Family Night (2 page)

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Authors: Tim Miller

BOOK: Family Night
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Chapter 3

 

     The Mask watched her slither across the floor as blood oozed from the back of her legs. He called himself The Mask when in his uniform. His other self was weak, and pathetic. The Mask on the other hand was strong and powerful. People feared The Mask. They screamed and ran when they saw him. The Mask was his true self. Now he was teaching his children the craft.

     Some would say what he did was cruel or murder. But it was not. It was art. Not so much the final product, but the process itself was a dance; a unique dance between killer and victim. One that must be done with careful precision for it to be right. The important thing was the silence. There could never be words spoken. You don’t communicate with your victim. The victim was meat.

     This one lay
on the ground sobbing, trying to crawl away. His son had done him proud, cutting exactly where he’d taught the boy. Now it was his turn. As the girl crawled and sobbed, he walked behind her with the hatchet and knelt down, grabbing her calf with one hand, and hacking her leg off at the knee with the other. Her screams drowned out the squishy, crunching sound as he hacked away. After several whacks, the leg was off completely.

     He held it up and showed it to the kids as the woman continued to scream and cry. His daughter walked over with the blowtorch and sealed the wound before she bled too much. The woman thrashed and kicked about, but the man held her in place.
Once it was sealed, he took the severed leg over to the boy and poked it at him, teasing him with it. The boy giggled, which was the first sound he’d made all night.

     The woman had stopped screaming. The Mask walked over and examined her and saw she was still alive, only passed out. He sat the blood
y leg down, walked to the other leg and did the same thing to that leg, hacking it off at the knee. The woman had shot awake as he hacked into her leg, screaming again. His girl also sealed that wound with the blow torch.

     As The Mask was walking toward his son, the boy picked up the other leg and ran toward him. The Mask held his leg out like a sword with one hand as his boy did the same.
They danced around play sword fighting with the severed legs. The boy giggled again as they played, poking and swatting at each other with the limbs.

     The Mask looked at the girl who was watching them. She almost looked amused at the spectacle. They walked over to a table in the corner and slid it to the center of the room. The two kids brought chairs over and sat down a few feet in front of the woman. The Mask held one of the legs off to the side as the girl fired up the blowtorch. He held the leg over the flame, rotating it around until after a minute or two, there was a pop and crackle of cooking meat. The leg turned golden brown as he placed it on the table, and did the same with the other leg.

     Once both were cooked, the kids took their place at the table. The Mask took one of the big knives and carved one of the legs as if he were carving a turkey, slicing off long pieces of meat. He gave the kids each several slices. They all lifted their masks just slightly and began to eat. This was an important part of the ritual. While the prey was nothing but meat, their flesh was still sacred. It was necessary to eat the flesh of the prey, so they might gain strength. Plus, this prey will now always be a part of them.

     Once they finished the meat, The Mask sliced up the other leg. This time he got up wit
h a handful of the cooked flesh, walked over to the woman who was still on the ground sobbing. He grabbed her by the hair, offering her the meat. She closed her mouth and pulled away. He tried to shove it into her mouth, but she wouldn’t open. He looked at his daughter and jerked his head in a quick motion. The girl grabbed the blowtorch and stepped behind him, straddling the woman. She turned on the blowtorch, touching the flame to her buttocks. As expected, the woman screamed.

     He shoved the meat into her mouth and pressed it shut with his one hand on top of her head, the other pressing in her jaw. It took a few minutes, but little by little she swallowed the meat. There was no real purpose to this, other than The Mask got a kick out of watching them eat their own flesh.

     Once that was done, he started on the next phase of the ritual. Grabbing the hatchet again, this time he grabbed her arm and hacked it off at the bicep. She screamed and cried as he hacked the arm off and as the girl sealed it with the blow torch. He went and hacked off the other one as well letting the girl seal off that one. This time, he stacked the two limbs onto the table.

     Walking over to the cart, he replaced the bloody hatche
t with a large knife. The woman continued to scream but she was completely helpless by now.

     “No, please! No more! I can’t take anymore! Just kill me, please!” She cried and sobbed, but none of her tormenters paid her any attention. The man came over behind her, straddled her back as he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back. He reached up with the knife, and sliced through her forehead, scalping her, cutting and tearing the top of her head off and al
l her hair attached to the skin. He held up the hair and handed it to his daughter.

