| |
HE HID IN THE SAFETY of the shadows. The darkness of the night was his ally, his best friend and his confidant. He was not afraid of the dark. He actually thrived in the darkness. He found safety in the shadows. In the shadows, he could watch and wait.
She never had a chance to scream before the arms reached out from the alley and dragged her into the darkness. He had been waiting and watching. She was too stunned to react at first. By the time she could utter a scream, the cold edge of the blade cut into her tender flesh.
As with each kill, once he was at home, he placed the precious contents he’d carefully collected into their respective jars. Each jar was filled with a liquid that forever preserved his treasures. After meticulously completing the task, he opened the hidden panel in the wall of his private sanctuary and placed the newly acquired trophies on the shelf. It was not until after this ritual was performed that he surrendered to the voices raging inside of his head.
Before leaving his private sanctuary, he made sure the lock was securely latched. It wasn’t until he knew that his mementos were locked away that he could leave this room. Even after this recent kill, the hunger ate away at him again; it had become almost insatiable lately. It was too soon to hunt again. He pled with the voices to stay silent for a little while before he went out once again.
They refused to be silent. He slammed his fist down on the desk and smashed the glass containing his water. He inadvertently cut himself. He stood there and just watched as the blood flowed down his hand. It was thick and slowly congealing.
The voices mocked and laughed at him more. He trembled with hatred as he begged the voices to be silent. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room. His image sent a flood of memories through his mind, memories that he wished he could have long ago forgotten.
The ornate mirror hanging on the wall was one of his mother’s most cherished possessions. It hung in this room like a shrine to her. Although tarnished and faded from years of neglect, it still remained here in the house.
He backed away from the mirror as the image of his mother moved in behind him. Even after death, she still walked these halls. The devil himself didn’t want his mother. He ran his hands through his hair as he recalled her lectures over the years. Even though the mirror had been one of her most prized possessions, she informed him it was to remind both of them of the evils of vanity.
Still, he couldn’t help but marvel at his reflection. Women often commented on just how mesmerizing his eyes were and how they could lure them into doing whatever he desired.
He thought he could destroy his mother’s voice forever by removing her tongue, but it did nothing to silence her. Worse, it came back from the grave to torment him. Of all the ghosts who visited him, she was the most frequent. She hounded him day and night; he could not walk away from her constant nagging.
Her voice was as clear today as it had been the day she died. It was as if she was right here beside him, vehemently preaching to him about how wicked girls were and how dirty little boys were. One day, she caught him touching himself, and he could still feel the switch hitting him, leaving welts upon his tender flesh, whenever he thought of touching himself.
Growing up, not a single day went by that she didn’t comment on her feelings of disappointment in him and his uselessness. The hate, anger and disappointment that echoed in her voice whenever she talked to or about anyone was deeply ingrained in him. It was an intrinsic part of his psyche. She was the whole reason he was this way.
Suddenly, the image staring back at him in the mirror was a monster, the monster she created. She made it impossible for him to make any friends. He grew up isolated, only having her for companionship. He didn’t know how to act in front of other children. He didn’t know how to talk to a girl and shied away whenever one smiled at him.
His teachers always thought he was overly shy, but he had been scared they would demean him just like his mother. His fear of being belittled in front of others forced him to sit there quietly. She raised him not to talk unless he had permission. She believed children should not be seen nor heard from unless necessary.
His father walked out on his mother before his birth. She always blamed him for his father walking out on them, but maybe he didn’t like her demeanor. Whenever he mentioned his father, he received an unmerciful beating for whatever reason. He quickly learned never to bring up his father, ever.
He had hoped that killing his mother and cutting out her tongue would silence her, but it did not. It was as if her death restored her eyes and her tongue. The women reminded him of his mother, so he purposefully removed their eyes and tongue. He kept the eyes as his mementos. He kept them tucked away from his mother’s view. His mother said eyes were the windows to the soul, but these women were like his mother, soulless bitches who deserved to die. Taking their eyes removed their evil souls and preserving their eyes meant that he could keep their souls from haunting his every movement.
He was becoming much more efficient in removing the eyes. Honing his skill with each kill. If only he could silence his mother’s voice in his head; then perhaps he could stop killing.
His mind drifted towards the woman he met the other day at church. He had never laid eyes on anyone that lovely. He instantly knew she was someone special. She didn’t even resemble his mother. Just seeing the woman sent a never felt before feeling rushing through him. He couldn’t help but wonder if she could be the one to silence his mother’s voice. Maybe through her, he would find true love. He must make her his.
His mother must have realized he was thinking of her once again because he heard her voice raging through his mind about how wicked women were. He picked up his knife and surveyed it. He felt the sharp blade. The knife brought him some peace from his mother’s incessant nagging. She may have stopped her nagging, but he still felt her in his mind. Silence, all he wished was to finally make her silent.