Placebo

by Paul Allih

  Getting inside, she slams the door and says, "Alright, but I don't do no kinky stuff."

  Matt looks into her shimmering blue eyes with a smile and drives away. He makes a few turns, heading towards a place where he knows the two will not be bothered. An empty stretch of beach that lies desolate between condos and expensive houses. Having no idea where he is taking her, she tries to insinuate small talk to calm her nerves. Not responding to her, Matt keeps his cold eyes focused on the road. Keeping her hands folded in her lap, she tries not to shake. In her mind this is playing out like the scene from a horror film—a stranger taking her away into the dark of night where no one can see them.

  Pulling into a small parking lot, Matt cuts off his headlights as his wheels coast into a spot. The parking lot looks over the beach, surrounded by thick groups of saw grass.

  Turning off the engine, Matt looks to his rental and asks,

  "D'ya wanna go for a roll in the sand?"

  Nervously she shrugs as she looks out into the dark parking lot. Turning her head back to Matt, she fights a shiver 198

  by flashing a forced smile. Opening the car door, she slowly steps out as Matt slides out from his seat. Closing the door behind her, Matt meets her around the car and escorts her through the dark setting. The street girl's eyes wander around the parking lot, seeking any sign of life other than the two of them. As Matt tugs her by the arm towards the steps that lead down to the beach, she tries to tell herself that she is going to be fine. Reminding herself that she often gets these vibes with her strange callers, she takes a deep breath and hopes the money will pay her rent for the month.

  Passing by the large foliage, they walk down the stairs and step down into the sands. Reaching down, she pulls off her cheap high heels and carries them in her hand. The waves crash into the shore as she peers around her surroundings.

  Seeing that he beach is completely empty, she begins to panic. Trying to keep her calm, she watches as the waves crash into the shore. Matt drags her towards an empty lifeguard post and says, "Let's go over to that tower, I don't think we'll be bothered by anyone under there."

  Saying nothing, she takes a few breaths as she closes her eyes; taking in the relaxing sound of ocean. Pulling her beneath the structure, Matt runs his fingers through her hair as he looks into her eyes. Her eyes stray from meeting with his and he can tell she scared of him. Matt smiles sadistically as he tightens his grip on hair. Letting him take control of her, Matt forces her to her knees. Kneeling in front of him, she raises her hands to his belt line and Matt brushes them away. Looking up at him in confusion, Matt says, "I'll tell you when I want you to touch me… understand?"

  Matt steps around her and looms over her from behind.

  In a whisper, he tells her to close her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she fights back her body's tremble and does as he says. With one hand he softly caresses her hair as his other carefully draws his blade. The steel slips out of its sheath with the softest scrape while Matt exhales in excitement. Bringing the knife closer to her neck, he moves his hands down to her 199

  shoulder and massages her sensually. Closing her eyes, she sighs as her body begins to loosen from the grip of stress.

  Feeling her muscles unwind under his fingers, he moves under her jaw and runs the cold steel along her jugular.

  He holds her steady as she suddenly convulses, grabbing at her bleeding wound. Matt licks her blood from the blade as she gasps for air. As much as she fights to breathe, she starts to black out from the sudden loss of blood. Griping her shoulder tighter, Matt holsters his knife and quickly starts sucking the blood from her neck. The woman's eyes roll back in her head as she becomes weaker, fading as Matt drains her of her life's essence. Feeding from her severed vein, Matt can feel as her life drips away. Her pulse slowly fades to nothing while his beats with the thirst of life. As he squeezes every drop he can from her fatal wound, Matt feels reborn.

  Getting his fill, Matt comes to his feet and pushes the hooker's body into the sand. She falls over face-down as Matt starts to collect himself. He pulls out a black handkerchief from his back pocket and casually wipes her remnants from his mouth. Staring down at the lifeless shell before him, he stuffs the rag back into his pocket. Stepping from under the lifeguard tower, Matt walks the beach beneath the moonlight.

  Basking in the life he just took, he feels her being course through him as he strolls along the waves. Satisfied for now, but he harps on his next kill. His insanity has taken him over, convincing his body that he needs blood to live.