     The woman continued screaming and sobbing as the girl took the scalp and placed it on her head. She mockingly brushed it out of her face, still covered by the mask. She walked back and forth like a model on the runway, tossing the scalped hair to the side. The boy jumped up and down again clapping.
The woman lay on the ground sobbing silently. She had stopped begging at this point. The Mask was glad, since the begging would do no good. He was proud of his children. They would make good Masks one day themselves.

     Finally, he reached down with the knife and pulled her head back by the chin. As he did so, he began cutting along her neck. The woman gagged and gurgled as blood sprayed all over the floor. In a few moments she was silent as he continued cutting away with the knife until her head rolled away from her body. The Mask rolled it toward his son, who began kicking it along like a soccer ball.

     His daughter ran over and attempted to make a soccer-style steal but the boy got passed her, and kicked the head hard, sending it sailing into the wall, where it split open. Blood and brains poured onto the floor. The boy looked at The Mask, and held his hands out, shrugging his shoulders. The Mask gave the boy a thumbs up as he went back to work on the woman’s body with the knife.

 

Chapter 4

 

     Eddie Mason pulled the minivan into the garage and let the door close behind him. It was early in the morning, but he saw the light come on in the house as soon as he pulled up. The kids were both asleep. He woke them both up, as he slung his rifle over his back and grabbed the large cooler from the back of the van.

     “
Brandi, help your brother in please,” Eddie said.

     “I’m tired. Can’t he just walk?” She scoffed.

     “We’re all tired. You don’t have to carry him, just guide him in.”

     She rolled her eyes and helped Jeffrey out of his booster seat. He stumbled along next to her as she held him by the shoulder, following Eddie inside the house. As Eddie stepped inside, his wife, Margie was standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed.

     “So how was the trip?” She asked.

     “It was good. We got one. I cleaned it out in the field, so we’ll have meat for
a while.”

     “We’re going to eat one of those nasty boar things?”

     “They’re hogs, just wild hogs. They eat the same things regular hogs do, but this doesn’t cost anything.”

     “It’s still disgusting. You can cook it. I’m not eating that shit. And I really don’t like you taking the kids on these hunting trips. What if one of them gets shot?”

     “They’re not going to get shot. They don’t even handle the gun. We camp, we have a bonfire, and they watch me shoot a hog and clean it. They love it.”

     “I don’t
like it. And that thing stinks. I can smell it from here. You going to put that in the freezer?” She asked.

     “Yes. I’ll go do that right now.” He said as he walked the cooler into the back. She followed him into the utility room where the deep freeze sat. He opened the cooler and stacked each cut into the freezer. He’d wrapped everything. He had roast, steaks, chops, and several others.

     “Why didn’t you take your boots off before coming inside? You’re tracking mud all over the house.” Margie cackled from behind him. “Did you put gas back in the van? I have to get groceries later and don’t want to mess with filling it up.  You know I hate pumping gas. Oh god, that van is going to smell like pig shit isn’t it? Please tell me you got an air freshener?”

     He stopped loading as he was leaned over into the freezer and looked straight ahead. He hated being Eddie. Sadly he was Eddie more than he was The Mask. He’d reverse it in a second if he could. Margie hadn’t been like this when they got married ten years ago. She had been fun and enjoyed life. Somewhere along the way, she became angry and bitter. Now she blames Eddie for everything wrong in her life, or anywhere else for that matter.

     He wished he could introduce her to The Mask, but that would not be wise. The Mask was smart, slick and stayed below the radar. Killing his bitch of a wife would draw too much attention on him. No, The Mask had to stay secret for now. He knew the kids would be quiet. They couldn’t stand their mom either. That was why he’d stayed. As long as he’s there, she’d focus her anger on him.

     “Did you ever call that place about the job you applied for? I mean, you’ve only been out of work almost a year now. It would be nice to not be the only one earning a paycheck around here,” Margie continued. “My god, I should have listened to my mom. She warned me you were a fucking loser. But no, I thought you were this smart computer guy. That’s great if you’re from fucking India!”

     He went back to putting the meat away, wishing she would just shut up, but she wouldn’t. She never stops, ever. Finally, he finished putting away the meat and closed the freezer. She was still going on about something. He walked back to the garage and kicked off his boots, put the rifle away in the cabinet and leaned against his work bench, happy that she stayed inside. He would have to schedule another outing with the kids soon.

