Through Brian's Eyes Read online

  *****

  Kinkaid told Adam’s parents that he was going to hit the sack early tonight in the hopes that they would follow suit. His scheme worked, and Adam’s parents climbed the stairs to enter their bedroom before he did which was perfect. Before retiring to his bedroom, he crept into the garage and grabbed a flashlight, stashing it in his pocket. He switched off the lights downstairs then climbed the stairs.

  He closed the door to Adam’s bedroom and set the flashlight on the bed. Next, he emptied Adam’s backpack into one of the drawers of his dresser. He filled it with the flashlight, a complete change of Adam's worn clothes, and a couple of towels. Then he set the backpack by the bedroom door. To throw off any suspicion, he left the bedroom and said goodnight to Adam’s parents.

  He entered the bathroom and pretended to wash himself and brush his teeth. Actually performing these tasks would be unnecessary tonight. If he was lucky, he’d be drenched in the blood of a fresh victim.

  Back in the bedroom, he took off his shoes, climbed into bed fully clothed, and listened. He kept his eyes wide open as he waited for Adam’s parents to begin their slumber. Forty-five minutes passed before their room became silent, much to his relief. He continued lying in bed, with the patience of Job, and watch the minutes tick by. It felt like watching flowers grow. Although he didn’t hear anything else from their bedroom, he laid in the bed for another twenty minutes of excruciating silence to ensure they were asleep.

  It was time.

  He eased out of bed and tried to avoid every creaky floorboard he could. In the dark, he slipped on his shoes and felt his way to the door. He reached for the backpack on the floor, grabbed it, and slipped it over his shoulders. He waited by the door for a few minutes, listening. Their bedroom was still quiet. Brian twisted the doorknob and opened it just enough to peek into the hallway. The coast was clear. He opened the door wider hoping it wouldn’t squeak. He stepped into the darkened hallway and closed the bedroom door with a gentle touch. The only light source came from a streetlight that shown through a crack in the curtains of the downstairs windows. The hallway carpet subdued his footsteps, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t avoid the creaks from some of the hallway floorboards.

  He made his way downstairs without being heard. Taking a detour through the kitchen, he stopped at the counter and pulled the nine-inch butcher’s blade from the wooden block, wrapped it in one of his towels, and placed it in the backpack. He paused once again and listened. Still no sounds from upstairs. He exited the house via the front door and stepped out into the warm night air, closing the door behind him without locking it.

  Kinkaid was free once again…free to resume the carnage he began…free to get revenge on those who condemned him…free to terrorize the town that turned its back on him. He moved through the darkened neighborhood streets, passing beneath the soft yellow glow of the street lights, heading in the direction of the shops on Catherine Avenue across from the cemetery.

  Giddy with the excitement of killing once more, he quickened his pace. He convinced himself that some poor soul would be walking the streets this late, heading towards a destination they’d never reach. Or maybe someone was waiting on a bus they would never ride. He didn’t care who it was. All he wanted was to regain that feeling of power once again. He was determined to kill tonight. He could taste it and it was delicious. Memories of his past murders swept through his mind in an endless loop of exquisite suffering, much to his joy.

  As he turned the corner, leaving the slumbering neighborhood of Elwood Drive behind him, a sparse parade of cars whisked by in both directions along Catherine Avenue. For Kinkaid, it was a lottery of victims, and the winner would be the one that left the comfort of their vehicle. He continued walking, staying in the shadows as best he could. With it being so late, if the police spotted a kid wandering the street, it may raise too much suspicion. It was his preference tonight not to have a cop as a victim.

  The shops were a couple of blocks away, and he paused behind trees and sidewalk business signs in search of a victim as he crept forward. It was a quiet night, and so far, no one was walking or stopping their vehicle. This only heightened his anticipation. He was ready to release his full wrath on any victim, whomever it was. There would be unspeakable horror reminiscent of Mary Kelly’s gruesome murder by Jack the Ripper, his personal idol.

  He crossed Catherine Avenue wanting to get a closer look at the shops to see if anyone was working late. They were a block away now and still no one was on the street, to his great disappointment. His senses were heightened as his predatory nature began to dominate.

  Up the street, a light from one of the shop’s windows spread across the sidewalk. Could someone be working late or is it from some damn illuminated store display?

  He quickened his pace, staying in the shadows. His chest heaved in and out as he approached the dim light basting the sidewalk. At the edge of the window, he ducked down to get a gander inside.

  There was a glow emanating from the rear of a flower shop. The main lights up front were switched off. He could feel a small rush of adrenaline which put a grin on his face. It had been a long time since he’d had that feeling. If only he could see a shadow moving around. Minutes passed but there was no movement, just the glow. A car came around the corner, heading in his direction, breaking his concentration. He crouched down lower hoping its headlights would miss him. He watched the car approach, then decelerate as it neared him. If this person stopped and got out of their car, he would have his victim, but the car cruised by and he didn’t know if the driver had spotted him or not. His eyes followed the car. Its brake lights came on. What’s this driver going to do? Then the brake lights went out and the car pulled off down the street. He exhaled slowly unsure if he should be relieved or not. He focused back on the light emanating from the back room of the shop, still wondering if anyone was inside.

