A Family of Violence

by Jon Athan

  Interrupting, Ed strolled onto the porch with two six-packs of cheap beer. He took a swig of his beer and smiled. His day seemed to be rather pleasant. He was imperturbable. He flumped into the seat beside Stanley, then he passed a beer to the teenager and Kat.

  Ed said, “They're a little warm, but some beer is better than none. Take that as a life lesson. Drink it before it gets warmer, though.” He chugged his beer, gulping loudly. He sighed, then he said, “You know how I got these beers? I didn't go over to your big corporate store or any of that bullshit. Some kids, probably a few years older than you, came into our house. They disrespected the land we rightfully claimed. They were fucking in here, right? So, me and Kat watched for a moment, we got off, then we slaughtered the bastards. I tore that boy to bits. His little whore didn't fare much better. Believe that. We claim this place as our home and we expect respect. We did nothing wrong. That's the lesson I'm trying to teach you. We did nothing wrong...”

  Stanley gazed into Ed's dull eyes. The confession of murder did not rattle him. He was no longer bothered by the couple's actions. He solely wondered if he was one of them. 'I did nothing wrong,' he thought, how many times does he say it? He didn't bother to question him about his conscience. He was still trying to bury his own.

  Kat asked, “So, sweetie, you know about our day, what happened during yours? Did you handle those little bastards at school? Or should I expect some company soon?”

  Stanley ran his finger across the rim of the can. He said, “I did what you said. I fought back against those assholes. Well, at least one of them... I stabbed him with my pencil two times. Then, I hit him in the face with a basketball. He's in the emergency room now.”

  Ed chuckled, then he enthusiastically said, “That's my boy. You showed him. You keep showing them, too. Don't let up.”

  Disregarding the praise, Stanley said, “I... I beat that kid at the amusement park. I still don't know if he's alive or dead. I think I killed him. I'm sure he's dead by now... And, I killed my best friend. So, it's all going to come back to me, isn't it? They're going to find out that I killed them soon, aren't they? They're not just going to let it go.”

  Ed leaned forward and said, “Now, listen to me, boy. You didn't do anything wrong. The bastard was fighting you and you fought back. You're not wrong because that piece of shit couldn't handle it. Fuck no!”

  “It's not that, Ed. I know I was right. I feel good about that. I'm just afraid of getting caught. They're not going to understand me. No one understands me. They're going to send me to juvie, then they'll kill me.”

  Kat rubbed Stanley's shoulder and said, “Don't speak like that, sweetie. No one is going to kill you. Hell, no one will even touch you under my watch. Believe me.”

  Ed said, “Don't worry about that nonsense. They'll never be able to link you to the murder, boy. Your friend is ash. A pile of ash in the wind, nothing more. They'll need to vacuum this entire forest to find him.” He opened Stanley's beer and said, “Drink up, son. It'll calm your nerves.”

  Stanley clenched his jaw as he glanced down at the beer. He never tasted alcohol before. With Kat and Ed by his side, he wanted to appear experienced – one of the cool kids. He sipped the beer like a toddler drinking from a sippy cup. His facade was not very effective, though. Like proud parents, Ed and Kat shared a chuckle as they watched the teenager drink his first beer.

  Ed said, “You're part of the family now. If those pigs ever come snooping around, I'll take the fall for you. You just promise you'll keep the bloodline alive. Promise me you'll keep the spirit alive. This... This lifestyle must continue. There aren't many of us left, unfortunately...”

  Stanley could feel the sincerity in the request. He said, “Yeah, I can do that. Thank you.”

  “Anyway, if you're really afraid of getting caught, you should finish the job the first time. You should close the holes before someone else comes and rips them open.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ed huffed, then he said, “You know what it means, boy. Don't just attack them, kill them. Don't give them the opportunity to point you out. If you're going to do it, then do it.” He glanced at the front door and said, “I've got to take a piss and find something to eat. I'll be back, boy.”

  Ed entered the home, searching for a place to urinate and a body to eat. Seizing the opportunity, Kat leaned closer to Stanley. The toothsome woman grinned as she gently caressed the teenager's cheek. She softly massaged the bruise beneath his left eye. The young teenager shuddered from the pain and excitement.

