Dreams and Reality Set 3: Cannibal Dreams and Butchered Dreams

by Hadena James

  Some people were annoying. Some situations were annoying. My current situation was annoying and my current nurse was annoying. It wasn’t anything she could control; she seemed to be one of those naturally happy, bubbly women with bright blond hair, beautiful hazel eyes, perfectly straight and white teeth, and a smile that made her head look like it was going to split open. I didn’t envy her looks, she was attractive for a woman in her 20’s and I could appreciate her beauty. I couldn’t stand her exuberant and overwhelmingly happy disposition.

  I kept trying to convince myself she wasn’t that bad. She was nice. She was courteous. She was willing to get me anything I wanted, within reason. I didn’t begrudge people happiness, I thought most people deserved some happiness in their life. It was just that her happiness was leaking all over me and I wasn’t a happy person. I was a contented person. There was a huge difference between the two.

  Happiness required a person to look at the world and see the good. I looked at the world and wondered which city I’d be chasing a serial killer in next. If I hadn’t been working for the SCTU, I would be living in a city, waiting for the next serial killer to show up at my door or slip in through my window.

  Besides true happiness and joy were a little beyond my scope of feelings. I could feel contented, happiness required life altering events. When Nyleena woke up from her coma, I’d be happy. It wouldn’t last more than a few hours, but for a few hours, that life altering event would make me happy.

  I was alone. The nurse, Kelsey the Bubbly, had refused to go grab me Arby’s while she was on duty. Considering that was exactly how she had worded it, I wondered if that meant she would not be as opposed if she was off duty. That had created a conflict, the Jiminy Cricket voice in my brain told me I could not impose on her that way, I didn’t know the woman and she wasn’t my personal assistant, even if she volunteered. The side that was me, and not Jiminy “Nyleena” Cricket, told me it might be interesting to see if she would actually do it and I’d get Arby’s out of it.

  The fact that her voice was back was comforting. It wasn’t prophetic and it wasn’t a sign. I didn’t believe in them either. I had listened to a saved voicemail this morning and it had restarted her voice in my head. This was a good thing, since I felt I was becoming a little too much like Malachi without her.

  “You have a visitor,” Kelsey bounced into the room. I was in a secure area of the hospital. This meant a private room and a security guard at the door. I was positive the security guard was probably bored out of his brains.

  “Is it someone I know?” I asked Kelsey.

  “He says he’s a relative.”

  “Did he give a name?” For a moment, I wondered if it was Virgil. Although, why Virgil would visit me was a mystery. We had no real family ties except for a last name I had changed years ago and a blood-line that I didn’t claim.

  “Aiden Clachan,” Kelsey frowned for the first time since I had been moved into the room.

  “Hm,” I frowned with her. “I suppose he can come in. You might have the security guard on alert in case I decide to kill him or vice-versa.”

  “Um,” she looked at me. “Are you related to the Clachans’ that were recently arrested?”

  “Yes, but I did the arresting. My family bonds are not that strong.” I winked at her and immediately wondered why. Winking was an odd gesture. It indicated flirtation and like. I didn’t flirt and I certainly didn’t like her. So why had I winked? It must have been the Demerol.

  “Ok, I’ll let him know,” the smile was back on her face. Maybe the wink had been a good touch.

  “Aislinn,” Aiden walked into the room.

  “Aiden, what can I do for you?” I didn’t smile at him and I certainly didn’t wink.

  “Can’t this be a social call?” He asked.

  “We’ve never had a social call. As a matter of fact, the last time we spoke, I held a butcher knife to your throat and you stabbed me with a meat fork.” My family has more issues than Reader’s Digest.

  “True, but I deserved the butcher knife to the throat, I shouldn’t have stabbed you with the meat fork.”

  “This conversation is getting tedious, Aiden.”

  “Always so bored by family,” Aiden smiled and sat down. I tried not to sigh, but it escaped anyway. “How’s the hand?”

