CHAPTER TEN // OWEN LUX WELSEY | PART TWO

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THE SONG TO THE SIDE -- PAROXYSM OF HAPPINESS -- IS THE FIRST SONG LUX WAS SINGING TO. THE SECOND SONG IS BY ENDLESS MELANCHOLY - WHEREVER, WHICH IS IN THE EXTERNAL LINK. 

ALL OF THE LYRICS ARE COMPLETELY MADE UP AND BELONG TO ME. DO NOT COPY/STEAL.

• † •

German and Pamela were both in my basement, tied up in chairs a few feet apart from one another. I was sitting across from both of them, watching for any signs of their body reacting since the chloroform was wearing off. A day had passed since I recklessly stopped the car at one hundred miles per hour and I still hadn’t run into Bane or received any news from him. Saturday was coming soon and I already had my two victims although I planned on killing them much earlier than originally planned. 

I lost track of time. German was sitting across from me on my left, his head hanging low with his blonde wisps covering his forehead and eyes. It swayed back and forth and it somehow reminded me of my thought articulation regarding blood. My gaze traveled to Pamela, who was slouched in an uncomfortable position on the chair to my right, her dark brown hair tangled in a bloody mess. She had suffered from blood loss from the back of her head, where there was currently a huge gash that was pleasant to look at. German had suffered the same fate, although his gash was on his forehead, just underneath his brown locks of hair, right by the trickle of blood I was mesmerized by yesterday. 

My inner demon was waiting patiently, waiting for the right moment. I noticed both of them shuffling after a few moments of rushed breaths and I knew instantly that it was time. I stood from my comfortable position on the chair and walked to the table behind me, where my assortment of knives, scissors, and other utilities that lay from size to sharpness. There was also a gun beside the knives, just in case the couple did anything frisky without my knowledge. Next to the gun was a CD Player, an idea that formed in my mind when I was driving back from the highway. 

I pressed play, listening to the lovely melody that hit my ears in less than seconds. The music was loud and overpowered my senses, only furthermore urging the deathly demon inside of me to begin my methods of torture. Their deaths were going to be quick, for I had more important things to do than drag this out. The couple was merely for entertainment purposes only, to only release the pent up anger that had built as tall as a skyscraper as soon as I found out that Lynn suspected me. 

Killing them would only make the skyscraper drop a few stories. I planned on saving all of my pent up anger for Lynn, she deserved the final grand prize. My mouth watered and my stomach jumped in excitement as I imagined her reaction when I told her that it was my fault that all of those people died. It was a pleasant thing to look forward to. 

I turned the volume down so my voice could be heard in case I wanted to talk and picked up the bucket of water underneath the table. I walked slowly towards the couple that was gradually awakening. Unfortunately they were taking too long so I dumped half of the water on German and the other half on Pamela. They both immediately woke up with startled gasps and choked unspoken words. 

“La, la, la-la, la,” I sang along with the music playing, loving that I had chosen songs that were absolutely perfect for what was about to happen. “Tell me, was your death sweet? Tell me, did it hurt? Tell me did you see the demons, the products of the devil?” I heard both of them cursing but I tuned them out and let the music fill the remaining senses I had left. I dropped the bucket on the floor and marveled at the sight of the couple exchanging alarmed, frightened glances as their faces were soaked with water. “La, la, la-la, la.”

I turned around and with a jump to my steps I creeped towards the table and settled for the pair of scissors. “Tell me, did you ever enjoy life? Tell me if you cared, if you even gave a fuck when I cried for your name,” I hummed along to the rhythm and snapped the scissors repeatedly. I walked with grace towards Pamela and dragged the cool metal across her teary, wet, face as she flinched at the contact. “La, la, la-la, la.” I dragged the scissors to her dark brown locks of hair and snipped it along with the sensual beat of the song. I ignored her sobs, shouts, and cries, and German’s useless threats that had no meaning. They were just words, after all. 

