Elle Unleashed: A Gripping Psychological Thriller with a Twist

by Ditter Kellen

  Evan looked disappointed, but he didn’t press the issue. “I understand. Will you come back tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I’ll bring Sarah up to visit after she gets out of school and finishes her homework.”

  Unable to bear the lonely look in Evan’s eyes another minute, Elle turned and fled.

  Once outside, she climbed behind the wheel of Evan’s car and dropped her head back against the seat. Evan was beginning to expect something more from her; she could see it in his eyes.

  What was she going to do? She couldn’t be the wife he needed or hoped her to be. She never would.

  Blowing out a defeated breath, Elle cranked the car and backed out of the parking lot. She would go home and prep for her visit with Ray Dodson, the rapist she’d found on the internet.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was nearly midnight when Elle parked her car on a side street approximately a quarter of a mile from Ray Dodson’s residence. She had driven past his place earlier in the week, relieved to see that he lived at the end of a cul-de-sac. No one resided next to or behind him. Unlike Clyde Arlington’s place.

  Quickly removing the tag from the back of Evan’s vehicle, she dropped it onto the back seat and locked the doors.

  The weight of the gun in her jacket pocket helped to soothe her frayed nerves. Not that she planned on using the pistol; she didn’t. But it was there just in case.

  No, Elle would be ending Ray’s existence with the stainless steel blade she’d deposited in her boot. The same knife she’d killed Clyde Arlington with. The one she’d had to retrieve from Ida Mae’s dishwasher early last week.

  Arriving at Ray Dodson’s, Elle noticed a television on in an interior room of the house.

  She slipped behind a row of dead banana trees and carefully scanned the surrounding area.

  There were two houses a short distance up the street. Both were dark inside, both with burning porch lights.

  Elle turned her attention back to Ray’s house. His front door was red in color and had two long glass panes running down the sides.

  She eased forward a bit, suddenly able to see a pair of long, bare legs resting on the foot of a recliner.

  Inching from behind the banana trees, Elle stepped up onto the porch and unscrewed the light bulb. Except for the slight glow of a streetlight at the edge of the yard, the porch was thrown into darkness.

  This is it, Elle thought, covering her finger with the sleeve of her jacket. She pressed the doorbell.

  The television instantly muted. “Just a minute,” a deep voice called.

  The door opened a moment later. Ray Dodson stood there, wearing a pair of basketball shorts and no shirt.

  He glanced up at the disabled porch light, a confused look on his face, and then met Elle’s gaze once more. “Can I help you?”

  Elle swallowed back her fear and opened her mouth. “My car broke down about a mile back. Do you have a phone I can use?”

  “Sure. Would you like to come inside?”

  With a slight nod and a forced look of relief, Elle stepped over the threshold.

  “One second,” Ray murmured, turning toward the hallway. “I left my cell phone on charge.”

  Elle reached into her pocket, her hand resting on the hilt of her pistol, when her gaze landed on a row of pictures along the wall.

  Ray Dodson starred in most of the images, his arms around a smiling little boy. The feelings Ray held for the child shone from his eyes in obvious adoration.

  Confusion trickled in. Had she made a mistake? Dodson didn’t have the usual predatory look about him. And Elle knew that look intimately.

  He returned a minute later, wearing a shirt and holding a cell phone in his hand. He offered it to her. “Any idea what’s wrong with your car?”

  Elle shook her head, unable to take her gaze from the man’s face.

  She accepted the phone but continued to stare. “I-it does that sometimes.”

  Her attention strayed back to the photographs on the wall.

  Dodson must have noticed her curiosity. What could only be described as pride settled on his face. “That’s my son, Ethan.”

  Something was wrong. Elle could feel it in her gut. She wondered again if she’d made a mistake. “He’s a very handsome boy.”

  “Thank you. I would offer to have a look at your car, but Ethan is sleeping, and I can’t leave him alone.”

  Elle’s stomach dropped. Ray Dodson not only had a child, but that very child was currently asleep somewhere in the house.

  “I’ll just make that call now,” she blurted, stepping back out to the porch. She pulled the door shut behind her.

  Standing outside for a few minutes, Elle reopened the door and handed the man his phone. “Thank you. I have someone coming.”

  “That’s great. You’re welcome to stay here until your help arrives.”

  Elle shook her head. “I appreciate that, but I really should get back to my car.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “I am.” She turned and fled.

  The run back to Evan’s vehicle felt like an eternity to Elle. Her heart raced, and her stomach was on the verge of heaving. She’d almost killed a man with his child sleeping in the house.

  She arrived at the car, not bothering to screw the tag back on, and jumped behind the wheel.

  It took several attempts to get the key into the ignition, so great was the trembling in her hands.

  A cry left her lips—a cry of confusion, of desperation, a cry of relief…

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elle arrived home a few minutes later, her face damp with tears. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.

  Wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand, she let herself inside and went straight to Evan’s office.

  Touching a key on the laptop, she took a seat behind the desk and waited for it to boot up. It came on with a hum, illuminating the keyboard with a soft glow.

  She typed in the words sex offenders near me.

