The Rain
Feb 07 '08 (Updated Feb 09 '08)
The Bottom Line Completed it with a twist ending!
The Rain
Joseph Ziehm
The rain beats down and the wind howls out loudly the calling of a symphony which always is breathless and escapeless. The mud always seems to crawl up inch by inch until the hip waders are needed. It is a lonely and lost cause in a long and painful life a man due not to be remembered. Going to town every now and again no true friends slowly killing himself with screw drivers and shots. Desiring little contact outside of the world he is never terrified. Using the sleeping pills he coaxes young men and women then chops them to pieces and places all that is left inside a vat of quick lime. Drifters mostly and call girls many on the outside look at him as a once respected but now drunken doctor. Outside, the rain pours down harder as he gently lies back to sleep. For him creating horror is all that much of a greater good. Yesterday he killed four women and a fifteen-year old boy it was something which he needed.
It comes down harder and harder pouring down upon the world and the mud which he treks through everyday. Inside of the oven is the eyeball which he is not yet ready to devour he believes that it increases his sight and always has. The quick lime dissolves away the bodies but first using a spoon he plucks out the eye. A beautiful woman examines him usually measuring him off as quite handsome. It never bothers him to kill them after the act he feels refreshed after either eating the eyeballs cold or carefully applying chocolate or mustard. What was her name and why had she come here tonight? Would anyone truly care about another street walker? It continues to pour down as he hears the creaks and cracks of his house settling. Is there truly anything that can or will stop him murdering?
The mud and the hip waders he is not a personification of what society views as the serial killer he is not impulsive and desires only remaining unknown. Trophies are gone with nothing else remaining within the entire spectrum of his ego it is not himself to allow public images. As a doctor he first killed an eighty year old woman by breaking her neck and manging to turn it into an accident. Is there truthfully anyway that will ever awaken his senses toward adventure? Could he have felt a better impulse toward his own share of profit? A young woman lies bound and tied in his bed room and he relishes what he will do to her tonight. Does she know when the sleeping aids wear off what she will endure? The receipts are from a local pharmacy where he buys them over the counter along with the pain killers.
Eyes are the soul he believes and what has kept him young and youthful. Can he feel the pain of those he has murdered without looking back? Does the rain represent the innocence lost with everyone that he has killed? Can the dissolving bodies feel the pain that he has inflicted upon them? It is a small junction of a home in Jackman where he has put around his personal border. Every now and then he engages in the local political races. Driving he travels for them it's to dangerous to grab anyone from town he'll be found and most of it goes without saying. Forensics can do nothing compared to bleach and quick lime the thoughts are meticulous and separate outside factors which could urge him otherwise.
There is only the kitchen and bedroom he does not believe in electric power due to the cancer it caused in some of his patience. She does not cry and why is she not crying yet? Can she know what will become of her? A thousand dollars a simple price tag to lose your life upon. So willing to sell herself that it was no small problem in injecting her once she had climbed inside of the car. He throws away the modern inconveniences of computers and televisions instead relying upon the papers and the missing persons reports by his digital scanner. Know one has ever suspected the formally kind doctor of the cold blood murders and bodies which now sit around his cabin. Going into the bedroom he plucks out her eye ball with his trusted spoon and then as she's screaming jams the ice pick through her other eye.
The delicate tastes can no longer wait in an instant he consumes the eye. Looking down at her he scoops up the body, brings it to the quick lime barrel and tosses it in, and he enjoys dumping their bodies yearly at a local co-op when the parts are found everyone wonders what DNA lies in them. However, even the trained eyes cannot find them and then he remembers to quickly remove the ice pick. It is better this way they only feel it for a second but he plays God as the rain pours down. It was something which he was not allowed to do under medical practices although some of the bodies he keeps as he carefully tweaks them and finds ways to either kill them or modify their structures. Slinking back into the bedroom he falls asleep under the covers of his own ill hatred.
