A Melancholic Black Series (Book 1): The Red Door

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A Melancholic Black Series (Book 1): The Red Door Page 6

by Scriber, R. J.


  She’s kissing him with more passion than she has ever kissed Rodney. Not out of wanting this younger man, but because the thought of knowing she is going to kill this poor soul makes her not want to think of it. So she jams her tongue down her throat and whispers, “I want you so fucking badly!” What she’s really saying is, “Can you be the one to save me.”

  She’s gone off the deep end and she was never a strong swimmer. Too late, Nell. Too late, she thinks to herself.

  “Well you got me. Show me what you want to do with me… slut!” Mr. College bravely utters.

  Nell smiles as she grabs a knife and lunges at him. For a big man, he surprisingly jumps out of the way pretty quickly. “What the fuck?!”

  “I’m sorry—so sorry!” she pants. “I have no other choice—you have to believe me. I have to. I have to!”

  She lunges again, this time Mr. College catches her wrist and rips the knife from her grip. He grabs her by the back of the neck and throws her across the island, as she crashes to the floor, landing hard on the right side of her hip.

  Pure shock and hatred exit his eyes. He’s gone, mentally. Now he’s fighting for his life and he has no plans on stopping until Nell is dead.

  He grabs her by the hair and lifts her straight off her feet. He cocks his right arm back and swings, however the impact never hits Nell, who is bracing.

  Instead, blood sprays all over Nell’s face, and complete horror plastered on his. Amberly stands behind him, holding his severed arm. Her eyes are lit with undefiled hatred and wolfish hunger.

  No one touches Nell.

  He turns and gasps, “Oh… my… God!’

  Amberly tackles the man against the refrigerator, digging her fingers straight in to his left pectoral, slowly prying open his chest cavity. He screams in immense pain as Amberly pierces his lungs and rips apart his diaphragm, chomping at his aorta as the warm blood sprays like a thick mist, coating her face.

  There’s nothing he can do.

  All his size and strength mean nothing when going up against an unearthly impish force of rage. He’s limited, she isn’t.

  Nell stands up, panting, scared of how close she came to failing. She could’ve been killed. She walks to Amberly and watches her daughter devour the dead man from the inside out.

  Amberly latches on to the heart and wrenches it out before wrapping her red-stained teeth around it. She grinds it slowly between her pallet and tongue before swallowing it.

  This is the hardest part for Nell. Not Mr. College being eaten before her, but his heart. It is now that she realizes that, she too, has had her heart devoured by Amberly.

  XIII

  November 28th.

  5:30PM.

  Six days later.

  “What are you waiting for?” Rodney asks, as the words slowly slip through his parched and crusty lips. “Huh? Just, what the hell are you waiting for?” he asks again. “…I just don’t care anymore,” he admits, defeated, nearly at Death’s door.

  On the other side of the room Amberly finishes up yet another meal: an older man, overweight, with a tool belt. A plumber. An unsuspecting chap who just showed up to do a job. Now he’s dead. Just more fodder thrown in to the avaricious auger that likes to be called Amberly. She pays Rodney no mind. All this time, she’s held back her hunger for Nell.

  “Let me go! Kill me! Just do something!” he hollers.

  “Oh, quiet down. Quit yelling at your daughter,” Nell shouts back. “Stop being such a damn grump!”

  She walks down the stairs, her heels clacking against every step; dolled up again. Slim-fitting red dress, with a slit up along the leg. Stunning. A little overkill, but stunning regardless. For the last six days, between going out and calling the plumber, Nell has aided in the deaths of six more men.

  Old and young, doesn’t matter. Amberly was like a rabid dog, but instead of shots or being put down, she just keeps getting fed. Amberly’s appetite is expanding. She’s going to have to start feeding her twice as much.

  “Please… you need to stop this,” begs Rodney in a last-ditch effort. Hard to think that Nell would listen now. It’s been a while since she has passed the point of no return. There is no going back, only forward. Deeper into that rabbit hole.