  Much like a heroin addict, the need has grown so strong in Matt that it has become physical. He has felt the slight pains in the pit of his stomach that tremor into harsh cramps; this is his body echoing its strange hunger. Knowing that this is a necessity, he feels no remorse for his victims. Like an animal abiding to the food chain, this is the circle of life to Matt. Without this cannibalistic sustenance, he tells himself that he cannot survive. Each move from here on out must be in step with his hunger. A slave to his sickening thirsts, only time will tell how many will fall prey to his viciousness.

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  As morning comes over the coastal town of Vero Beach, Donnie peels himself off of the couch in his friend's living room. Getting a glass of water to freshen his mouth, he is faced with giving his friend a ride home or fleeing before dealing with any kind of awkwardness with Emma. Guzzling down his water he debates whether or not Parker will be pissed off at him. His back is sore from the cheap couch and all he wants to do is go home a get a few winks in his own bed. Walking back into the living room of the quiet house, he looks over at Kelly's bedroom door. Thinking of his friend in the arms of the girl he wants, he grabs his keys and slips out of the front door.

  Donnie fights the wrath of the bright sun from his eyes as he makes his way to the car. Squinting, he gets in and starts the engine. As he backs out, another car pulls into the driveway. His senses tell him to keep going and stick to his path towards his home. He eye balls the strangers as they step out of their car. Donned in suits, Donnie tells himself that they are cops and he wants nothing to do with what might take place. He presses on the gas and screeches away from the house as the two detectives take in his driving abilities with the shake of their heads.

  Laughing at Donnie, the two make their up to the front door and knock loudly. With a car in the driveway, they know someone is home, so they wait as patiently as their moods allow them to. After a second series of loud knocks, Emma comes to the door wearing the night before haggardly upon her face. With squinting eyes, she says, "Look we’re not interested in becoming Jehovah’s witnesses, so don’t…"

  Flashing Emma his badge, Thompson cuts her off and says, "I'm Detective Ralph Thompson and this is Detective Harris Mills… we have a few questions to ask about your mother, Ophelia Swanson?"

  Emma steps back and lets them inside of her home; not thinking about the booze bottles littered everywhere. After 201

  she introduces herself, Emma starts playing the role of the good host. She closes the door behind them and tells them to have a seat at the dining room table. She wonders what they want and what they are doing in her house as she nervously sifts through the kitchen for coffee.

  They take their seats and Thompson says while looking around the party ravaged house, "It must be hard losing your mother and having to live alone."

  Preparing three cups of instant espresso, Emma says,

  "Well, yeah, but I have my sister so it makes it a lil easier."

  Thompson asks, "Where's she at?"

  "Oh, she's sleeping in… she works a lot of hours, ya know?"

  Thompson stands up and says, "Look I'm gonna cut to the chase, Emma... we found one your mother's ex lovers shot to death at Jay-Cee Park and her finger prints all over the murder weapon... a snub nose .38 caliber pistol."

  Emma looks at the two detectives in confusion—

  speechless. Suddenly, Kelly walks out and asks, "Who was it?" taking the three off guard.

  Thompso
n looks over at her and answers, "His name was Dillon…"

  Before Dillon's last name could leave his lips, Kelly cuts him off, "Dillon was a piece of shit and he deserved whatever the hell he got."

  The two Detectives look at one another as if they are speaking to each other with their eyes. Thompson shoots his attention back to Kelly and says, "After viewing his rap sheet, I'm not gonna disagree, but we are just trying to solve a murder investigation… we need to know where she was on the night of the shooting."

  Detective Mills asks, "Do you think it's possible that your mother shot him on the night of March 14th?"

  Looking to Kelly and then to Emma, Mills waits for an answer as the two sisters look at one another. The Detectives clock the sisters as their look eyes meet with odd expressions.

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  Silence takes over the room as body language screams in noticeable volumes.

  Breaking her eye contact with Emma, Kelly walks into the kitchen and answers, "I don't know, but my mother didn’t own a gun.”

