Sweet Oblivion

by Rhiana Ramsey

  ‘He beat me so badly I couldn’t help you. The basement was off limits to me – if I attempted to go down there he would hurt me so badly. I hope one day you’ll forgive me my darling precious daughter.’

  They held each other for a while, Louise standing in the bloody, tepid water, reaching up to wrap her arms around her mother’s neck and her mother embracing her against her bosom. Eventually her mother broke away and cradled Louise’s face in her hands.

  ‘Here’s what we’re going to do my darling. You are never, never going to speak of this. You are going to put it out of your mind and pretend it was all a bad dream. Do you understand?’

  Louise was confused, but she nodded in agreement anyway because she knew that’s what she had to do to please her mother.

  ‘I have his blood all over me, I removed the weapon you used to kill him from his eye and attacked him again with it, so it’ll look like I caused all his injuries. We will clean you up, wipe all evidence off of you and we’ll make it look like I did this, ok?’

  Louise couldn’t speak, she was so afraid and bewildered. She understood what her mother was saying but she couldn’t respond. Her mother was going to take the blame for killing that monster and Louise didn’t know why. But she was happy to know she wasn’t in trouble and that she wouldn’t be punished for what she had done.

  Once Louise was clean her mother carefully plucked her from the sink and then followed her upstairs to the bedroom she sometimes shared with her sister. It was a pretty room with pink walls and yellow stars; the colour of the walls was similar to the colour of the water in the sink and Louise liked it – it reminded her of his blood and what she had done to him..

  They found some fresh clothes for Louise and once she was dressed her mother crouched down to her level and said: ‘Do you remember what I said Louise? You must never, ever breathe a word about what you did. If anyone asks you, you will either say nothing or say that I did it, ok? Mummy did it. Mummy murdered daddy. You understand?’

  ‘I understand mummy,’ Louise had replied.

  ‘That’s my beautiful girl.’ Her mother had stroked her face and smiled at her, a sad, pitiful smile. ‘You will not be punished for this Louise, mummy will. It’s what mummy deserves for not protecting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ her mother began crying again. After a few minutes she pulled herself together, and dabbed her eyes with the edge of her blouse.

  ‘I’m going to call the police now Louise. They will be here soon. They will arrest me and take me away. I may never see you or Michelle again, but you have to understand, I love you and I will always be thinking of you. You are my special, brave girl and I will love you always, you know that Louise?’

  Louise nodded again and reached out for her mother, practically climbing up her body so she could be in her arms.

  ‘Louise, careful the blood.’ But it was too late, blood had already transferred from her mother onto Louise’s clean clothes. Not that it mattered now, the police would know it was simply transferral from their embrace.

  It hadn’t taken the police long to arrive after her mother had placed the telephone call, the sound of their sirens and screeching tyres frightening Louise and further adding to her trauma. She hadn’t wanted to be taken from her mother and had only released her grip on her mother’s legs when she heard Michelle shouting for her.

  ‘Remember Louise. You never speak of this, you must forget it. It’s just a bad dream.’ Her mother had bent down and whispered in her ear just before Louise ran to Michelle.

  She had never forgotten her mother’s words; she had never said anything about her daddy, what he used to do and the other men he used to sell her out to. She never told anyone that when daddy was supposedly taking her away to stay with a relative, he actually only took her downstairs to the basement where he could keep her locked up and use her at his leisure. She had promised her mother she would never speak of it and it was a promise she would always keep. Her secret was a heavy burden which Louise had struggled to carry. Luckily, she knew she could rely on Mina.

  Chapter XXXIV

  Louise didn’t know where she was going, she was not consciously thinking of her destination; she was just driving. She’d been on the move for hours, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, her hair flailing around her head and across her face as the wind from the open car windows howled through the vehicle.

  Louise was looking at the road ahead but she could not see it; she couldn’t see anything beyond the torrent of memories tumbling through her brain, each one more painful than its predecessor. She remembered now. She remembered everything and the pain ripped through her like a circular saw through timber.

  Since leaving her sister’s house she had simply driven round and round through the evening, into the night and now into the early hours of the morning, thinking about what her sister had said, only stopping to refuel when the brightness of the fuel light on the dashboard had caught her eye, cutting through her reverie and bringing her momentarily back to the present.

  Each time she thought about the conversation she’d had with Michelle, another memory was triggered, and then another and another. She wished she could slow the memories down but they came at her in an unrelenting onslaught as her mind finally gave up trying to protect her from the painful truth.

  She felt as if she was watching scenes from a despicable horror movie as the images played behind her eyes, and she had a strange sense of detachment from her body; she felt as if she was no longer in charge of it and had no influence over its actions.

  Louise was scared, she was angry and she was hurt. She was scared of what her recollections would mean for her future; how could she go back to her normal life now? She was angry at what those men had done to her and the fact that no one had protected her, and she was hurt that someone could do those things to her, a small, innocent child who was held captive in a basement and abused by men who paid her father for the privilege. She couldn’t fathom how anyone could do that to a young girl, how they could do it to her, and she felt the pain she had suffered as a child manifest afresh.