  “Rodney. Who’s being naive now? You have to know by now that I won’t stop,” she responds. “You’re not looking so good, by the way.”

  “You’re killing me, Nell.”

  “You’re doing that yourself. I give you food and drinks. You choose to not indulge.”

  “I need help…”

  “Are you going to change your mind, then?” Nell asks.

  He doesn’t answer and he doesn’t need to. Just like she won’t stop killing in the name of her daughter, he’s never going to agree to support this new lifestyle.

  DING-DONG! The doorbell rings. Nell is surprised. An unscheduled guest. This is his last shot so Rodney yells, “Help—”

  Before he can finish, Nell rushes to him, trying to cover his mouth, but inadvertently stumbles in her heels and slams her knee against Rodney’s head. It bounces back against the beam, knocking him unconscious.

  “Shit!” Nell exclaims.

  “Rodney, bud? It’s Mack,” Rodney’s boss says as he opens the front door, walking inside the smelly, unkempt house. “You here, man?”

  The basement door closes and Nell rushes in the living room, after running as fast as she can back upstairs, startling Mack. “Hey!” she says out of breath and excited.

  “Hey, Nell,” he responds back ambiguously. “Is Rod home?”

  He cannot help but stare at Nell’s body in the red dress. Something she forgot she was even wearing until just now. She also notices his eyes surveying her body.

  Hopefully, this works. “No… no, he’s not. He ran out for errands,” she lies.

  “Errands?”

  “Yes.”

  “See, it’s just a little weird—what is that God-forsaken smell?” he asks.

  “We’re growing mushrooms down in the basement.”

  “Mushrooms…?”

  “Yes,” not even knowing what she’s saying. Of all the lies she’s been spreading about the stench of death, mushrooms is all she can think of. When she was younger she lived near a factory that grew mushrooms and it constantly smelled of manure. So, why not? To her it made sense. “Organic, not drugs!” she nervously chuckles.

  “O-kay. Listen, I haven’t seen or heard from Rodney in over three weeks,” Mack says as he nosily looks around the living room. “Has he forgotten that he has a career?” Mack asks.

  “No, he knows. Just, with Amberly’s death… it’s hit him kind of hard. He’s just been lounging around… thinking.”

  “Thinking? Hey, you don’t mind if I get a drink, do you?” he asks, not falling for one word Nell is spewing. He doesn’t know the extent of Nell’s lies, but wants to investigate.

  “Well—”

  He doesn’t wait for Nell to finish, he helps himself, walking into the kitchen. Nell runs after him. She grabs his shoulders, and spins him around, locking lips. It’s worked so far, and if something isn’t broke, then there’s absolutely no need to fix it.

  “Nell!” Mack shockingly shouts. “What the fuck?”

  “Oh, shut up and kiss me,” she orders.

  “I can’t believe this,” he admits before returning the passion, lifting her up by her ass and placing her on the kitchen counter. He fidgets with his belt buckle. “I’ve wanted this for so long. How the fuck does a guy like Rodney get you?! Never understood that shit.”

  “Just get it out.”

  “Who knew you were both swingers.”

  Nell grabs a hold of Mack’s hands, stopping him. “Swingers?”

  “Yeah. Dannalee and Rodney. But, don’t worry, I don’t judge. I think it’s awesome.”

  “Who… who is Dannalee?”

  “Like you don’t know,” Mack smiles as he realizes that Nell, in fact, does not know. “Shit. Did I just blow his spot?” he laughs.
<
br />   “Yes. I believe you did.”

  “Whatever. It’s no biggie. Spite him, fuck me,” he suggests.

  “How long?” Nell asks. “With Dannalee.”

  “Four or five months.”

  A single tear streams down Nell’s cheek. A revelation. Damn, Rodney! Damn him! is what she is screaming inside her head. There’s going to be no more forgiveness for what she’s just learned. Something Amberly has known all along.