“Here I am, scissors in my hand,” I sang along, snipping more of her bloody stained hair. “Calling your name like a prayer to the devil. Tell me, is death fun, ‘cause I wanna know. I wanna know.” I stopped the teasing as Pamela flinched every time she heard the snap of scissors. I smirked, my simper wide and terrifying. Her wide eyes stared at me with fear and I knew that I had to do it. I stabbed the scissors in her thigh, seeing black for a few seconds as I heard her ear-splitting scream that made me want to do it until she lost her voice. 

She was a lost cause anyways. She only had moments left till she died from blood loss so I planned to make it as terrifying and painful and excruciating as possible.

“Here I am, bleeding out,” I continued, taking the scissors out and doing it over and over again in different spots. It was marvelous, how her annoying screechy voice matched with the beautiful song and I felt some of the anger I felt inside of me go away. “Cursing out your name ‘cause you left me. Is death fun? Tell me, tell me, please.” 

“Stop it you sick fucking bastard!” I heard German snap, through his sobs. I continued ignoring him and relished in the squishing sound of metal digging into her bloody skin. I don’t know when I stopped, or how, but I did when the song stopped and when Pamela was just a bloodied mess. She was barely breathing, her face coated with a thick mask of blood as she moaned in pain, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she struggled to breathe.

There was silence for a few seconds as German’s haggard breathing interrupted my mini-daze. “Pamela–baby,” German was a mess. His lips were coated with a mixture of blood and puke, a sight my grin widened at as I noticed that his forehead was thick with blood, sweat, and water. His skin was a deathly pale color from witnessing what I just did and I imagined briefly if Lynn would be like this, if not worse.

“Shh, it’s okay,” He feebly tried to comfort her while she sobbed in agony and I watched with amused eyes as the next song came on. 

“Don’t look back,” I laughed and sang with the mysterious singer, mentally patting myself on the back for putting these songs together. “I’m coming for you, so don’t look back. I have a knife in my hand, don’t be afraid, ‘cause death is coming to you, death is calling your name.” They had an aura that emanated fear, distraught, depression, guilt, terror and many other emotions that conflicted with each other in battle. They were all unique and I loved the look that was currently present German’s face.

His eyes were wide and full of fear one could only get after watching their loved one slowly dying and doing absolutely nothing to prevent it. His hair stuck to his forehead as he gasped, watching Pamela croak out her last words as blood bubbled out of her broken lips. 

“I–I love you–German,” She choked out.

“Baby, don’t leave me, please,” German begged and I laughed. “I love you.”

“Don’t look back ‘cause death is coming. Don’t look back. I am the devil and you are the human, I want your soul,” I grinned and danced towards the table, grabbing the knife and walking towards German as he cried. It was pathetic and marvelous in a way. Watching someone give up when it suddenly dawns on them as they realize that they aren’t going to live anymore. It was pathetic because their eyes turned from hopeful to nothing, only fear that was persistent enough to stay there until their last moments. It was marvelous because once they give up and realize they have nothing left except for death waiting with open arms, they just live back to the happy moments they encountered in their lifetime. And then I was given the opportunity to harshly rip them out of their daze by killing them. That was the truly marvelous part.

The rest of the lyrics echoed through my mind as I focused on letting out some of the anger I had built the day before and today. I recklessly mutilated his body until it was unrecognizable and until the only thing left in the room was myself and the beautiful music playing in the background. After I realized that German was dead–which was several songs later–I took a moment to sit in the chair I was originally sitting in and marveled at my artwork. 

German was a mess. There were several gashes from the knife in his body and there wasn’t a patch of skin that wasn’t coated with dark blood. Pamela was no different. Her eyes were open and staring aimlessly into the ceiling of the basement. I found myself marveling at the stark contrasts from the color of their blood. German’s was the same dark shade of red while Pamela’s was slightly brighter, with more color and vibrance. It made me wonder like I did the day before; had German done something that was deemed ‘unforgivable’ on Earth? Was that why his blood was a darker color? Pamela seemed absolutely innocent, due to the fact that her blood was a brighter shade of red.