  "Look…" Thomson says, "We have your mother's prints on file and they're a perfect match to the weapon… this weapon's ballistics also matched up to murder that occurred in Miami in 2001… so, it's probable that she bought this gun illegally on the streets."

  Kelly and Emma look at one another before Kelly asks,

  "What the hell do you want from us? This guy had been stalking our family for years and you guys weren't there to help us… no matter how many times she called the cops, it you couldn't do shit until she was harmed in some way. Now there's a possibility that she finally took the fucker out and you're questioning us before she is even buried?!"

  Seeing that they are not going to get any answers, the Detectives give one another an understanding glance and stand up from their seats. Thompson pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. He takes out one of his cards and places it on the dining room table and says, "If either of you can tell us anything helpful… just call the number on the card. Our condolences and we’re sorry to have bothered you today."

  Letting themselves out, Kelly and Emma hug one another seeking some sort of comfort in each other's arms. They know in their hearts that their mother killed Dillon, but they do not blame her. This act had been a long time coming. It was the only way that Ophelia could truly free herself from Dillon.

  No matter how many times she would call the police for help, she was always left hung out to dry. If someone threatens you and you call the police, within the law, the police can only act if you have been physically harmed by your assailant. Given these circumstances, what is left to do for anyone who finds themselves in this kind of vulnerability?

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  CHAPTER 25

  Emma sits in her room reading as she tries to get over the hangover that looms over her being. Even though she has her stereo on, she can hear Kelly and Parker in the throes of their sexual ecstasy. With a heavy sigh, she turns up the volume and drowns them out with her Type O Negative mix cd.

  Shaking her head, she thinks about Donnie's rejection of her and hates him for turning her down. Though she sees him as a sweet guy, she thought that he was oafish enough that she could get him in her bed without a problem. No matter how much she tries not to think about it, her head swims over the fact that Donnie did not take her like a goddess as she had hoped he would.

  Trying to focus on her chapter, Emma's cell phone starts ringing and breaks her already distorted attention. Picking up 204

  her phone from her night stand, she looks at the caller ID and sees that it is Matt. She stares at his name flashing across the screen as she debates on whether or not to answer. If she takes his call she knows that he will just be belligerent towards her like he was the last time they had spoken. As the debate in her head wages on, her headache grows larger while the phone continues to ring. Before she can make her choice, the phone suddenly quiets in mid ring.

  Turning the phone off, she tosses it on the bed and leaves her bedroom for a cup of coffee. Stepping out into the hallway, her right ear is filled with her sister's moans as her left his is tickled with the symphonic doom of Type O Negative’s song Bloody Kisses. Shaking her head, she hopes their session of lust will end soon so she can finally have some peace.

  Walking into the kitchen, she blocks out the sounds of their joy, convincing herself that her disdain has nothing to do with jealousy. Pouring herself another cup of coffee, she draws a smoke from her sister's pack and uses her lighter to light it.

  Taking a drag, Emma exhales with a chuckle.

  She pictures Matt acting like a jilted lover, pacing from wall to wall in his apartment as his fantasies run wild about what she could be doing behind his back. Smoking a cigarette and sipping from her sugar sweetened coffee, Emma grins at the thought of him flipping out over her. Consumed with her new found strength through another's weakness, she imagines that he is stressing himself out over her ignoring him. Emma has convinced herself that Matt has never been denied access like this by a woman. Sadly, Emma does not realize that she might be playing with fire when it comes to Matt.

  Emma's imagination placates her ego as Matt sits on his bed naked. He is running his Bowie knife along the center of his chest. The blade is speckled with dried blood from his victim from the night before. Thinking about their last conversation, Matt senses that she is trying to distance herself from him. Pressing the knife harder into his chest, he cracks a grin while thinking about Emma's sudden rejection. As this 205

  emotional hurt sinks into his mind, Matt slowly drags the blade his front, opening a fresh wound. The incision runs with red from his chest to just above his navel. Pulling the knife away, Matt closes his eyes and runs his free hand over his laceration.