  Anyone could have her body, but her heart and soul belonged to Rodney. And only ever Rodney. It’s just a damn shame to now realize that it’s been one-sided.

  “HELP ME!” Rodney screams from the basement. He’s woken.

  Mack turns his attention towards the basement door, when Nell grabs a steak knife. She swings at Mack who turns around just in time to dodge it. He cold-cocks Nell in the chin, knocking her down off the counter and onto her face.

  He grabs the steak knife and heads to the basement. He doesn’t know what awaits him, but he’s a man. He’s as tough as they get. He’s never backed down from a fight and most times, he started them. But, again… he really doesn’t know what awaits him.

  Mack gets to the bottom step and holds up the knife, his hands shaking from intense adrenaline. He’s looking to be a hero. “Rodney?” he whispers.

  “Mack? Mack! Help me, please!” Rodney yells through the darkness as Mack moves closer to see Rodney tied up.

  “Rod! What the shit…” he tries cutting through the cuffs, but there’s no way that’s going to work.

  “Mack!” Rodney shouts as Amberly runs from the darkness and tackles his boss to the floor. Her shrieks echo loudly as she slams his head in to the concrete over and over repeatedly. Turning his skull to candy and his brain, puree.

  Nothing better than the basement’s concrete floor to tenderize the meat you’re planning on eating.

  She raises her hand to slash Mack and rip him in half when she accidentally hits the chain that is keeping Rodney prisoner, breaking it cleanly. Ripping it like paper. Her power is truly awesome. Just like how excited Mack was before opening the basement door, so is Amberly at the aspect of tearing something apart with her bare, little hands.

  Rodney slowly crawls to the steps as he turns back around to see Amberly completely tearing Mack apart from head to toe. She couldn’t devour him quicker if she tried. Her smiles of bliss are only exceeded by her unbridled fury.

  As for Rodney, you will be remembered Mack for your sacrifice.

  Rodney crawls out of the basement on his hands and knees through the doorway as Nell stands there holding a gun pointed directly at him. She’s crying and hurt. Not physically but mentally.

  “Nell?” Rodney asks cautiously.

  “Dannalee.”

  Rodney’s eyes widen. “Who?” he asks playing coy.

  “Just, answer me, Rodney!” she screams, cocking the gun.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “From a cop.”

  “Cop? You… killed a cop?!”

  “Dannalee!”

  “What, are you going to shoot me now?”

  “If you don’t answer the question, I will.”

  Rodney pauses. He believes her. There’s nothing he can do. Down in the basement is a flesh-eating, demon-child who seemingly has crawled from the depths of Hell itself, and in front of him is a pissed-off wife. He’s contemplating which is worse.

  “You’ve been sleeping with her?” Nell asks, helping Rodney along the way to the truth.

  “Not sleeping,” he responds much to her surprise.

  “Why?”

  “I had… I was bored.”

  The love she had for Rodney and trust, seems to pour from her drained face with such ferocity, she could kill him. Not to say that she hasn’t made up her mind. “Bored? You dirty asshole! I’ve done everything in my life for you! For you!”

  “I thought I wanted this,” Rodney lies. “When we were younger. The lives we had. I thought this was always what was planned for me. Thought this is what we deserved. I learned, it wasn’t. It just wasn’t, Nell. I’m sorry.” It’s the most sincere Rodney has been in months.

  Nell is trying to process everything. She’s confused, when a sudden moment of clarity comes over her. She looks up at Rodney, her face covered in disdain. “This woman, Mack said months.”

  “Okay?”

  “Was…?” Nell asks before she gets a lump in her throat, holding back her emotions and tears. “Was she the reason you never picked up Amberly? Why, why she died?”