  She had recognized some of the faces in her memories; she’d recognized the old man with the crooked teeth she’d seen at the bus stop almost two weeks ago - he’d been one of the men that had abused her. The man she’d seen in her flat was a depiction of her father and the woman she’d seen at the window, looking at her with such sad, sorrowful eyes, was her mother. She realized now that she had been slowly falling apart, her mind gradually leaking repressed memories, trying to test her mental robustness, the memories manifesting as twisted hallucinations.

  Louise let out a loud cry as she remembered the kitten, Sunshine, and what that bastard had done to it. In the small time she had with that kitten, she had fallen in love with it and the cat had reciprocated, nuzzling her and purring. He wouldn’t even allow her to bond with an animal, totally depriving her of any form of emotional connection with another creature, keeping her emotionally isolated and withdrawn. The cat had helped her though, as it had given her the courage to fight.

  She recollected crafting the tool she had eventually used to kill him and now instead of sobbing she cackled gleefully as that day came back to her. She recalled the way his body had felt when it seized up in agony; she remembered the sound his eye had made when she had popped it in his skull and she remembered the sound of his dying breaths. Her hand had been raw for days afterwards but no one had known how she had hurt herself. They’d just smiled at her and tended to her wounds, prattling on, totally oblivious to the fact that she was a killer child.

  That day her mother had made her promise she would never speak the truth, never tell the secret they shared – even Michelle had not known the truth. Her mother had taken the blame for Louise’s actions, seeing it as a small penance for the years of abuse from which she had failed to protect Louise.

  It was true that her father had been an evil, vindictive, violent man and Louise’s mother most probably had been afraid he would k
ill her and Michelle if they tried to help, but Louise still couldn’t forgive her for allowing that monster to do what he had done to her. Had she known that he sold her to other men too?

  Louise was horrified by her recollections, disgusted by the conduct of those that should have protected her, but she was equally sickened by some of the memories of her own actions. As much as she was glad she had murdered her vile father, she was shocked that she had been able to commit such a brutal crime. She also remembered now why she had fallen out with her foster parents all those years ago and the thought of what she had done made her want to vomit.

  She remembered how she had stolen a puppy from outside a shop where it had been tied up, waiting patiently for its owner to come back out, quickly unfastening the dog’s lead and running with it back to her foster home. The puppy had been full of life, bouncing around her feet, its tongue playfully licking her legs.

  She had taken the animal into the garden shed, stood it on a garden chair and then tied rope around each of its limbs. She’d then tied the rope to the four legs of the chair. At first the puppy had simply licked her and nibbled gently at the rope, enjoying the attention and the game, but then Louise had yanked the ropes hard, pulling the poor animal’s legs apart, causing it to fall onto the seat on its stomach, legs painfully pulled in four directions.

  The puppy had yelped and squealed in pain so Louise had taken more rope to tie around its muzzle, effectively quieting the animal. It lay there, prone, helpless, whimpering, its eyes wide and full of fear.

  Louise had then taken hold of her foster father’s shears and placed the puppy’s tail between the blades. She’d then violently closed the blades, severing the animal’s tail, reducing it to a bloody stump. The dog had wriggled violently, straining to break free of the ligatures that bound it and Louise had just watched, mesmerized by the blood.

  She’d then taken hold of a hacksaw, intending to remove the dog’s head, but before she had had a chance to make the first cut, the shed door had been pulled open by her foster mother, alerted by the dog’s yelps, and the hacksaw had been violently pulled from her hand. Her foster mother had slapped Louise hard around the face and ordered her to get out of the shed.

  Louise remembered being shocked by the slap, her foster mother had never resorted to any form of physical violence, she was such a gentle woman, and then she remembered staring at the woman, her eyes full of hate as it dawned on her that the woman would not let her finish her task; she needed to kill the puppy.

  She had run out of the shed and into her bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag and begun filling it with clothing. Her foster mother had eventually followed her into the bedroom and they had rowed heatedly. Louise had called her foster mother all the names under the sun and her foster mother had called her evil and said she needed to seek professional help.

  Louise had pushed past her, duffle bag slung over her shoulder and she had run into the kitchen, where she had turned the gas on. Her foster mother had pleaded with her to turn the gas off, to calm down, they needed to talk. Louise had simply looked at her and pulled a lighter out of her pocket, threatening to burn the place down. Eventually her foster mother had given up trying to reason with Louise and had run out of the house, jumped into her car and driven off. If Louise was going to blow the house up, she was not going to be around to be caught up in the explosion.

  Shortly afterwards, Louise had also left the house. She had left the gas on but she had decided not to ignite it – she didn’t really want to die.

  That had been the last time they had spoken. She’d never seen either of her foster parents again nor had she thought about the incident; she didn’t know what had happened to the puppy.

  Louise realized now, in this moment of clarity as she was driving to an unknown destination, that there was something very wrong with her.

  As startling and horrifying as all the revelations were to her, this realization was the most shocking for her - the knowledge of what she had become. It had taken her some time to connect the dots, to piece it all together, but now she knew. She was a killer. She was an evil, sadistic killer.

  She was Mina.

