Something_Violent

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Something_Violent Page 20

by Rufty, Kristopher


  But they’re killers. Nothing about this is right. Nothing about this is good.

  Maybe not, but Ron couldn’t stop smiling.

  He gave them a few more minutes before he started moving things forward. They’d made a breakthrough with Seth, but Ron knew it still wasn’t the end-all for their problems. There was more. But after this, he felt confident they might work out the rest together.

  What’s wrong with me? Why should I care?

  It felt like it used to when he was first starting out. Back when Lisa was still alive. She’d told him if he only made a true difference with one couple, then he was a success. Well…he’d had plenty of success, but had never felt this good about it.

  Ron delivered a quick recap of everything they’d told him thus far. He paused when he mentioned the website again.

  “What?” Jody asked after he’d been quiet longer than he’d intended.

  “That site,” Ron said.

  “What about it?” Seth asked.

  “I just can’t wrap my mind around it. It’s a real thing?”

  “Yeah,” said Seth.

  “An exclusive club for killers,” Ron said. “And the Wilsons were members.”

  Seth cleared his throat. “Back at the Wilsons’ shack, when I was looking for clothes for Jody, I looked inside what I guess was Mackey’s closet. I saw a piece of rope hanging from the ceiling. It was attached to a small door—a crawl space. I’m not sure why I opened it. Maybe I thought there would be clothes for Jody to wear up there, or maybe I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any other Wilsons hiding out. I found routers, computers, cameras, and hard drives. Cables were stretched out all over the floor, running up the walls and ceiling. LCD computer monitors hung on the walls like photographs. On each screen was the homepage for Something Violent.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I guess their setup ran off the generator. When it was powered up, so was their system.”

  “Glenn and Stacey were also members, right?”

  Jody nodded. “It’s huge. We haven’t even looked at all the profiles yet.”

  “Who runs this? How has it gone on for so long and nobody noticed?”

  Seth’s eyes narrowed. “Why all the questions about the site?”

  Ron realized he was badgering them for information. But he wanted to know more about it. Had to know. A site such as that one was incredible. He wanted to see it. If he was going to write a book, fiction or otherwise, he’d need to learn all he could.

  “I feel it’s important,” said Ron, “if you tell me everything.”

  “Nobody knows,” Jody said. “Nobody knows who started Something Violent, nobody asks, if they know what’s best for them. How it’s gone on for so long, nobody knows that, either. How it checks you out for confirmation that you’re who you say you are, nobody knows.”

  “What if it got hacked, or if the police…”

  “It’s protected,” she said. “Even if authorities came looking, they wouldn’t get very deep into it.”

  “A social network for murderers,” Ron said. “Unbelievable.”

  “So these questions,” said Seth, “are they professional curiosity or personal?”

  Both.

  “Well, this site is much a part of you two as anything else. You might even say it’s the center of you. I imagine that others, like you, use this site as a tool for reflection. Just like anybody might use a social network site to brag about their vacation.”

  Jody clucked her tongue. “Not anymore.”

  Before Ron could ask her to elaborate, she was already talking again.

  “It’s dangerous,” Jody added.

  “Explain that,” said Ron. He noticed Seth’s shoulders rise and drop with a silent sigh.

  “Seth became obsessed with it, the site, I mean. Whenever he had the chance, he got on it.”

  “Not true,” said Seth.

  “Shut up,” Jody said.

  “Whoa,” Ron interrupted. He couldn’t allow them to fight now. They’d hugged just a few minutes ago, and he couldn’t afford for them to veer off this rekindled path. “Jody, please keep the…hostility out of this room.”

  Jody stared at him a moment, a strange look on her face. She looked somewhat surprised and irritated. “Well, I’ll sure try not to be hostile.”

  “Thank you,” Ron said. He took a deep breath. It stung his throat with unease. “What was Seth looking at on the site?”

  “Trish.”

