A blend of an odd dream I had, an audiobook I’m listening to and a movie that Suzy made me watch part of inspired the beginnings of this story. It’s pretty dark. Lemme know what you think.
I never saw the face of the man that destroyed my childhood and made my life into something entirely unexpected until he was lying dead at my feet in the middle of the South Carolina woods with a pool of blood spreading out from the back of his head. Up until I leaned over, and with fear-palsied fingers pulled the ski mask and sunglasses off his face, I had no idea what the man who had controlled my every moment for six months looked like. Aside from the unfamiliarity of the face, the sheer blandness of his features took me aback.
This man, who had taken me prisoner, made me into something I never imagined I could be, and had now ultimately died at my hands, looked like nothing. Not even the pudgy innocuousness of a Gacy or the rakish handsomeness of a Bundy. He looked like nothing. Completely normal. Medium blue-grey eyes, mousy brown hair, slightly out of date chin beard. Nothing to distinguish him from thousands of other suburban soccer dads out there in the wide world. Nothing to make anyone think that he might be evil personified.
I stood there with a tree branch in my numb fingers for a while, I don’t really know how long, until finally I threw the branch down next to his body, which was starting to ooze other fluids than blood as the bowels and bladder released with death, and I walked out of the woods and tried to find my way back to something like daylight.