  Scrolling through the names that appeared before her, Elle located Ray Dodson and clicked on it. But the only information she could find said he had been convicted of rape ten years ago.

  Leaving that page, she typed in Ray Dodson arrest record. Several links appeared, nearly all leading to the same place.

  She clicked on Atlanta court records and followed the prompts. There, on the fourth page was none other than Ray Dodson’s image.

  Elle leaned in close to the screen to read, and her anxiety came back full force. Ray had been arrested at nineteen years old for having sex with a minor of fifteen. According to the court records, the two had been secretly seeing each other when the fifteen-year-old became pregnant. Her parents pressed charges, which resulted in Ray’s statutory rape charge.

  She went on to read that Ray had later married the girl, but the stigma of being a sex offender would stay with him for life.

  All the air seemed to leave Elle’s body at once. Though what Ray had done was considered illegal in the state of Georgia, it didn’t make him a child predator in Elle’s eyes. Truth be told, at nineteen years old, Ray had been barely out of his teens, just three and a half years older than the girl he’d had sex with.

  Elle thought about the little boy she’d seen in the pictures in Ray’s home, smiling as he held on to his father’s neck. And Elle had come close to taking the man’s life.

  She switched off the computer and made her way to the bathroom on wooden legs.

  What had she become? It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d been a victim. And now? She wasn’t sure anymore.

  Removing the gun from her jacket pocket, she placed it on the counter along with the knife, stripped out of her clothes, and turned on the shower.

  She stepped under the spray, allowing the dam of emotions churning inside her to break free. They gushed forth from her in the form of hot tears.

  “I’m a killer,” she choked out, the words echoing amidst the steam now surrounding her. “A cold-blooded killer.�
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  Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees. She had taken the lives of nine people— nine people, which put her in the category of a serial killer.

  A cry wrenched from her. It took her a second to realize she rocked back and forth, yet try as she might, she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  Another cry burst forth, and then another, until she found herself wailing uncontrollably. The grief and pain Elle had endured all her life suddenly enveloped her, swallowing her up in its inky darkness.

  Elle had fought for so long to protect Elenore against the monsters who’d hurt her, until there’d been nothing left of herself. She was broken. Probably more so than Elenore.

  It was Elle who had taken her father’s fists, his molestations. Elle had been the one to endure Bill’s torture, humiliation, and torment. She’d taken so many men into her body while forcing Elenore into a place where they couldn’t touch her.

  But she herself was Elenore, wasn’t she? They were the same person. Both a part of the other. One weak, one strong.

  Elle allowed that thought to sink in, to push back the panic that had suddenly caught her in its grasp. She was strong. She was brave. She was Elle.

  Unsure of how long she remained on her knees in that shower, Elle realized the water had turned cold.

  She sat, shivering for a moment longer, and then rose to her feet and turned off the water.

  Her eyes burned from crying, the swollen lids dominating the upper part of her face. She didn’t need a mirror to tell her that; she could feel them throbbing.

  Stepping from the shower, Elle avoided looking at her reflection, instead drying off with a quickness that belied her exhausted state.

  She stumbled from the bathroom and fell into bed, knowing the nightmares would come. They always came…

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Evan looked up when the door to his room slowly opened, surprised to find Ida Mae standing there holding a dish in her hands. He half expected Elenore to enter behind her, but the elderly lady was alone. “Mrs. Gordon? How on earth did you get here?”

  “I drove.” She stepped farther into the room and deposited the dish on his bedside table. “I’m old, boy. I ain’t dead.”

  Evan laughed. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m just surprised to see you is all.”

  She bent and kissed his cheek. “You don’t look any worse for the wear.”

  He chuckled again. “Well, thank you. I think.”

  Ida Mae grinned. “It was a compliment. How are they treatin’ you in this place?”

  “Good as can be expected. Have a seat and tell me some gossip.”

  She lowered her frail frame into the chair by the bed. “I don’t reckon I have much gossip. Just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re eating.”

  His stomach had been growling for the past hour. “The food here isn’t the best in the world. Definitely nothing like yours.”

  “I figured as much. I brought you some leftovers. Ham, yellow rice, green beans, and some cornbread. There’s a piece of chocolate cake in there too.” She nodded toward the dish she’d brought with her.

  Evan sat up straighter in bed and pulled the bedside table over his lap.

  Removing the lid to Ida Mae’s dish, he took in the enormous amount of food piled high within. “You’re an angel, Mrs. Gordon.”

  “Nonsense. It’s nice to have someone to cook for again. Sarah would have eaten the entire cake if I’d let her.”

  Evan smiled at the mention of his daughter. “I’ll be so glad to get out of here and go home. I sure do miss that kid.”

  He picked up the fork Ida Mae had wrapped in a napkin and took a bite of the yellow rice.

  “So good,” he moaned, stabbing a piece of ham next. “Sarah had dinner with you last night?”

  “Yes, and woke up around midnight, asking for another piece of chocolate cake.”

  Evan’s fork stilled. “Oh? She stayed the night, then?”

  Ida Mae nodded. “She’s a good girl, that Sarah.”

  Not wanting to appear suspicious, Evan took a bite of the ham and casually asked, “Elenore had somewhere to go?”

