scope, “There, the woman stretching and getting ready for her jog. I think she is perfect, getting ready to run so she can live longer, totally oblivious to the fact that in a few hours she will merely be a cold, dead body in the morgue. That is the ultimate irony, isn’t it?” I protested, “Please, look, the world is filled with really bad people, why not be satisfied with them? Why take lives of innocent people?” Vincent did not become angry, he just coldly looked at me, looked again through the scope, and said, “You know what? I have absolutely no problems with abortion” and asked me to check out the young couple by the swings. I tried to hide my anxiety over what he was asking me to do. However, he handed me the rifle and I looked through the scope – sure enough, by the swing set was a young couple with a small child being pushed by the father and a very pregnant wife at his side; now I understood what he meant by “abortion.” If I did not shoot the jogger he would most certainly kill the mother and her baby. I agonized, trapped between two horrid options, yet if I did not make a choice he most certainly would.

  He asked, “Want me to make the decision? Hand me the gun then.” He reached out but I pulled it out of his reach. I made my choice. I only hoped God would help me in any way he could. I looked at Vincent and said, “observe!” as I crouched down behind a half-dead pine tree and carefully took aim. Vincent said, “The scope is adjusted for the distance but you should probably aim a bit high and to the right to compensate for the gun’s tendency to fire slightly off center. And never forget, the gun is an extension of you.” I looked through the scope at the woman, who appeared to be in her thirties, with long darkish hair in a double pigtail. She was facing our direction but leaning to the side to stretch her stomach muscles. I took careful aim, and said a silent prayer pleading to God to protect the woman I was about to fire a bullet through. I did all the compensating Vincent had suggested, took a deep breath and fired!

  After the blast of the gunshot the next thing I heard was Vincent, “Fantastic job Melanie – you are a pro!” I quickly looked through the scope and saw people panicking below. The woman was sprawled out on the ground as if she had been hit by a car. People were looking in all directions and huddling behind garbage bins, playground equipment, or trees. One young man was crouched over the woman’s body apparently trying to stop the bleeding. Suddenly, I also became aware of frantic screams echoing up the hill. Vincent grabbed my arm and motioned for me to stay low and head to the car. We rushed back, threw the gun in the trunk and within seconds we were headed down to the main road; miraculously nobody was to be seen as we headed away.

  My heart was beating so fast I was afraid I could go into cardiac arrest. And it did not help when Vincent smiled and said, “You know something Melanie? Nevada has the death penalty and if we get pulled over you can bet they will fry us both, especially you, since you are, after all, a cop killer.” I wondered why he was trying to frighten me but realized that he must not be worried in the least or else he be showing some physical reaction – and though the air conditioner was turned off, and it was warm outside, he was not even sweating! In fact he was so calm that as soon as we were on the main highway he was asking where we should pull off to get something to eat!

  I said I was not hungry and sat there staring out the window. He then commented, “You know Melanie, in a lot of movies when someone is shot they fly back like someone punched them. Yet when you killed that woman it was really interesting how just after you pulled the trigger she just collapsed, like she had fainted. One minute working on the perfect body, the next it was lights out. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

  The only thing I could think of was the sick feeling in my stomach when he used the word “killed” since I had sincerely prayed all I had done was wound her. Yet it appeared I had missed and ended her life. I felt horrible. I sat there, silent. “Oh come now Melanie, it’s not like the first time you have killed someone. And look around you… aside from the people in that park right now life goes on unaffected. People are working, heading off to the mountains or coming home. Sure, with that woman, things are entirely different for her now…and if she has friends and family nothing will be the same. Yet don’t you wonder if God feels the way you do, or just looks at life and death of people no more concerned than a kid would be tossing a rock into an ant hill?”