  “Again, not true,” said Seth. “I was looking at Zach and Trish. They’re a couple. I noticed they’d started commenting on some of our pictures in the past. All of us”—Seth gestured with his hand back and forth from him and Jody—“talked often online. I guess we were internet buddies.”

  “Ah,” said Ron. “I understand that. Sure, that’s normal.”

  “But he was talking to Trish a lot,” said Jody. “Always on their profile, looking at pictures of her. She’d even started sending him some.”

  “Pictures of her?” Ron asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Ron turned to Seth. “Why?”

  “They weren’t nudie pictures or anything.”

  “She was naked in some of them,” Jody said, cutting him off.

  “Well, yeah,” Seth said, “she was. But she was posing with a dead body. It wasn’t that she was sending me a picture of her. If was of what she’d done. And Zach had been the one who’d taken the picture.”

  “Okay,” Ron said. “I feel like we’re skipping back and forth.” Ron remembered his arms were bound when he went to rub his aching eyes. He had such a deep headache that his brain felt sore. He knew if he wasn’t careful, this would turn brutal. “Seth, Jody thinks you’ve been spending too much time ogling pictures of this woman.”

  “She’s wrong,” Seth said. “Jumping to conclusions. Having her freak-out moments for no reason.”

  Jody made a coughing sound at the back of her throat. “No reason? You’d been acting weird. Had been since the Wilson thing. I was wondering if you were cheating on me.”

  “But you told me Seth is faithful,” Ron said.

  “He is. At least I think he is.”

  “I am,” Seth said.

  “Jody, if you say Seth’s faithful, then why does it sound as if you’re accusing—”

  “I don’t know!” Jody grabbed a handful of her hair. Ron thought she was about to rip it out of her scalp, but thankfully she let go. “He was acting so weird. I knew he was depressed and pissed at me for what had happened at the shack. So I gave him some space. Since I had to heal up, it wasn’t like we could go and do anything for a while. But I shouldn’t have, because that was when he started obsessing over Trish’s pictures.”

  Seth huffed through his nose.

  “Seth, what were your intentions with Trish?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” he said. “We were just talking. Jody wasn’t feeling good. She seemed as if she wanted me to leave her alone after killing the girls. So I left her alone. I was bored, started fiddling around on Something Violent.”

  “And started this relationship with Trish,” Ron said.

  “It wasn’t a relationship,” he said. “Not even close.”

  “Well, were you attracted to her?” Ron asked, immediately regretting it. He knew he was pushing Seth too hard. A guy like him would definitely push back if he didn’t like it.

  But Seth didn’t look angry. He looked as if he felt guilty. Finally, he said, “Maybe a little.”

  Jody started to cry. “I knew it…that’s why you couldn’t do it that night.”

  “No,” said Seth. “That doesn’t have anything to do with it. We weren’t even really talking then. Maybe I was a little attracted to her, but all it did was mess up my head even more.”

  “What is Jody talking about?” Ron asked. “That night?”

  Jody, knuckling tears out of her eyes, held up her hand to keep Seth from answering. “I finally started feeling better, and got the itch,
you know?”

  “To kill,” Ron said.

  “Right,” she said. “So I pestered Seth to go out…”

  “I couldn’t perform, okay!” Seth shouted.

  Both Ron and Jody jumped. Ron felt his chair tilt back, then drop back down on all fours. If he’d still been holding the pad and pen, he’d surely have dropped them both.

  Seth viciously scratched his head with a sound like cardboard boxes rubbing together. “I couldn’t…do it.”

  “Do what?” Ron asked.

  “Kill her.”

  “Jody?”

  “Fucking idiot,” Seth muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

  Jody shook her head. “We found a woman, a real piece of work, too. Followed her until we were the only ones on the road for a long time. We ran her off the side of the road, threw her in the car and drove off. We took her to one of our favorite spots in the woods. We picked it out a long time ago, on a day trip, while driving around in search of places to take people. Anyway, we got her tied up against a tree…”

  Ron watched Seth as Jody described the scene. He looked uncomfortable, miserable. The color drained from his sweaty face.