  For a moment, he thought he saw a shadow move. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? His pent-up energy needed a vessel for release. He continued concentrating on the back room. There it was again, and he was sure this time. A shadow appeared, hovered for a bit, then disappeared. His giddiness returned. Some unlucky son-of-a-bitch wrongly decided to stick around after work. What could they be doing? Counting the day’s receipts, setting up a liaison for an affair, or embezzling money? It didn’t really matter. Today was their last day to do anything. He stayed put, and waited patiently.

  The light switched off. His body tingled with anticipation. He rose up and stepped back. He removed the towel with the butcher's knife from his backpack and waited. He backed up a little more until he heard the shop door open. A dark figure stepped out and began walking away from him. He moved under a streetlight and began following the woman with the towel concealing the knife in his hand. The figure stopped under a streetlight and turned towards him, allowing him to see her face. She was young and gorgeous with smooth, dark chocolate skin, red lipstick, almond eyes with long eyelashes, and wavy shoulder length hair. Her frame placed her only a few inches taller than himself, and she was carrying a satchel. He figured it was probably the day’s take from the cash register. He said hello using the most pleasant voice he could, and kept walking towards her. She responded to his greeting and continued walking. She seemed friendly enough. Her pace never wavered and they participated in a bit of banter about the nice weather this evening. She seemed unafraid, and for good reason. The last bad thing to happen in Southern Pines was his own reign of terror almost two years ago. She said goodnight and turned into a small parking lot between two storefronts. Across the street, he could see the short, black iron-wrought gate surrounding the cemetery.

  As she headed towards the only car in the parking lot, he quietly jogged up behind her unsheathing the large butcher knife from the towel. He yielded the knife high above his head as she went to grab the door handle. With a single plunge, he embedded the blade deep into the back of her neck, severing her spinal cord immediately. A grin emerged on his face as she arched
her back. Then her head drooped forward, and she collapsed onto the ground face down. He enjoyed the feeling of resistance as he removed the blade from her bloody neck, trying not to get any spatter on his clothes. Once again, he swung the blade out to the side and jabbed it into the right side of her rib cage, feeling more resistance from skin, muscles, and organs as he pushed it deeper into her body. He paused and closed his eyes in orgasmic ecstasy, her dying groans adding to his pleasure. He withdrew the blade and stepped back watching her blood leak onto the pavement. Once again, he straddled her and swung the blade downward just to the left of her spine, cracking her ribs enough to penetrate her young heart. The vibration of the blade massacring her ribs was the best feeling yet. When he removed the blade, a small fountain of blood arched over her back. He stood up and stepped back again. He wanted more…much, much more, but his ghoulish ride had come to an end for tonight.

  He was back, and in excellent form. He looked at his clothes and noticed some blood splatter on his shirt, but his dark jeans hid any traces of it. It was time to change clothes, ditch them, and clean the knife. He regretted not being able to watch the young woman pass from this world onto the next. He stepped towards her to get one last look, catching a glimpse of the reflected light on the edges of the pooling blood. He was mostly satisfied with the results, however, he regretted not having the chance to remove large hunks of flesh from her body. Deep in his heart, he really wished he had the time to dissect her.

  His new, smaller body was quicker but not as strong, and it would take a few more kills for him to get used to it. He left her corpse and began jogging back home, staying in the shadows as much as he could.

  As he turned the corner from Catherine Avenue onto Elwood Drive, he spotted a plastic trash can sitting on the side of a house. He crept up the driveway and changed his clothes, using them to wipe the blood from the large knife. Then he tossed the blood-stained clothes in the trash can. He crept down the driveway with the stealth of a feral feline and headed for his house.

  All the lights were still off. He moved to the front door he’d left unlocked earlier and opened it. It creaked lightly and he stopped, listening for any movements inside. When he felt comfortable, he pushed the door further. Once inside, he closed it, locked it, and headed into the kitchen. He turned on the faucet allowing a small stream of water to fall on the knife blade, removing as much blood as he could, then he placed the blade in the dishwasher. While still in the kitchen, he removed the shoes and the clothes he’d just put on minutes ago, bundled them around the backpack, and headed upstairs to Adam’s room. Before opening Adam’s door, he listened at his parent’s bedroom door to see if anyone was stirring. Two separate tones of snoring met his ear. Satisfied, he opened Adam’s bedroom door and snuck inside. That’s when he realized how exhausted he was. He threw his clothes into his laundry basket and softly climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.