Chapter II
The rain pours down and he has resumed the hunt this time invited to a convention in Los Angeles. Finding another hotel room he has done much the same as six gang members have gone missing. The eyes are bitter and taste like vinegar now even with the chocolate bath which he usually gives them. Outside, the weather is a miserable collection of hot and cold. Know one asks him about his personal life nor why he has not married for the past fifteen years. Any woman that he finds worthy of marrying must die for in their veins lies the stupidity of not truly knowing him. The last woman to have gotten so close was a teacher of Asian-American studies at Baltimore how delicate she was Shelly Kagoshima he remembers the tastes of her well. First body which he had ever modified and she had fit well her brain no longer supplying enough intelligence to even utter a single syllable she needed to die in such that way as she believed in others being inferior.
Parts are usually found but little more then fractures and or destroyed eye balls. That is his quest and he has performed well in savoring the taste of their souls. Sitting back in bed he has not watched the news nor does he know what the rain is bringing. In other states the dead of the country are tearing up through the ground murder victims and bystanders in an endless train. Coming to consume those who have killed them their anger greater then the guilt of any killer. But, he is different not giving his victims any chance he hears the door knocker. The rain pours down he opens it to a decomposing Shelly and jumping back nearly tripping over his bed he grabs the machete from next to his bed and runs her through. Blood pours of her mouth and he cuts her head off decapitating her.
Running outside he sees others being chased and grins he has finally released what he'd always wanted done. The rain pours down he locks the door and barricades himself inside of his room. Kicking and screaming he turns on the door turning up the television and muting out those who are crying. He chops apart Shelly as they announce the numbers of the dead which are rising and he enjoys the rain. Blanketing the earth it is as he had always wanted it. When the thunder crashes he nearly jumps a mile only one thing which has truthfully ever terrified him is thunder and lightning the thoughts of being zapped to a crisp by one bolt has always done that to him. Crying outside again and he checks the small door peep-hole and sees a young woman being chased down and shredded to pieces by five of them. Rain still pours down on them as a blood rain flies up and out of the poor, poor womans body.
Another flash of lightning and the power goes out hiding underneath the bed he falls asleep until three hours later. It continues to rain but now the generator has flickered on the last remaining surge of power. Cameras circle around and show the zombies running about the streets he smiles as they create their dreaded blood rain from ripping and shredding off the bones of others. More cries outside and gun shots he looks outside to see a local police department setting up it's officers. For a tactical strike from behind they are torn to shreds by those who had lain in wait. Crying out he sits down and resumes watching the news and the rain still pours down. Another flash of lightning and this time he starts a small wallowing cry of fear. Since a child he's always feared the lighting, and the thunder which follows well behind it. A heavy rumbling and trembling fear of being vaporized he has the little fridge which will do well in servicing his food needs at least for a week. He does not mind other innocents dying for his sins it does not matter to him soon he will open the door and will allow himself one of the living. A wail and a cry he finally opens the door and finds himself another victim locking the door behind them he makes short work of them decapitating them and then eating their eye ball by plucking it out. A simple room really with a living room, smaller kitchen area, and a bathroom.
It's all just a dream though he wakes up in bed alone as the television goes on and on about infomercials. Last night he was watching a pitiful excuse of a homosexual marriage he killed both men and sent their bodies through a trash compactor. The rain continues to pour down and there's nothing really left to discover about him. Choices were made after he'd decided to continue his hobby and he relished in it. Convention is boring tomorrow he returns to Maine without little more then a glimpse back. No serial killer really follows a convention of mechanic they always choose different angles to go about their business.
Part I
It's raining out as he resumes his hunt and stalks down a fifteen year old girl as she slowly walks through town he remains out of sight and contact. Interacting within the community and watching her carefully she goes home and he sniffs the air. It's ripe and Conway New Hampshire has finally become one of his stalking grounds a hundred missing persons reports have been filed and he's still alive. When he consumes her eye it means that he will gain her soul it has always been this way. The summer heat is opperserve and he despises the three piece suit which is almost like a life long sentence how many more conventions will he have to attend?
That delicate skin and the way she carries herself he think of devouring her whole and doesn't think about looking back. Or, perhaps he could return to Maine and resume the hunt in Augusta or Waterville trying to find one of their street walkers. It's the nature of his mind just so long as know one discovers him he will remain. Why did he become like this and how has it effected the world? The writing is on the wall he's always been like this consumed by his own bitterness. He buys a hot dog and soda from a local vendor before spying a college student with a large bag. Walking toward her they discuss politics, the nature of bed room conversation, and then he takes her back to his smaller cottage which he had bought.