  I was not amused by his pathetic attempts at making himself look like God or his analogies. I turned and growled at him, “Human beings are not ants. And that woman had done nothing to you or me to warrant having her insides blasted all over the ground!” He sped up and his face took on an angry appearance. I realized I was in no position to argue, or to look as if I were angry at him. I had to pull it together and act as cold and despicable as the monster sitting in the driver’s seat. Now I had to put on the show of my life – maybe for my life. So I chuckled and asked, “Not bad shooting for a beginner, was it? And you know what is really weird? The sound of the gun shot would have followed the actual penetration by a couple of seconds. I wonder what she thought as she all of the sudden exploded!” I managed a convincing laugh, in the hope he bought my act.

  Vincent seemed pleased. He laughed, “She must have thought in that split second she stretched her muscles a little too far!” He smiled and shook his head. We didn’t say much until we were well past the border into California. Then he went into his usual monologue about religion, philosophy and how he was such a master of his own destiny amid a world of helpless “cattle.” I tried to play along, and I guess I was pretty convincing since he made a really strange comment that, at the time I did not really comprehend its significance. He said, “You know, Bethany is not all that well. Maybe someday it will be just you and I. Just imagine the carnage we could inflict – just you and I on the ultimate road trip!” He coldly stared at me, “What do you think the point of your lessons have been?” I realized at that moment I was in the ultimate nightmare. If only he was no longer in the picture! I felt so ashamed that I had been even contemplating the idea of intimacy with this, this beast! No he was worse than a beast, if there were indeed such things as demons he was certainly everything such entities would resemble. I had to hide my true feelings though – unless I wanted to wind up like the poor lady in the park.

  I asked, “Shall we try to see if we can drive straight through to home – non-stop? I am willing to help drive.” Vincent seemed puzzled. He said, “I thought you wanted to explore a few places on the way back.” I shook my head, “I guess I am a bit overwhelmed by what I just did in Reno. Maybe I need a little time to adjust.” He asked, “You feel okay about actually killing that woman? A few minutes ago you seemed eager to go on a killing spree” I lied, “Mostly. I know I’ll get used to it. It was fun and all but you know how the brain works.” He reached over and took my hand, “I understand.” I pretended to like the reptilian clutch around my fingers. I replied, “Maybe we should try something more creative for the next victim.” He seemed pleased and curious and asked what I had in mind. I had to be creative, and hope that what I would suggest would believable, but not something I really anticipated would actually occur. I thought back to things I had read about gruesome torture killers and chose a particularly disturbing scenario involving two women and electronic lawn tools. Upon finishing my fake fantasy he exclaimed, “I love it! Tell you what. Your birthday is in November so we’ll see about arranging the perfect birthday present!” I joked, “Maybe two women and a man, just for some variety?” He chuckled and noted that he did not usually take victims in November but for me he would make an exception. I sincerely hoped he would never get the chance to make good on his offer. I also assumed I had two months to figure out some way to avoid being his assistant in indiscriminate murder. Little did I realize how wrong I would be.

  Chapter 12

  It seemed like an eternity of driving before we finally arrived home early the next morning – I had not fallen asleep since Reno t
hough. I was either engaged in conversations my object of revulsion initiated, or lost in thought. I wondered, was there any way to get rid of him? And then there was Bethany. I had come to the realization that her slight schizophrenic state was entirely the result of what Vincent had made of her. She must have taken her minor deviation from reality due to his savagery. The problem for her was that perhaps she had fallen in love with a man that had been everything she had dreamed of, and the only way to maintain that relationship was to first take part in his killings, but when innocent people began to die she withdrew just enough to continue being the perfectly loyal wife, oblivious to what he was doing on some level in her mind. I again wondered if Mark and I would have evolved into this had he lived. I told myself Mark would never have done the things Vincent had done, but...

  Again, what was my future? During the night as we drove through the desert I contemplated Vincent’s apparent dream of taking death on the road. Maybe the only thing protecting me from this nightmare was Bethany. At that realization my connection to her grew, as did my appreciation for her. She was as innocent as I was, at least that is how I saw it, and it was up to us to stick together.