  Leaning back against his head board, Matt softly caresses and smears his blood all over his front. Letting go of his knife, he picks up his cell phone and calls Emma again. Placing the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring while he digs his fingernails into his cut. Exhaling with a heavy breath, the call goes to her voice mail. A song plays in static noise as he digs his fingers deeper into his wound. Once the beep sounds, Matt sighs in sick pleasure through the receiver, "Hey baby, I was just thinking about you… wanting you, needing you. Just give me a call, alright? Maybe later we can get together?"

  Setting her phone down, Emma fills her coffee cup with a slight smile. Pouring creamer in, she hears her phone mel-odically beep, telling her there is a voice mail. Dumping four spoonfuls of sugar in, she walks back to her phone and listens to the message. Emma laughs at the tone of Matt's message.

  With a chuckle, she gets more kicks by leaving him hanging on. She mistakes the sound of hurtful perversion in his voice for an innocent yearning. With a shake of her head, she deletes his message and smiles.

  Taking a seat on the couch, Kelly walks out and asks,

  "Did you make coffee?"

  Emma nods and comments, "Yeah, with your latest work out, I figured you might need some."

  Kelly rolls her eyes and retorts, "Jealous, much?"

  Making her way into the kitchen, Kelly adds, "Don't think I didn't hear your cell blasting out here… who's been tryin' to get in your pants?"

  "It's Matt… he's been blowin' up my phone constantly for the last couple of days."

  Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Kelly asks, "did you break it off with him?"

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  "Nah, I'm lettin' him twitch for now."

  Parker walks out of Kelly's bedroom as he pulls his shirt over his head, "Are you sure that's wise?"

  With a shrug Emma replies, "Yeah, why not?"

  "Well, because he's a twisted fuck."

  "Oh please, he's not some fuckin' serial killer. He's just some asshole who thinks he can do crazy shit to intimidate people… mostly women."

  "Whatever you say, Emma, but I think he's dangerous and you probably shouldn't toy with him."

  Taking a sip from her coffee, Emma shakes her head and replies, "He's got you all fooled, no shit! I've been with his type be
fore… he's a wanna-be hard ass with the soul of a fuckin' puppy."

  Shaking his head at Emma's ignorance, Parker walks into the kitchen and holds back from going off on her. He has a feeling about what kind of person Matt is and it would not shock him in the slightest to hear that he was being charged with several murders. The rumors going around town about Matt are indefensible. Most believe every word of the supposed gossip. Parker also knows that there is no arguing with ignorance. With a hangover and a drained body, Parker just moves on with his day, letting Emma believe what she wants while hoping she is smart enough to know when to quit.

  Changing the subject, Kelly asks Emma, "So, how did things go with Donnie last night?"

  Emma simply responds, "Everything was cool… we just chilled and talked."

  Kelly gives her sister a smirk and taunts, "Oh really, just talked, huh?"

  Looking down, Emma blushes and struggles for a reply on the spot, "Yeah… we uh just talked…um y'know?"

  Seeing through Emma's fumbling charade, Kelly says,

  "Cut the shit… what happened?"

  Giving Kelly a smug look, she asks Parker, "Did you sleep well?"

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  Snapping at Emma, Kelly says, "Yeah and after he's done, you can tell us how things really went between you and Donnie last night!"

  Confused by the demeanor of the two sisters as they glare at each other; Parker shrugs and answers, "I slept fine, thanks."

  Not wanting her sister to know what happened with Donnie, she is irritated that Kelly is trying so hard to drag it out of her. Emma is embarrassed and just wants to forget that Donnie rejected her drunken advances. She feels like she acted like such an arrogant fool by thinking that she could have another person so easily. Crawling inside of herself, she backs away from taunting Parker and Kelly. As she lowers her eyes towards her cup of coffee, Parker kisses Kelly on the lips. They make inside jokes to one another about their night together. Feeling a bit awkward, there is a small stab from jealousy that cuts into her.

  Suddenly, Kelly's phone rings, interrupting the two love birds in their throes. Under her breath, Emma sighs, "Thank you, God."