He was used to pain. His legs bothered him every day. Some days were more bearable than others, but they constantly hurt. It was a side effect of the muscle death he had experienced. It was also a side effect of the regrowth that was occurring.
This was new pain. The claws of the pint-sized bitch had torn into his hands, arms, and face. Unlike most people, she had continued to fight even when he had her by the throat.
It pissed him off. He had been sure she would lose her fight after a few seconds, but she hadn’t. Even after throwing her into a window, she had continued to see her surroundings and the threat they posed. He wondered if the LSD wasn’t strong enough for her. He’d based the dosage off what he had given to Maya, but he had been dosing her with belladonna for a couple of months. He found the combination gave the best results.
Except with her, which was a problem. He’d attempted to kill her twice and had yet to succeed. The only thing that helped was that others had also failed to kill her many times. He was determined to be the one to do it. Short of walking up and putting a gun to her face, he was coming up short in the how to kill her department, but it was a problem for another day.
He washed the scratches. He and his sister, Maria, were going to visit their sister Helena today. Helena had been committed several years earlier voluntarily. The move had been advantageous and stopped her from being a murder suspect. At the time, it had been a conflict of interest. Alejandro had been working for the FBI and Helena had been a murderer, but you did what you could to assist family. Most of the deaths had been ruled accidental or suspicious, as no suspects or leads came in. No links were made to the family. It had all worked out.
Besides, Helena had raised all of them. Their mother had died when they were young. Their father hadn’t been around much. Helena, as the oldest, had assumed responsibility for the family. She had made sure they ate, got dressed, went to school, and had help with their homework. She was what a woman should aspire to be. This dedication had driven her insane with rage. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could think one of her brothers would be involved with drugs or murder. She certainly didn’t believe some junkie whore should be used as a witness against him. Helena believed Gavin had stabbed himself to get away from the accusations. Alejandro disagreed, but wouldn’t argue with her.
The water stung as it entered the wounds. There was no doubt that some of the make-up had gotten into them. He steeled himself for the scrubbing that would need to be done. For a moment, he thought about the irony of it. He had gotten used to the pains in his legs, they hurt, but he could power through it. However, scratch marks were going to make him wince. He supposed it was like a paper cut versus a bullet wound. Paper cuts seemed to hurt more intensely and for a longer period of time.
Helena had taught him about the values a woman should have. Helena had taught him that family came first. To her, there was no greater sin than turning your back on family.
It was the driving force behind him trying to connect with Tyler. Tyler was his blood. Tyler belonged with them, not with some unknown family. To Alejandro, the only reason Maya Hudson had raised his nephew was because Anita was not a woman that possessed many values. If she had been, she probably would be alive today along with Gavin. It was partially Anita’s fault that Gavin was dead.
He had worked around serial killers enough to know that most preyed on high risk women. Only the bold went after low risk victims. This confirmed that Anita was lacking in morals. She was probably turning tricks or something the night she died, she and the group of women she had been with. It wouldn’t surprise him.
Even his sister Maria had some loose morals. She couldn’t find a husband and the few times she had gotten close, they had been unacceptable matches. It was as if she intentionally picked men that her family wouldn’t like. Alejandro really had to control his temper sometimes. She could be difficult. He wasn’t sure how to correct her behavior. She had always been the rebellious one.
Alejandro gazed at his hands. They had turned red from the hot water and scrubbing. The scratches looked raw; a few of the deeper ones were bleeding again. Cain would pay for them. Maybe he would make an exception and torture her a little bit before killing her.
He could let himself into her room tomorrow night while she slept, and then pounce on her when she least expected it. Duct tape worked well to keep people quiet. He could turn up the TV to mask her muffled shouts. He had never tortured anyone, but he was willing to expand his horizons. He would dose her again with a larger amount of LSD, and then cut her to shreds. He wondered if she would see him as a demon, like Maya Hudson, or some other monster that lurked in the dark crevices of her deranged brain.
Imagining it was dangerous. It was a fantasy that he could get lost in. There was also the slim chance that he would over aggrandize it and the event wouldn’t live up to what he had imagined. If that happened, he would want to kill again. He would need it to feel the rush that came with bloodletting.
He thought about that for a moment. It wasn’t correct. He didn’t have a bloodlust. Bloodletting did little for him. There was no euphoria associated with it. He wanted the kill. He didn’t need to watch it. Just knowing it was happening was enough to get him high. It was why he didn’t torture his victims. Cutting up Aislinn Cain would be interesting, but it was her death that he desired, not her blood. He wasn’t even entirely sure he could do it.
She had fought back and she shouldn’t have. That still bothered him. He was a large man, much larger than she was. He was a psychopath, she wasn’t. His hand around her throat, pressing on her carotid artery and windpipe, should have taken the fight out of her. Some part of him wondered if he had done something wrong. He had never tried to kill anyone with his bare hands before. Her neck had been small in his hand. His thumb had overlapped his index and middle fingers. Maybe his fingers touching across her spine had not allowed the pressure he had imagined.
A weapon was required, a weapon that didn’t take a while to have an impact, like the belladonna. He’d been good with knives, even growing up. Besides, knives were scary. They meant more than just death. They ensured pain beforehand. He knew from experience that he preferred facing people with guns. Guns were predictable and had almost no versatility. Knives were extremely versatile, making them unpredictable. It was far better to take a knife. She would take him seriously if he were wielding a knife.
“Are you about ready?” Maria’s voice startled him. He looked at her reflection in the mirror.
“Yeah, I just need to finish getting dressed.” She said nothing about him standing at the sink. She nodded to him and went into the living room.
“You must have been thinking about her,” Maria shouted to him from the other room. “You didn’t hear me knock or answer when I called your name and you allowed yourself to get caught standing up. Is it because she didn’t die?”
“I’ve got another plan,” Alejandro answered.
“Of course you do.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and disdain. Alejandro had to grab the counter to keep himself from walking in there and strangling her. She just didn’t understand, he told himself, but she would. When he killed Aislinn Cain and cleared Gavin, all the anger would melt away.