No painkillers or sleeping pills he scoops out her eye and slits her throat. A silent scream as her mouth fills with blood he slowly starts to eat her fingers. Stopping there he dumps the body into the quick lime and she dissolves it will take at least two days for this to happen. In public they will say he was with her if that is at all what they had seen. Removing the beard, eye lashes, and the mustache he smiles to himself they will be chasing after ghosts again. Foolishness they were never meant to know what he was capable of.
Lie back let the wolf hunt the sheep and remain away from him. The public doesn't know about his little hunts ranging from state to state he has killed from Maine, Florida, Los Angeles, Vegas, and Manhattan he is never known. Papers rarely cover him except for missing persons reports. He converses with himself about his next target and how the next eye ball will taste and he remembers the fifteen year old no he won't hold back from his sexual desires of her.
Part II
Waiting for her inside of the Roy's a morning joint which serves coffee twenty four hours a day as well sandwiches looks like being stood up isn't just another reason of not wanting to blend in and confirm to society. The weather outside is cold and right now Lucas Janson sips at his coffee and reads the newspaper headlines regarding local teams and the the hot temper of a former British actress. Ordering up a roast beef with hot peppers he shakes the exhaustion out. She leaves him a text message on his cell phone stating that she has gotten back together with an ex boyfriend. Rest has not come easily for him he paces the floor constantly always looking for the next sucker to go into his acts about selling card insurance and getting his comission. Lewiston is a cold and lonly place few hundred feet away is the theater which he was going to treat her too. Walking outside he shivers a little bit in the cold and points his nose down and starts to cry.
What is that sound it sounds like a wolf? How did a wolf manage to get into the city? Shaking his head and regarding it as nothing and little more then his imagnation he looks up and sees a woman at the window of a couple of high school kids. She might just be a street walker and the guys are soaking in her body right now. As he walks toward his car he thinks he hears a cry and ignores it shaking his head. Opening the door to his seventie-one Lemans he climbs inside and looks down shaking his head starting his car up he leaves and sees the girl coming toward him. Driving away she starts to run and starts chasing his car down as he drives onto I-95 he drives toward the high way and leaves her behind. In the car however, two boys are dead, eyes ate fresh out of their skull, and this woman has become Cerbus incarnate. Disguising herself as such she now stalks through during her hunting time she does not believe in destroying all life but believes in herself being the only one that should survive.
He had not seen her and the good doctor steps to his side he is much younger she has shared her blood with him and transformed him into a vampire he grins as they drive the teenagers car away. Bringing it toward Harpswell they push it off of a dock and dispose of the bodies in his basement using the boiling quick lime. Wooed them and then brutally excated her revenge upon how the world had sinned. Enjoyed hunting down gang members, sexual predators such as those two, and killing those who had committeed murder without being proven guilty but knowing the extent of the crimes. He provided her with the information and she thanked him very kindly for it with her love and undying devotion for he had brought her back to life. Starting to rain again they are like young lovers soaking in the laughter, love, and the prayers which they utter. Charles Goldman is a doctor who formally had watched drug dealers, pimps, and street walkers killing each other he could no longer endure it and devoted himself toward bringing back Cerbus and returning her full goals of destroying every sinner in sight.
The little coward who had pulled off was a nobody he hadn't realized what had happened. Both of them had taken a girl from a sand pit in Lisbon three years ago, had her fun after using GHB, and then laughed as they could not be sentanced due to lack of evidence. Charles she calls him Gaberial the bloodiest and most enduring of all angels he refuses to adopt in the new testament practices. Both of them lay laughing glancing into each others eyes, kissing, huging, and laughing as she whispers poetry into his ears. Looking into his eyes she sees the evil that he has done and lied about as being pure of heart to bring her about eats him whole in one bite as he screams. Cerbus is fed now she turns into a three headed dog and runs out of the bedroom howling up at the moon and begging for forgiveness.
The End
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Epinions.com ID:
Klaxon_Oil
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Member: Joseph Ziehm
Location: Lisbon Maine United States
Reviews written: 190
Trusted by: 8 members
About Me:
I'm back to being who I am going back to coaching, writing, and help out.
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