  Even hearing Jody talk about it is too much for him.

  By the time Ron started listening again, he realized he’d missed a great deal. Probably fortunate that he had. Jody liked to go into lurid detail, and he figured he hadn’t missed anything but descriptions of how she’d worked the poor woman over, getting her ready for Seth to make the final kill.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Seth said. “I put the knife to her throat…held it there.” Seth held up his fist, putting an imaginary knife to an invisible woman’s throat. His hand trembled as if he were holding something heavy. “I held it there…and held it.”

  “He couldn’t…” Jody started to say, but stopped talking.

  Good. All Seth needs is to hear her point out his homicide dysfunction.

  Ron liked that terminology. He’d have to remember that. Write it down sometime.

  If I get out of here.

  Looking at Seth, he saw he still held his arm out. Sweat dripped from his forearm.

  “It was her eyes,” said Seth. “She just had these big…eyes. You should’ve seen them. They were filled with tears, sopping in them. I don’t know…she just looked at me…”

  “I told him it was because of the mask,” said Jody. “We both had on new masks, and maybe it just didn’t feel right because the mask was different.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Ron. “The situation was different now. Wasn’t it, Seth?”

  Seth frowned. “What?” He started to shake his head. Stopped. “It was…different.”

  “Why do you think that was?” Ron asked.

  “I…” Seth winced. It looked painful for him, trying to decide. “I don’t know.”

  “So what happened next?” Ron asked.

  “I offered to help him,” said Jody.

  Now it was Ron’s turn to wince.

  “I know,” said Jody. “It was stupid.”

  “Made it worse?” Ron asked.

  “Seth dropped the knife and stormed off.”

  “I couldn’t…I just…”

  “And next?”

  Jody bit down on her lip, nervous to say. Ron could tell she’d done something she now regretted.

  Seth sat forward, anger bringing color back to his pallid complexion. “She said, ‘So you can kill little kids, but you can’t kill this bitch?’”

  Jody burst into tears. “I’m sorry I said that!”

  Ron cleared his throat. He tried to wave with his hand, and could only move his fingers. “What’s said is said. Can’t take it back.”

  Leaning over, Jody put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her palms.

  “Did you kill the woman?” Ron asked Jody.

  Shaking her head, her face made sloshing sounds against her hands.

  “You just…left her there?”

  Jody lifted her head. Her face was pink, eyes swollen and puffy. “Yeah. Somebody found her. She was all right. They chalked it up to Satan’s Sweethearts copycats. The masks…I guess it made them think that.”

  “Seth?”

  Seth stared at the floor. Though he didn’t acknowledge Ron, the bound counselor was sure he’d heard him.

  “Have you killed anyone since the Wilson fiasco?”

  “Once,” Jody answered for him.

  “No,” said Seth.

  Jody’s mouth dropped open. “But you said you…”

  “I lied. I never even met up with her.”

  “You stood her up?”

  Seth shrugged.

  “What the hell, Seth? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Because…I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “After the night I had, you thought that would upset me?”

  Another shrug from Seth. “You get pissed so easily these days…”

  “Met up with whom?” Ron asked.

  “Another one of Jody’s ingenious ideas,” Seth said.

  “A few days after that…experience,” Jody said, “I busted Seth staring at a picture of Trish one night. She was naked, slicked in blood, and holding a severed head. Seth had a hard-on. I could see the top of the head poking out his boxer shorts…”

  “I bet that was heartbreaking,” said Ron.

  “It was.”

  Seth slapped his knee. “So tragic Jody decided I should go off and kill with Trish for a while.”

  Ron didn’t understand. “Explain.”

  “Seth confessed to everything. So I started talking to Trish. Turns out, she and Zach had been getting a little bored themselves and wanted to try something new.”

  “Did you?” Ron asked.