  Kat planted a kiss on his ear, then she sad, “You have to start finishing the job, sweetie. You can beat them up, but that won't end your problems. You have to make sure they never get up again. You have to kill them, put them in the dirt. That's the only way. Finish the job...”

  With his hands over his crotch, Stanley vacantly stared forward and stuttered, “I–I want to, but... I don't know. I don't think I can do it.”

  Kat slid her fingertips down Stanley's arms. She drummed her fingers on his hand, then she placed her hand on his thigh. Stanley winced as he felt her warm hand. The woman's gentle touch made him tremble more than any assault from his bullies. He nervously smiled as he tried to keep his composure.

  Leaning closer to his ear, Kat whispered, “Maybe you need some motivation...”

  From the doorway, Ed asked, “What's going on out here?”

  Stanley stammered, “I–I... I wasn't... It–It...”

  Kat giggled as she gazed into Stanley's eyes – his anxiety made her excited. She said, “Oh, it's nothing, Ed. I was just giving our boy some advice. Trying to help him see the right way, you know?”

  Ed chuckled, then he said, “Sure, sure. I don't think he's ready for you, though. No, I think he should practice on someone else before he moves up to a woman like yourself. You're too wild. You'll make him bust before he's even in. No, he needs time to practice and experiment. Every boy needs time to practice.” He beckoned to Stanley and said, “Come here, son. I've got something special for you.”

  Stanley glanced at Kat, like if he were looking for permission. Kat smirked and nodded – go on. Stanley inhaled deeply, then he walked into the house. Kat followed closely behind. The trio entered the third room in the hall. The troubled teenager stood at the doorway, astonished by his discovery.

  Ed said, “Come here, boy. Practice with her.”

  A young blonde woman laid atop a stained mattress at the other end of the room. Staring into her hollow blue eyes, Stanley could see she was deceased. Judging from the dark bruises on her neck, he believed she was strangled to death. She wore a black t-shirt with a faded bumblebee – the local high school's mascot. Her black leggings were torn at the crotch, revealing her white underwear. Although he suspected she was a fellow student, Stanley couldn't identify her.

  Kat walked to Ed's side, then she beckoned to Stanley. She said, “Come on. Have some fun, sweetie. Don't worry, I won't be jealous. I had some fun with her, too.”

  Stanley nervously smiled as he walked towards the bed. He had a sporadic twitch on his cheek and his fingers trembled. The young woman was stiff like a board, vacantly staring at nothing. Yet, Stanley found himself aroused by the mere sight of her panties. His teeth chattered as he pondered the reasons. He couldn't use teenage hormones to justify his arousal to a murdered teenager. He was depraved and he knew it.

  Stanley asked, “What... What do I do?”

  Ed smirked and responded, “Well, you should start with a kiss. Maybe grope her breasts while you're at it.”

  Stanley leaned closer to the woman's face. He admired her chiseled cheekbones and jawline. With a quivering lip, he planted a kiss on her tender lips, then he leaned back. The kiss was not as bad as he expected. With his left hand, he massaged the victim's chest. They're not bags of sand, he thought with a gentle smile. As he groped the corpse, he planted another kiss – a seed of sick passion. He couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned back. His first kiss, an often special momen
t in life, was shared with a corpse.

  Kat said, “Move lower, sweetie. Go ahead and slip your fingers under her panties. Make her feel good.”

  Stanley slid his fingers down the woman's lean torso, inch-by-inch. He licked his lips as he gazed at her panties. He could only imagine what he would feel underneath. His eyes widened as his fingers slipped beneath her underwear. He smiled as he felt her sparse pubic hair. His breathing became erratic and his body trembled.

  Ed laughed as he pulled Stanley away from the corpse. He said, “Alright, boy, that's enough. That's what I'm talking about, though. You're not ready for a cold, dead body, so you're not ready for a woman like Kat. Not yet. You'll explode before you even take her clothes off.” Kat giggled and shook her head. Ed said, “Don't worry, though. There will be plenty of time to practice. You've got a long life ahead of you.”

  Stanley nodded and stuttered, “O–Okay...”

  Kat said, “Don't be embarrassed about any of this, hun. It's all perfectly natural.”

