AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mother found me crying with George’s body still in my hands. She reminded me that I am darkness, the son of the devil. She told me that I will always taint and kill the things around me because I was never meant to have love.
As much as I want to keep Summer and Gabe, I know just like George, I will one day hurt them. Even if I’d rather die than cause them any pain. I am evil, and evil does not get the benefits of being loved.
chapter Thirty-one
Henry Parks
Beast
Three days after killing Timothy Smith, I still didn’t have the answers I was looking for. There was nothing online that referenced that symbol. In fact, every time I looked it up I got articles about the Illuminati.
The only images I’ve found are on gravestones. But no reference to what it was. My frustrations were growing.
“It’s not the only thing bothering you,” Priest says in my head.
I toss the hammer onto the nightstand, walking away from the body lying on the bed.
She loves me. Although Summer has not repeated the words to me since that night, they continue to play back in my head.
“You’re going to ruin her. You’ll kill her just like you did George,” Mother taunts.
“She’s lying. You know that, Kid. You’re capable of love.”
I want to believe Priest, but every time I shut my eyes, I see her bloody body in my arms the same way George’s was.
My phone ringing startles me out of my thoughts. I glance down at the screen before answering.
“It’s been a minute,” I say to the man on the other end of the phone. Walking over to the dresser, I pulled my laptop out of the black duffle. After connecting my phone to the computer, I go to the recording app.
His laughter flows through the speaker. “I was giving you space. You’ve been busy. After the douchebag, you killed the tramp that was with him that night, and the leggy waitress that served your table. Both quick and simple kills. Is there a reason for that?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
The night I killed the call girl and the waitress, Summer asked me to not be out late because she wanted to watch the next episode of Game of Thrones. My quick kills were so I didn’t keep her waiting.
“Hmmm,” he hums. “You made up for those two kills with the Trucker. He didn’t like you much. He thought you were abusing the girl and called you a few filthy names.”
I don’t tell the benefactor that it was because of those names I gutted him with a jigsaw.
“Did you call me just to discuss my kills?”
He chuckles. “You’re talented. I have to admit,” he says. “I’m quite jealous of your skill. Your eye for detail and creativity is unmatched. Even the way you channel your rage into your kills. You are a rare breed. Almost as rare as the green eyes you inherited.”
“Oddly enough, my son didn’t get them,” I say casually.
He laughs. “Don’t feel bad most don’t.”
The line goes silent, but I know he hasn’t discontented. I wait patiently for him to speak again. I don’t have long to wait.
“You know what baffles me the most about you?” he says, sounding as if he’s genuinely asking a question. “I can’t figure out how you ended up at the Church. How did you slip through the hands?”
“Whose hands did I slip through?”
He chuckles. “Good question, I know you will figure it out eventually.”
“Is this still a friendly call, or have you made your decision yet?” I ask once again if he’s friend or foe?
He’s silent. “I’m still undecided. I’ll let you get back to your tasks. But be mindful, the clock is ticking.” The line clicks letting me know the benefactor is gone.