  “It’s broken, they put stuff in it to hold the bones together. I give it three weeks and I’ll need surgery again. How’s the wife? How many children do you have now with other women?” I asked, needling him to get him to move along. Aiden was my dad’s first cousin, making him my second cousin. He was one of Bernard’s children or grandchildren, I didn’t know, I couldn’t keep them all straight. He had fidelity issues and I had made an announcement at a family reunion once that he had knocked up one of my classmates. That had led to the whole stabbing/butcher knife incident. In his defense, the classmate was of legal age. It didn’t excuse his infidelity though. If you were going to bother getting married, you shouldn’t cheat every time you turned around and saw a hot girl.

  “Ouch,” Aiden grabbed his heart, pretending that I had wounded him. “I guess I deserve that, but I’ve changed my ways.”

  “Yeah, so has Patterson.” I scoffed.

  “That’s actually why I’m here.”

  “You want forgiveness?” I frowned harder.

  “No, I came to talk to you about Patterson. Is catching him really that important? Hasn’t the family been through enough in the last week and a half?”

  “How can I put this? Patterson is a killer and not just your average killer, he literally butchers people. He rips or cuts out organs. I just saw his handiwork with a knife where he castrated a pedophile.” I pursed my lips. “Of course, the pedophile deserved it, but that does not mean it’s legal. We cannot have crazy people running around castrating people and nailing their internal organs to furniture just because it’s fun.”

  “He’s not any crazier than you.”

  “That is neither here nor there,” I commented quickly. “He cannot keep dodging justice.”

  “Putting an eighty-six year old man in jail is justice?”

  “He’s eighty-eight according to Virgil and yes, it is. He slaughtered my grandmother. God only knows how many others he’s killed. It is not like he’s going to Sing-Sing or some other notoriously horrid place. He will go to the Fortress and it’s nice in there, just ask my brother.” I said. For the first time, Aiden showed real emotion. I read it as distress and concern. His brow furrowed, creases formed at the corner of his eyes and mouth, and his cheeks just sort of deflated.

  “How is Eric?”

  “Good, they treat him well inside and he seems fairly happy with his life there.”

  “How are Ella and the kids?”

  “Also good, still crusading for his release. The kids have adjusted well.”

  “If you’re going to go ahead and continue to chase Patterson, there’s something you should know,” Aiden stood. “He’s had years to settle his own scores, he’s settling someone else’s now.”

  “Yeah, mine by the looks of it.”

  “That’s what I was getting at,” Aiden looked at his feet. “You killed Callow, but your dad thought there was another guy involved. If anyone can find this guy, it’s Patterson. He’s,” Aiden paused, searching for the word. “He’s crafty and he’s a very good planner.”

  “And you know this because?” I asked.

  “Granddad told me a lot about him when I was young. He hasn’t really gone after anyone that was directly related to you until he killed that guy a week ago here in town. Now, he has.”

  “You know this to be fact?”

  “No, but he didn’t do it while my granddad was alive, he would have mentioned it. Granddad kept a scrapbook of kills he thought might be Patterson’s. I brought it with me.” Aiden produced a large album from a bag. I hadn’t noticed the bag, the Demerol must be making me sloppy. “I had a hard time getting this in here. I was searched twice and it was nearly confiscated
. I told them if you didn’t see me, I’d give it to them to pass along to you. But you did, so I’ll give it to you personally.”

  “Thanks Aiden, that is very thoughtful.”

  “It’s fucking weird, Aislinn, let’s be honest. I have no idea why my granddad kept the scrapbook and I never saw it until he willed it to me after he died. Which is also weird, because if he wanted you to have it and he did, he shouldn’t have passed it along to me. I was pretty sure you’d be waiting to kill me when I walked in the door.”

  “I considered it, but makeshift weapons are scarce in this room and my Demerol drip is controlled to keep patients from an accidental overdose.” I shrugged.

  Aiden sat the scrapbook on the table in front of me. He waved and walked out. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it. Did I open it? Did I want to know how many kills Bernard thought Patterson had? Did I wait for Malachi and Rollins? Where the hell were Malachi and Rollins? I hadn’t seen them all morning. As Aiden had put it, it was fucking weird. Malachi had a tendency to hover when I was in the hospital. I dialed his cell.