  Guilt washed over her, her body jolting with adrenaline, as she saw the faces of the men Mina had murdered – David Saunders, Mark Faversham, Daniel Taylor, Derek Cooper – all dead because of her, killed by her hands. Louise felt afraid, then powerful, disgusted then proud, ashamed then delighted, a whole gamut of emotions swirling through her.

  She was also perplexed. How could she have seen the photos of the victims on the news and not then realized that she was responsible? How could her memory be that repressed? How could Mina take control of her so completely? Who the fuck was she?

  She was the young girl that had been molested and abused for years, emotionally starved and deprived of love, transformed into a mere shell; the young girl who had developed a secondary, stronger, sinister personality to take over when Louise could no longer cope. She began to sob at the wheel, her vision becoming blurry.

  ‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…’ she said repeatedly to herself as her mind fell apart and she broke down. ‘I can’t take anymore of this.’

  She pummelled her forehead with her left hand and screamed as she did so, the years of agony and torment audible in her cries.

  ‘I am Louise Jackson, I am Louise Adams, I am Mina, I am Mina, Mina, Mina...’

  Her voice faded out and her tears dried as Louise finally gave up and disappeared within her own mind. Mina was in charge now and she would take care of Louise. Just like she always had.

  ************************************************

  It was six-fifteen in the morning and the team was now only ten minutes away from Louise Jackson’s flat. They’d convened at the police station at five am to discuss this morning’s actions. Robert, Tony, Louise and Greg were travelling in an unmarked car to the residence, following behind a marked police carrier which contained a team of burly Operational Support Unit officers, or OSU, who would be making the entry into the premises and checking it was secure before Robert and his team went in.

  They would also assist in the searching, allowing the investigative officers more time to look at the surroundings and the items recovered. The rest of the team, including the officers from Force Headquarters, were at the station on standby.

  Elizabeth was very quiet in the car, not only because she was extremely tired having stayed up all night, but also because she felt quite nauseous knowing she had been drinking and socializing with a killer. She had always believed she would know when she was in the company of a vicious murderer, that something about them would give it away. She certainly hadn’t suspected Louise at all that night.

  Elizabeth felt sick. She’d shared details of her life with her and had discussed the case. Had that been Louise’s plan all along? To get Elizabeth to reveal what she knew? Elizabeth cracked the car window open a little and raised her face into the draft. As if sensing her discomfort, Tony reached a hand across the back seat and touched her gently on the thigh. She turned and smiled at him appreciatively, grateful for the contact.

  ‘Right, this is it,’ Greg said as he pulled the car to the curb, parking behind the marked carrier.

  The block of flats looked well maintained, housing eight stories and perimetered by trimmed hedgerows. The officers disembarked the vehicle and made their way through the front gate, single file as they approached the front door, the OSU officers following up the rear. There was a panel of buzzers for the various flats to the left of the door. Louise lived in flat 3 on the ground floor; Robert pressed the buzzer for flat 10. No answer. He pressed the buzzer for flat 7. After a short pause a weary voice said:

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘The police. Let us in please,’ Robert replied.

  The occupant of flat 7 needed no further explanation; the lock on the door buzzed as the occupant granted them entry into the block.

  Now the OSU officers went into the lead, armed with an enforcer to break
Louise’s front door down. They all moved swiftly and quietly down the corridor until they were stood outside Flat 3. Robert nodded to the first OSU officer that they were ready; everyone was pumped and ready for action.

  The OSU officer swung the enforcer and slammed it into the front door, breaking the lock with one blow and sending the door flying back on its hinges. He shouted: ‘Police!’ as his colleagues rapidly filed past him into the flat and spread out through the various rooms.

  The investigative team followed the OSU into the flat, their hearts sinking as they heard the OSU officers shouting ‘Clear!’ as they swept through each room looking for the suspect.

  Louise was not at home.

  Then the smell hit them, a thick, pervasive odour, akin to perishing food.

  ‘What the fuck is that?’ Robert exclaimed. ‘Jesus, let’s get some fucking windows open.’

  Everyone gagged at the smell, it was so pungent.

  ‘Can anyone tell where that smell is coming from?’ Robert asked.

  ‘We’ll start searching the place Guv,’ the sergeant in charge of the OSU team said. ‘Lads! Three of you to start in the living room, three in the kitchen, one of you to maintain the search record book.’ The officers set about their task, grateful for the gusts of fresh air wafting into the flat through the open windows, dissipating the smell somewhat.

  ‘Fuck it!’ Robert exclaimed, turning to his team. ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘I’ll go ask the neighbours,’ Elizabeth said, turning on her heel, only too happy to have an excuse to leave the flat and the malodorous, stagnant air within it.

  ‘Ok, and Elizabeth. Good work. I know you worked out the identity of the killer before the fingerprints came back. Tony told me.’

  Elizabeth blushed then said: ‘Not quick enough though unfortunately. I still ended up having drinks with the woman.’

  Before Robert could respond, Elizabeth walked out of the flat to see if she could rouse any of the neighbours who might know where Louise was, or when she had left. Robert watched her leave; he understood how she felt.