  “Not really.”

  “But you thought if Seth went and killed with her, he’d remember how much he enjoyed killing with you. Maybe he’d find that passion again?”

  Jody’s eyes widened. “Maybe.”

  “Didn’t you worry that he might enjoy killing with her more than you?”

  Now she looked uncomfortable. “No. Stupid, huh?”

  Ron didn’t answer. “I think I see where this is going…”

  “Even an idiot would,” Seth said.

  “Serial killer swinging?” Ron asked. He noticed he’d almost started laughing.

  Jody said, “Like I said, Zach and Trish were in something of a rut. They were looking for a couple like us, like them, to help spice things up…in the killing field. It was Trish’s idea, and I just went along with it. Trish and I worked out all the details. She told Zach and I told Seth.”

  “I was against it from the start,” said Seth.

  “I can imagine,” Ron said. “Kind of a shock.”

  “Kind of?” Seth shook his head. “Blew my damn mind when she brought it up.”

  “But you agreed to do it, originally,” said Ron.

  “Well…I told Jody I would. And maybe I’d even planned on it. But the night we were supposed to meet up, I decided not to go.”

  “Seth was supposed to go meet Trish, and I was supposed to meet Zach…I wish Seth would’ve told me before that he’d planned on standing her up. I wouldn’t have gone, either.”

  “I didn’t decide until the last minute,” he said. “Didn’t feel right.”

  Jody took a deep breath and let it out. “Would’ve saved me from an awful night.”

  Part Three

  25

  Jody

  Following Zach’s instructions, I parked my car about a mile from the campground’s entrance at a pull-off next to the woods. Took me a damn long time to walk there. When I reached the gated gravel road, I was slicked in sweat. Since I wore a tank top, the backpack had rubbed my bare shoulders raw. My legs hurt, feet throbbed. Calves felt like small boulders had been packed under my skin. Guess that was what I got for wearing boots with my skirt, instead of sneakers.

  I grabbed the top of the gate, hoisting myself up. Since it was only a pasture gate, th
e flimsy metal rattled and shook as I climbed. When I reached the top, I swung one leg over, straddling the gate. My skirt draped my sweaty thighs, clinging to my skin.

  Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. It felt frizzy and damp from the late summer humidity. Sitting with the gate between my legs, I contemplated turning back. It’d be easy to just hop down and head back to my car. Go home. Be done with it. Wait for Seth to get home. Apologize, again. Maybe we could forget this stupid thing, move forward, and get on with our lives.

  I brought my other leg over and dropped on the other side. My boots slapped gravel, hurling a small cloud of dust that clung to my shins. It felt gritty and gross as I tried to wipe my legs clean.

  Looking around, all I saw was deep, dark woods that seemed to stretch on forever. Zach and Trish’s last email had claimed a lake was out here. Seeing the creepy density of trees all around, I had a hard time believing it. I hoped I’d find it, so I could wade into the cool water and wash off my legs.

  I adjusted the backpack, then started walking along the moonlit driveway.

  The darkness was thick, but I didn’t use the flashlight in my pack. Nothing announces your location like a bright beam swiping through the night. I really needed it though, since I kept stumbling over every rut in the old road. Lifting my arm in front of me, my hand was just a faint smudge in the blackness. The moon was full, though the trees acted as a canopy that blocked me from seeing it.

  And it was quiet. Other than the scuffing sounds of my boots on the rocks, I faintly heard the chirping of insects and relentless croaks of frogs.

  I don’t know how long it took me to reach the turnoff for the campground. Felt like I’d walked half the night before spotting the big arrow on the left side of the road, pointing to another road that veered to the right.

  Pausing long enough to adjust the backpack’s straps again, I started down a narrower path that was really dark. A tree branch brushed my arm and I let out an involuntary squeal. I slapped my hand over my mouth, silently demanded myself to knock it off. I nodded, as if to agree with the assertive bitch in my head.

 

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