     Margie’s outbursts had been getting worse. They were happening more frequently and lasting longer. He’d asked
her before if she’d get counseling but that just set her off into one of her most explosive fits yet. That was the first time she’d hit him or started throwing things. He was amazed he didn’t harbor more rage than he actually did though his excursions as The Mask probably helped a lot with that.

     When he cut up the girl last night, he would fantasize that it was Margie. That’s why he took the tape off. He enjoyed the screams, relished it even. Eating the flesh with the kids wa
s an important bonding ritual, one that would always bind them together. It was different than what he had planned for tonight. Eating meat fresh off the prey while they watched was a special feeling.

     Alt
hough tonight would be special, too; he would make steaks for the whole family. What Margie didn’t know, is she would be eating another human. The thought made him smile. He’d even cook it extra tough, and pray the bitch choked.

 

Chapter 5

 

     Julie sat at her desk looking over the crime scene photos from the strip club as well as the inventory list of the victim’s purse contents. The girl’s name is Carla Gonzales, 27 year old single mom. She’d been working at The Chesty Chola for a little over a year. Julie shook her head at the club’s name; whoever had named that place needed to be shot. As Julie looked through the contents list of Carla’s purse, there was one item that caught her attention.

     Carla’s phone was still in her purse. That told her
something was wrong for sure. No woman would go anywhere without her phone. Not on purpose anyway. Someone had to have grabbed her. It was just a matter of figuring out who or why. She took the list and the photos to her captain’s office. He had told her earlier not to waste too much time on a missing persons case like this. Captain Johnson was sitting at his desk pretending to be doing paperwork. She stepped inside.

     “Julie, what can I do for you?” He said. He looked like he hadn’t slept for some reason. His eyes had bags under them, and his white hair looked as if it had been pasted into place.

     “On this missing person I got this morning…” she began.

     “Right, the stripper.”

     “She’s not a stripper. She’s a waitress. I was going through the inventory of her belongings. Her phone was still in her bag. Girls don’t just leave their phones if they are going somewhere, especially with a strange guy.”

     He took the list, put on his reading glasses, and looked it up and down.

     “There was also blood near her purse.” She handed him the photos.

     “Hmm, you have a point.
You have anything else?”

     “No sir. Just these things.”

     “Ok. See what you can follow up with. Talk to her family, friends; see if she had problems with anyone. If this was random, it will be hard unless we find a body somewhere. Take Ben with you. He’s worked these cases before.”

     Instantly, she felt sick to her stomach.

     “Ben? Why would I take him?”

     “This is your first case. He’s had experience with this kind of thing.”

     “But he’s a fucking asshole,” she said.

     He took off his glasses and leaned forward.

     “Yes, I know. But he knows his stuff. I’ll talk to him, and make sure he doesn’t give you any shit. Just remember the point here is to find this girl.”

     She grabbed the papers and photos back and headed out to her desk. About ten minutes later, Ben came up behind her.

     “So how’s it going partner?” He asked.

     “I’m not your partner. You’re helping me on this one case,” she said.

     “Same thing. So looks like we’ll be working pretty closely together. We should discuss the case over dinner tonight.”

     “Seriously, you need to cut that shit out. I’m not kidding. I have no interest in you, at all. No
t even a little. In fact, I cannot even begin to explain the depths in which I don’t desire you, like I would rather drink my own piss than have any physical contact with you whatsoever.” She said.

     “Damn, you’re harsh. So when do we get started?”

     “Tomorrow. It’s been a long day. I’m gonna go home and look this stuff over.”

     “Whatever,” he said and walked off. She grabbed her things and headed to her car. She felt exhausted. On the drive home, the weight of the case began sinking in to her. A woman’s life could be on the line, depending on her. She pulled into the parking lot and turned the car off. She walked up the stairs to her apartment, but the door swung open before she could put the key in. Her girlfriend Sarah was standing in the doorway.

     “Hey babe!” Sarah said.

     “Hey!” Julie leaned in and kissed her. “I thought you had to work today.”

     “No, it was slow, so they sent me home.” Sarah worked a local bar and grill, so sometimes her hours varied. No one at the police department knew about their relationship. Despite more and more acceptance toward gays and lesbians, Julie still didn’t feel comfortable about revealing that part of her life, especially with assholes like Ben around.

     Julie walked into the apartment and put her bag down.
She sat on the couch, kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the ottoman. Sarah had the TV on already; some kind of cooking show was playing. Julie never cared for those shows, they only made her hungry. Before she could even see what they were cooking, she fell fast asleep.

 

 

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