  Just before we arrived at the turnoff to the driveway Vincent stopped the car. He rested his arm across my shoulder and said, “I am proud of you beyond any scope of the imagination.” He looked at me as I struggled to appear pleased just before taking me in an embrace! I struggled to hide any disgust for him at this point. It was then that my nightmare took a turn for the worse. After all this time that I had felt a physical attraction to him, and he had pushed me away, it was only now, now that I hated him, that he started to demonstrate that he was willing to bend his principles!

  I could feel the warmth of his breath as descended upon me and kissed my neck. I wondered what to do…what could get me away from him? I knew what he was capable of – he could tear me apart alive and feed me little by little to the pigs as I watched them devour me until there were no expendable parts left. Yet could I live with myself if I allowed him to consume my body in the figurative sense? I chose physical survival at that moment. He reached his hands underneath my shirt and proceeded to unfasten my bra. I had decided there was nothing left to do, and maybe I could try to at least let my body enjoy what was occurring; yet my mind was racing for an option, even as our lips were locked in one-sided passion. After several minutes I had a thought. At that moment, as he moved his hand down, and I felt him unbuttoning my pants, I started kissing his neck and moved my lips to his ear and whispered, “I have waited for this for so long, but you know what would make this really special?” He pulled away slightly but finished unzipping my pants as he said, “What…what could be better than this?” I responded, seductively, hiding my desperation, “Remember what you said about us both taking part in advanced wilderness survival exercises? Wouldn’t it be absolutely awesome if we were to wait to do this until we can both go out and live like total animals – off the land and each other?”

  Vincent paused for a minute. Then he pulled back and his face took on an inquisitive look, highlighted by the light of dawn coming through the window. He looked away, and then stated, “You know, that would be perfect, wouldn’t it? And if we only did deny ourselves until we can go out and fight to survive we could channel our energies into something far more powerful!” I responded, “Exactly, I mean…I can get undressed right now if you like – but think about what we could do later!” Vincent removed his hand from me and smiled, “You know, I think you have mastered my lessons too well. But yes, that would be something to look forward to. We can start more intense training immediately and make plans for a mission in the forest by early October perhaps!” I pouted and replied, “That long, huh? Well, if you promise to make me an expert in survival by then!” He replied, “That will be no problem. Okay, get your clothes back on!”

  Before Vincent re-started the car he asked that I not tell any of this to Bethany. I promised that it would remain our secret. He thanked me and then asked, “Do you understand that what just happened did not violate any of the principles either of us have agreed to? Remember what Nietzsche said about those who can transcended the rules of common people; they can determine their own rules…their own morality.” Apparently Vincent believed he had the right to re-interpret his own stated principles as he pleased.

  I felt uneasy as we parked and walked into the house. The one good thing, however, was hearing Bethany call my name from the bedroom. I smiled at Vincent as he put some of our things on the floor and pointed towards our room. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned for me to go to her. When I entered the room Bethany said in her sweet voice, “Hello Jennifer, I really missed you two – I thought you would not be back for a couple more days though.” I said I wanted to come back sooner which made her really happy. I told her I was really tired and she moved over as I undressed and crawled under the sheets. Without saying any words I put my arm around her and looked in her eyes. She looked back, a little tear forming, and I pulled her towards me and held her tightly. She asked, “Is everything okay?” to which I replied, “It’s always okay when I am with you.” I fell asleep in her embrace shortly afterwards.

  When I woke up the sun was shining brightly through the window. I had no idea how many hours had passed, but I figured that perhaps it was early afternoon. Yet when I focused my eyes on the clock it was only 9:30am. I got up and greeted Bethany as she sat at the table sewing something. She asked me to whisper so as not to wake Vincent who she thought would probably sleep until three or four. When she mentioned his name it reminded me of my feelings a few hours earlier. Perhaps due to my short rest, or maybe the daylight, I felt less threatened. Yet I still had anxiety over how I should handle this whole new development.