  “I’m busy,” Malachi growled.

  “I want Arby’s and how are you busy? Wait, did Patterson kill someone? Are you bringing me pictures? Who was the victim?”

  “I’ll bring you Arby’s and tell you all about it later,” Malachi hung up. I immediately redialed.

  “Why can’t I tell you I’m busy and you just leave me be?”

  “You did not give me a chance to tell you that my cousin, Aiden, dropped off a scrapbook that his grandfather Bernard had been keeping of suspected Patterson kills.”

  “I’ll look at it when I bring you Arby’s and tell you what I’m busy with. Until then, don’t you look at it.” He hung up again.

  Well, that was just unrealistic. Telling me not to look through it, just made me want to look through it more. I began reaching for the cover.

  “How was your visit?” Kelsey the Bubbly came back into the room.

  “Do you like your family?”

  “I like most of my family,” Kelsey the Bubbly responded.

  “I dislike most of my family, including Aiden who just left. They’re a weird lot, full of cannibals and serial killers; men who cheat on their wives and men who think the sanctimony of marriage is more sacred than the Holy Grail. Spending time with my family is like being trapped in a psychiatric ward, unsure if you’re the patient or everyone else is and you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

  “I know how you feel, families are weird.” Kelsey the Bubbly grabbed an extra pillow and began adjusting my bed. “My family was touched by a tragedy a long time ago and most of them never got over it, but I don’t see it like they do. It was a tragedy, but Kari wouldn’t want us to mourn her loss for the rest of her life. She’d want us to move on, live and love, again.” Kelsey shrugged. “My mom thinks it’s offensive that I can be happy all the time.”

  “I find it offensive.” I told her.

  “Yes, but I’ve been warned that you are grumpy and difficult. The charge nurse actually got a call from someone named Gabriel Henders telling them to find the nicest nurse with the patience of a saint to tend to you. So, they handed me the job. I have no other patients right now because of you. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad, but I’m getting paid overtime for it. And you have been keeping me busy with your call button.”

  “My own nurse and I cannot have Arby’s?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “No, you can have Arby’s, I just can’t go get it for you. What if you need to wipe your butt and can’t because you broke your hand or something weird?” Kelsey the Bubbly giggled at me.

  “You are not wiping my butt.”

  “I’m just saying, that’s the sort of thing I’m supposed to do, not go get Arby’s. You can have something delivered though. I know, hospital food is so controlled and rigid, it isn’t great. Your diet has no restrictions, so you’re free to eat anything.”

  “Someone’s bringing me Arby’s later,” I admitted.

  “Awesome!” Kelsey the Bubbly smiled wider. “Anything else I can get you at the moment?” Somehow, she had fluffed my pillows and added an extra one while talking to me without me noticing or complaining. She was good.

  “What’s your last name?” I asked.

  “Why?” Her smile never faltered, but she did raise her own eyebrow.

  “I’m a US Marshal, I like to know things.”

  “Lassiter,” she told me. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes to check on you again. Call if you need me earlier.”

  I stared as she exited, my mouth open. Few names penetrated my memory, Lassiter was one of them. Actually, all of Callow’s known victims were seared into my brain. Not just their names, but their faces. Occasionally, I wished I’d been his first choice, it would have saved some young girls from being tortured, raped, and murdered. I guessed Kelsey was in her early twenties and that her big sister had been one of Callow’s victims. His last victim to be exact. His next choice had been poor and I’d killed him. This was why I avoided being in Columbia. There were all sorts of ghosts.

  Twenty

  I didn’t have my Kindle. My iPhone was about dead. There weren’t any books or puzzle books in my room. It was a dicey situation. I was being left to my own devices and with my own thoughts. We were entering dangerous territory for a sociopath.