  Ed said, “I want you to come out with me for a moment. Just you and me, you understand? I know you're in trouble with your parents, but I promise you'll be home before sundown. I need to teach you something before you head home. Sound good to you?”

  Stanley swallowed the lump in his throat, then he said, “Yeah.”

  “Good. I think it's about time I show you something special.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A Father-Son Excursion

  Stanley followed Ed into the woodland. Ed walked a few meters ahead, lunging over puddles and jostling past the dense bushes. He traversed the gloomy forest with ease. As he trailed the murderer, Stanley glanced over his shoulder. The pair had traveled a mere dozen or so meters away from the house, but the home was already obscured from their view. The house was camouflaged by the environment.

  Stanley murmured, “It's the perfect spot...” He hopped as he bumped into Ed. He said, “I'm sorry, I was...”

  Ed held his index finger to his lips – shh. He whispered, “I want you to keep your voice down for a while. You don't have to whisper, but don't shout.” He pointed past a thick shrub and said, “You see this path here? We're going to keep our eyes on it. You understand? I'm going to teach you something very important. Come on.”

  Ed knelt down behind the shrub. He shoved the leaves aside, creating the perfect vantage point. Stanley followed suit. He knelt down beside Ed, then he peered through the bush. The pair watched a desolate, muddy path – a jogging trail. The trail was eerily vacant, abandoned like the remote house. Only a scampering squirrel occasionally ran across the path. Most sensible people avoided the forest on account of the horror stories and urban legends surrounding the woodland. Stanley didn't even know about the path.

  Ed asked, “So, you really like my girl, don't you?” Stanley furrowed his brow and tilted his head, baffled by the question. Ed asked, “You like Kat, right? You think she's a sexy thing, right? You can tell me the truth. Don't be shy.”

  Stanley stared at his murderous mentor. The man did not take his eyes off the path. Ed was dedicated to his vicious profession. Stanley didn't know how to answer the simple questions. He liked Kat, he found her attractive, but he didn't know what she meant to Ed. He thought, are they a couple? Are they married?

  Stanley slowly shook his head and said, “I... I don't know. I mean, no, I guess not...”

  Ed glanced at Stanley with an unwavering deadpan expression. He asked, “Why? Huh? She ain't good enough for you or something?” Stanley opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't utter a word – fear caught his tongue and snipped it. Ed smirked and said, “I'm messing with you, boy. It's a joke. That's all. Loosen up a bit. Start embracing your freedom.”

  Stanley nervously chuckled and nodded – a joke, sure. As he composed himself, he asked, “What are we doing here, Ed? What are we supposed be looking at? I don't get it.”

  “I want to teach you... How do I put this? I want to teach you how to find yourself. Spirituality is important in our lives. We're born as free souls, but we become trapped by society. We become frightened of ourselves. You remember those feelings, right? You felt like you did something wrong when you really did nothing at all. You were just living. It's important to embrace our freedoms. It's important to free our spirits.”

  Stanley asked, “How are you going to teach me that?”

  As he stared at the path, Ed said, “I want to teach you how to kill, boy. You're still too scared to act. You're too scared to be yourself. We're going to change that today.”

  Stanley stared down at himself, mystified. Over the course of three days, he killed a friend, pummeled a child, and stabbed a bully. He was trying his best to embrace his free spirit, but he feared Ed was correct in his analysis. For each one of his actions, he was reluctant to strike. He questioned himself every step of the way. He had the opportunity to kill Mark, he even had the will, but he failed to act.

  Stanley asked, “How? How are you going to teach me out here?” Ed glanced at his student with a furrowed brow. Stanley said, “I trust you, but I'm just nervous and–and scared. I just feel like I need to know everything before I actually move on. I'm not that scared anymore, especially when I'm around you guys, but I'm just not sure about everything... How are you going to teach me to kill?”

  Ed smirked and said, “You'll see, boy, you'll see...”

  'You'll see' was not the answer Stanley sought – it was the answer of a slimy presidential candidate slithering away from a tough question. Yet, he refused to pressure his mentor. Wide-eyed, he gazed at the path and patiently waited for his surprise. A minute quickly turned into five. The pair did not share a word as they concentrated on the jogging trail. A cracking twig, a groaning branch, or a scurrying critter couldn't shatter their contemplation.