  That’s Rodney’s dirty little secret he never wanted anyone to know. The fucked-up truth. The revelation that struck Nell like a bolt of lightning. What Amberly knew all along. At that moment his own daughter was being raped and murdered by someone she knew and trusted, he was getting laid. He chose the sin of adultery over his own daughter.

  He stares at Nell in the eyes as he admits, “I won’t answer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you already know the answer.”

  Nell heartbreakingly smiles with a tear in her eye as aims the gun and shoots Rodney straight in his heart. He falls flat down against the wall he was resting on. The look of shock forever implanted on his face. She shouts in frustration as she empties the rest of the bullets in the clip into Rodney; all 11 of them. Never aiming at one direct spot, instead, letting them spray all over. She felt that her didn’t deserve precision.

  After the smoke settles, Nell falls to her knees. As if now, of all times, she accepts all the things she’s been doing. Only, she doesn’t care.

  The stairs from the basement creak as Amberly steps out, panting and covered in Mack’s blood.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, baby,” Nell pleads, hoping that Amberly doesn’t get angered, but all the little girl does is shake her head before hugging Nell, who doesn’t understand. “Do you care what Mommy just did?”

  Again, Amberly shakes her head.

  “You… really wanted him dead?”

  Amberly nods.

  Nell frowns and caresses Amberly’s hair, “You… knew.”

  Amberly nods.

  “Ohhhh, my baby. I’m sorry. I love you, please believe me,” Nell confesses, though Amberly already knows.

  Amberly keeps staring at Rodney’s body. There’s only one thing she wants, to do what she’s been ready for all along. To devour her father.

  Rodney thought that there was a more sinister reasoning for Amberly coming back from the dead. Maybe to protect her mother or maybe to exact revenge on the wrongdoers. Witchcraft. Devil worship. It wasn’t.

  Sometimes people die before they were meant to. Sometimes they get second chances and just like second chances, things are done… differently. For better or for worse. Never will anyone be able to hurt Amberly or Nell again.

  Her mother pats Amberly on the head. Nell wants to cry for Rodney, but she can’t. Not right now. Right now, she hates him.

  “Go ahead,” Nell says standing up, turning, and walking away. Like all the others before him who meant nothing, Amberly yanks Rodney’s body down in the basement with such ferocity, it bounces off the door frame, shattering the wood into splinters.

  XIV

  November 29th.

  8:00AM.

  Huffing and puffing, Nell drags a black trash bag through the woods. Pushing aside the leaves, creating her own trail off the beaten path.

  Her eyes are dead. Whatever was left of the sweet Nell that anyone remembers is completely gone. All that remains is a woman who, against all odds, chose to stay the path of loving mother to a renounced little girl. A person who loved her daughter so severely, she killed for her.

  Nell Gray: serial-killer.

  She gets to an embankment and tugs at the trash bag that is considerably heavy. As she tries to throw the bag down the hill, a root sticking out from underneath the ground grabs hold, ripping it open. A thick piece of scalp rolls away collecting dirt as it hits the bottom. A familiar piece of anatomy. Jet-black hair with pink highlights.
<
br />   Dannalee. Victim number who-knows?

  The last piece of the puzzle that ties directly to Rodney. Nell throws the bag down into the trench that is already littered with more body parts than anyone could count. Among the broken and shattered bones are Rodney’s glasses, Mr. College’s clothes, and in the back covered in brush is Sion’s mail truck.

  Nell’s secret graveyard. More accurately, her personal landfill of her and Amberly’s victims. Only four-hundred yards behind the House of Gray.

  Author's Note

  Thank you for reading the first book in “A Melancholic Black Series.” The second book, titled “.45” is scheduled for release in late 2016/early 2017.

  As always, I would like to thank my cover designer Brittney Fournier; my editor Nicole Giverdon; and my friends and family, who have shown undying support.

  Lastly, thank YOU, the reader. I can only hope that my stories can help you escape from the real world, latch onto your psyche, and never let go.

  -R.J.

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