  However, with nothing to do but think, it was hard to not have a few introspective moments. I’d come to the conclusion last time that I was a boring human being. I chased serial killers. I did puzzles. I played out-of-date video games. I read books. I watched TV using a hard drive and computer, so it wasn’t like I was catching the latest episode of whatever sitcom was currently popular and I probably wouldn’t have gotten the jokes anyway. That was the extent of my life. Occasionally, Nyleena dragged me out of my house to do something, but it usually ended badly. My family stopped by more frequently when I was home and I still wasn’t sure I enjoyed that. My co-workers, my cousin and the psychopath that lived down the street from me when we were kids, were the extent of my friends. To make it even more depressing, the same psychopath now lived two streets over from me in my federally protected neighborhood for bad-ass police officers and anyone else in the criminal justice department that worked with serial killers and mass murderers.

  Since I was already aware that I was boring, my mind decided to latch onto another aspect of me. I had nearly ripped the jaw off of a serial killer. That said all sorts of things about me, none of them good. It indicated that I did have some physical strength associated with the psychopathology. I also didn’t care that I had done it. It was more interesting, than horrifying. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that unlike most psychopaths, I did care for other people, even if I didn’t understand them. In theory, sociopaths weren’t supposed to care about others, but I had met many sociopaths that cared about a small core group of people in their lives. These were the people they tried not to use or abuse. Psychopaths tended not to have that core group, they tended to have a single individual. This only applied to the mentality of people with anti-social personality disorder. Borderline personality disorder was a much less controlled form of sociopathology and psychopathology. They weren’t usually functional in society.

  The best I could say was that I was not a Borderline Personality. I wondered what it was like to sympathize with other people or to empathize with other people. Nyleena could do that. She could hold someone’s hand and tell them she understood and they believed her. She cared. She could empathize and sympathize. I was only capable of spouting the dictionary definition of the two emotions. A part of my life was lacking because of this, it was part of the reason I didn’t feel human at times.

  My gaze fell on the scrapbook. I could stop thinking about myself. This was vitally important, as I was starting to feel irritated by thoughts of my screwed up life.

  A little voice in my head, not Nyleena’s, told me to put on gloves. I growled at that voice. I didn’t need
Xavier up there too. There was only room for one, maybe two, if you included my mother, but every girl has their mother’s voice trapped in their heads. Those that didn’t could torture the life-giving woman who carried her for nine agonizing months with a swollen belly and cravings for strange foods like ice cream and onions or peanut butter sandwiches with dirt between the layers of sticky goo and bread.

  I closed my eyes as a memory came to me. My faceless father, sitting at a table, eating ice cream with a plate of tomatoes next to it. It wasn’t onions, but I remembered my father always eating tomatoes with his ice cream. I wasn’t sure if he ever actually cut the tomatoes up and put them on the ice cream, but I felt he did. I had no idea what to do with this memory, so I pushed it back down and stared at the scrapbook. I couldn’t open it without gloves. I didn’t want to page Kelsey the Bubbly, I was sure she needed a break from me. As my dedicated nurse, I wondered what her hours were. The desire to press the button and find out was consuming. Eventually, I stifled it.

  I flipped on the TV and found nothing on. My phone was at 8% battery life. This meant I had just enough for one phone call. However, I didn’t know who to call. My family was in Kansas City. I had family here, but I wasn’t close to any of them, I didn’t even have phone numbers for the majority of them. Malachi’s mom would have helped me out, but she was in protective custody. Nyleena’s mom and dad were both deceased. That left me with one phone number. The digits danced through my mind. Was I really bored enough to make this call? The answer was “yes.”

  “Hello?” The woman on the other end answered.

  “Hey, it’s Aislinn Cain.”

  “Aislinn, it’s been years. What are you doing?” She asked.

  “Well, I’m calling because I’m in town, more accurately, I’m at Boone Hospital, I broke my hand and it needed surgery.”

  “I saw the news yesterday,” her voice grew cold, distant.

  “Yeah, so I’m at the hospital, my phone is dying, I have nothing to do, no books, no puzzles, nothing, nada, zip. I was wondering if you could bring me an iPhone charger and stop by the gift shop and buy one of each of the puzzle books. I will compensate you for your time and the purchases.”