  Stanley narrowed his eyes and leaned forward as he stared at the path, focused. He could hear footsteps from afar, drumming on the moist ground. A raven-haired woman jogged down the trail. Her gray tank top and black running shorts fluttered with the wind. Her ponytail bounced with her majestic movements. She was oblivious of her surroundings. Her music was blaring from her headphones, echoing through the woodland.

  Ed grinned as he pulled a serrated knife from his pocket. The knife had a silver handle and a three-inch blade. The knife was puny compared to others, but, in the wrong hands, the blade could cause severe damage. Ed's hands were the worst of all. He spun the tip of the knife on his thumb, cutting into his skin. The small laceration didn't bother him, though. The dripping blood prepared him for the inevitable bloodshed.

  As the woman approached, Ed whispered, “She's right on schedule, boy.”

  ***

  Stanley could put two and two together. A lonesome, clueless woman running in a desolate forest and a savage serial killer with a knife equaled death and violence. The equation was much easier to solve than his high school mathematics. Still, he couldn't help but hesitate. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he could not blurt it out.

  Before he could utter a word, Ed chuckled and hurtled out of the bush. He rushed onto the jogging trail, startling the young woman. The woman gasped and hopped, then she gently giggled. For a moment, she believed the confrontation was nothing but a prank – a joke. As the woman removed her headphones to converse, she noticed the knife in Ed's hand.

  The jogger stepped in reverse and stuttered, “Wha–What are you doing with that?” She glanced around the woods, like if she were searching for a hidden camera crew or a group of obnoxious pranksters. She asked, “What's going on here?”

  Ed smirked and said, “Well, little lady, I reckon you fucked up.”

  Ed grabbed the woman's neck and dragged her off the trail. The jogger flailed her limbs, trying to escape her captor's grip to no avail. Ed placed his sooty hand over her mouth and pulled her towards the bush. The woman's whimpers reverberated through the dreary area, eerie like the cries of a ghost in the mist.

  Ed placed the blade on her throat and sternly sai
d, “Be quiet. Shut your fucking mouth. You can leave this place, alive and well, as long as you follow my directions. You hear me? I only want to teach my boy a few things about the human body. That's all.”

  Ed kicked the woman's leg, forcing her to tumble to the ground. He staggered to his knees, then he placed the woman's head on his lap. The jogger wept as she squirmed and glanced around her surroundings. She could see Stanley peeking at her from around a tree. She lifted her head to call for help, then she stopped. She could feel the pressure of the stainless steel blade on her neck.

  Ed said, “Don't move too much, darling. Another inch and I'll accidentally cut into your jugular. You won't come back from that. An ambulance won't come save you out here.” He glanced up at Stanley and said, “Come out here, boy. Sit over here on her knees to hold her down. Pin her wrists to the ground, too. Make sure she doesn't kick you in your crotch. That will hurt. Believe me.”

  Stanley swallowed the lump in his throat, like swallowing a golf ball. He reluctantly emerged from behind the tree. He stared at the young woman with teary eyes – she couldn't be much older than a college student straight out of high school. She had an entire life waiting for her.

  Yet, the murderous teenager could not show mercy. As the woman slowly shook her head and kicked, Stanley sat on top of her knees. He grabbed both of her wrists and pinned her to the muddy ground, stopping her from swinging.

  Ed tossed a matching serrated blade on the ground beside Stanley. He glared at the jogger and said, “I'm going to move my hand. You understand? If you scream, I'm going to kill you. It would be a waste of energy anyway. No one can hear you out here. Don't waste your life.” As he wrestled to hold both of the captive's arms with one hand, he said, “Take the knife. It's yours. It's good for practicing. It's very good for sawing and stabbing. Go on, take it.”

  Stanley's arm trembled as he grabbed the knife. He stuttered, “Th–Thank you...”

  Ed said, “Now, I'm going to show you a few things with this fine lady here. Pay attention, boy.” He gently slid the knife across her throat, flirting with death. He said, “There are many ways to kill. Your fists, a pencil, a gun... I prefer a knife. It makes you feel powerful because it's not easy and it's not pretty. I find stabbing straight through the jugular works best. Right through this artery right here. She can bleed to death while gargling her own blood. She won't be able to scream for help and she'll die painfully.”