  Bethany was so wonderful to me, cared for me and wanted nothing more than to make me happy. I knew if I tried to leave it would devastate her. And Vincent was quite, well, evil by any definition – but most people would say the same thing about me if they knew what I had done so often in my life. I wondered if maybe we actually deserved each other. Maybe I should just try to make the best of the situation – besides, there was hope I could at least convince Vincent to select his victims from the teaming masses of truly nasty people out there. And yet the idea of being his concubine turned my stomach.

  Bethany handed me a roll as I sat there deep in thought. I noticed a half full bottle of whisky next to the toaster and asked Bethany to please hand it to me. She asked if I was sure and I said I was. Who knows, as I sat there and finished off cigarette after cigarette, could I be sub-consciously trying to shorten my life? At that moment I asked Bethany if she was up to our ritual. She again asked if I was sure. I extended my arm and said, “Absolutely!”

  I took the initiative completely. I got up, grabbed the large flask sitting in the closet and in a hushed voice said, “Get everything else and meet me in the bedroom!” She followed my instructions but said, “We don’t need such a large container dearest.” I handed it to her, “Oh come on. Use it anyway.” I then removed my t-shirt and relaxed on the bed while extending my right arm.

  Today the needle seemed to really hurt more than usual – probably due to my being so tired as well as tense. When everything was set up, and I looked on the floor as the red fluid started to trickle into the container, I asked Bethany, “Can you crawl in bed and hold me like you did when I came home?” For the next few minutes we just laid there, quiet, enjoying each other’s warmth. It felt so nice to be held by someone who I felt safe and secure with. Then she put her head on my chest and relaxed for a minute. Soon afterwards she raised up and put her finger on my chin and said, “We need to take the needle out now.”

  When she tried to get up I clenched her to me with my left arm. To this day I have no idea what was going through my mind, but I wanted her to leave the tube in my arm. In fact, I told her, “Just relax and I will tell you when I am ready for you to take it out.” Perhaps it was due to my being able to focus on something other than th
e events of the last three days. Maybe I wanted to play with danger – the ultimate adrenaline rush to see how much I could lose and still live. Then again, maybe I harboured a death wish and this could solve all my problems. I had no idea but within a few more minutes Bethany, alarm in her voice, demanded, “I have to take the needle out immediately!” I continued to hold her, although I was feeling weak all of the sudden, “Just a little longer okay?” She said she would but looked worried. I held her tightly against me and asked, “What would you like us to do the next few days?” She sighed, “I’ve been really tired.” I groaned a little, “Yeah, me too. Maybe we can just cuddle all day while Vincent sleeps.”

  Bethany stopped protesting for a few minutes but then removed my arm and stood up, “I insist we stop now!” I shook my head, “Just a little more.” I tried to twist my head around to see how much blood had been collected. I remembered the last time the flask had been used it had filled up three quarters of the flask. When I tried to look I felt really dizzy but managed to notice that I had surpassed that level. In fact, it would soon start overflowing.

  She rushed to the other side of the bed as she asked, “How much is in there?” When she looked she gasped, “Oh my God!” She quickly removed the needle. She nervously fumbled through her box to retrieve a bandage and put it on my wound. As she did this I started feeling really strange. I tried to move my fingers and toes but it required a lot of effort and I only feel a tingling sensation in them, like when your hand goes to sleep. I was also having trouble focusing my eyes and I felt really cold, even though Bethany quickly wrapped covers around me and held me tight. I felt as if I were drugged. I was faint and dizzy. Bethany was noticeably stressed! She asked, “Why did you do that?” I weakly replied, “What?” In a broken voice she pleaded, “Why did you make me leave it in for so long?” What took place in the next few hours I have no recollection of, since I passed out after she asked her question. Yet even in the state I had placed myself in I could not help but wake up to the roaring, contentious voice of Vincent coming from the kitchen.

 

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