  Mrs. Gordon’s gaze sharpened, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Not that I’m aware of. Why do you ask?”

  Evan wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he shrugged. “Just curious.”

  “Elle looked tired to me,” Ida Mae began. “I told her to go home and get some rest, that I would feed Sarah and keep her for the night.”

  It wasn’t lost on Evan that Ida had referred to Elenore as Elle. But he refrained from commenting on it. “She’s had a lot on her plate since the shooting, taking care of Sarah, and me being in the hospital.”

  Ida Mae’s expression never changed, yet something lingered in her faded blue eyes. “Yes, she does have a lot to deal with. And though she’s no longer subjected to abuse, I’m sure the nightmare of it will stay with her for the rest of her life.”

  Evan laid his fork down. “I know. I’m hoping that once I get out of here and get settled back at home, I can begin taking her to talk with someone.”

  “You mean a shrink?” Ida Mae’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Psychiatrists can be a good thing, Mrs. Gordon. Especially for someone who’s suffered as much as Elenore.”

  Ida shifted in her seat. “Maybe. But sometimes dredging up dark memories can have the opposite effect. Just remember what happened the last time she saw a psychiatrist.”

  Evan’s eyebrows lifted. “She confided in you about that?”

  “Somewhat.” Ida Mae briefly glanced away. “I know she feels that it made things worse for her.”

  Evan wondered how much about Elenore he should confide in the woman who’d helped raise him. He decided to leave it be for now. “Maybe you’re right.”

  When an awkward silence fell, Evan announced, “Elenore’s bringing Sarah by after school today for a visit.”

  “That’s good. I know she’ll be glad to see you.”

  Evan wasn’t sure if Ida Mae referred to Elenore or his daughter. But he decided not to ask. “I’ll be happy to see them both.”

  A spark of pity entered Ida Mae’s eyes. She slowly pushed to her feet. “Well, I better get back if I plan on grabbing groceries before the lunch crowd gets on the road. I swear to Pete that people turn into idiots when they crawl behind the wheel of a car.”

  Evan pushed his bedside table to the side to give Mrs. Gordon the opportunity to kiss him goodbye. And he knew she would. In the past, she’d left more lipstick stains on his cheeks to last a lifetime.

  She meandered over and did that very thing. “Your grandmother would be proud if she could see you now. It’s a shame she never got to meet her great-granddaughter.”

  Evan’s heart squeezed at Ida Mae’s words. “She would have loved Sarah.”

  “Just like she loved you.” Ida Mae kissed him once more and then left the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After walking Sarah to school that morning, Elle spent the next hour scrolling the internet for predators in her area. Only this time, she paid extra attention to the charges, going so far as to search court records for criminal histories.

  She wouldn’t make the same mistake she’d made with Ray Dodson. Ever again.

  It still shocked her how many pedophiles resided so close to Sarah’s residence. Dozens of them.

  What made a person want to harm innocent children? What was it that appealed to them on such a twisted level? It made no sense to Elle. Was it a sickness, she wondered, or an evil spirit they housed inside? Either way, they had to be stopped. And if no one else was capable of sending them to Hell where they belonged, Elle would.

  The thought of Hell disturbed her. Did it truly exist? And if so, would it be her own eternal home for appointing herself judge, jury, and executioner? Was she just as sick and demented as the predators she hunted? Was she truly a serial killer?

  She printed out the page in front of her, then returned to the search bar and
typed in serial killers.

  What she saw there shocked her almost as much as the number of predators she’d previously found.

  According to research by a psychology professor at a university in Virginia, there are likely about thirty active serial killers operating in the United States as of 2015. Since then, that number has grown exponentially.

  Another article read: There have been two hundred twenty thousand unsolved murders in the United States since 1980. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of serial killers responsible for those cases.

  Elle continued to read, learning everything she could about each individual case, along with the differences between her and the known killers running amok in the States. And there were some monumental differences.

  These individuals were monsters who preyed on the innocent, taking lives for the sick, sadistic pleasure of it. Elle, on the other hand, exacted retribution on the evil fiends who hurt others.

  The next article she clicked on was one of the most recent she’d read so far. The inmate who claims to have killed more than ninety women across the United States is now considered to be one of the deadliest serial killer in history, according to the Federal Bureau of Investigations.

  This particular killer, who has been behind bars for the past seven years, told investigators that he was responsible for about ninety killings between 1970 and 2005. The FBI recently announced that federal crime analysts believe all his confessions are credible, and officials have been able to verify fifty of those confessions so far.

  Investigators also provided new information and details about cases in Florida, Arkansas, Kentucky, Nevada, and Louisiana.

  Elle shuddered. So many women and children had been hurt or murdered by the monsters walking among them. Monsters that Elle intended to stop.

  She glanced down at the paper she held, memorizing the man’s face, his address, the charges against him, and his name… Carl Erwin.

  Carl lived within walking distance to not only Sarah’s home but her school as well.

  Plucking up her keys, Elle left the house and climbed into Evan’s car. She plugged Carl’s address into her phone’s GPS and backed out of the drive.