It brought me back to my theory I had made–did the color of our blood determine and represent our actions of what we did on earth? We all had different blood types of course but it wasn’t that. That couldn’t be the reason why their blood shades were different. Was mine like that as well? I couldn’t bring myself to cut my skin open. I already had enough to do by disposing their bodies and preserving their heads in the freezer, not to mention I had to gather at least two more victims so I could drop them off at the police station at the brink of dawn on Saturday morning.

I began to work.

• † •

I was sitting in the food court, munching on a muffin while sipping on a cup of coffee. I was looking out for people that could be useful. Each person I saw was different than one another. The skin and eye color, the stark contrast between the hair, the chubbiness of the face–it was beautiful. It was amazing to see how one’s features would differentiate as each face passed through my mind like a rapid slideshow.

I didn’t realize that there was a girl in front of me until the last minute. “Hi, my name is Ambrosia.” It was an odd name for a girl like her. She seemed shorter than me as I sipped my coffee in tiny gulps, studying her face. She had wide, blue eyes that radiated innocence from afar. She had dirty blonde hair that cascaded past her shoulder and rested on her hips. Her lips were plump and seemed soft, snapping me out of my daze as she licked her lips. 

“My name is Lux,” I introduced. “Why are you sitting next to me?” Would she be apart of the massacre? She seemed averaged sized, and a bit beautiful. She had her flaws, but it would be amazing to see how far I could toy with her until she broke from insecurity.

Ambrosia blushed and bit her lip, something I took notice of. “My–um, you seemed like you needed some company.” She fumbled for an explanation.

I allowed a small smirk to settle it’s position on my lips, inwardly deciding that she would be. She did have an aura of innocence, it would be a gift to taint her with my demons. “I don’t mind.” I finished the muffin and crumbled the wrapper into a ball. “May I show you something?” 

Ambrosia seemed hesitant as she glanced around but nodded nonetheless. “Okay, where are we going?”

We are going to your own personal hell. “It’s a surprise, you are going to love it.” I smiled, knowing that she would come anyways because she was attracted to me. Women would do anything when it came to preying on men.

• † •

I was walking in the streets of New York, in one of the more secluded areas. There wasn’t that many people around and I decided to enter the club that was a few blocks down from where I currently was. I dug my hands in my front pockets and did the long walk, loving the silence. It was rare when I had complete moments to myself without my inner demon craving to be shown, so it was nice for a few minutes.

The ‘surprise’ I showed Ambrosia was really me buying her a drink which I had secretly spiked with roofies. I had no intentions on raping her, for she wasn’t my type–and it would be difficult to do so since my DNA would be everywhere–and it was too much work to clean up if I wanted to savor her head. She was currently tied in my basement with handcuffs, gagged with a ball, and blindfolded with a cloth I tied heavily on her eyes. 

I didn’t bother waiting in line and settled walking towards the front, handing the two bodyguards a load of cash while flashing them my license. “I’ll only be in here for a few moments,” I told them. It was easier to find victims in a club because most of them were half drunk and didn’t remember nothing the next morning, and since this was a private club no cameras were allowed except for the outside. 

The deep sensual hum of the bass caused goosebumps to prickle on my skin as I scanned the crowd for any prey. I was looking for innocent, drunk out of their mind women due to the fact that they were the most vulnerable type in this scenery. I tapped my fingers along with the beat, settling for leaning against the bar. They would come to me, just like Ambrosia did. Women were always lured by the mysterious, ‘bad boy’ aura, no matter how dangerous it made them truly feel. They only craved the rush and thought that I was the one that provided it. 

“Would you like anything, sir?” One of the female bartenders asked with a sultry gaze. No, I decided. It would be too difficult getting her out of here and it would rise suspicion since she did work here.

“A glass of whiskey would be fine,” I told her, blatantly ignoring her stare. I felt a presence behind me and took note of how it was a woman with teary eyes sitting down on one of the stools beside me. She seemed younger than twenty-one, obviously vulnerable and in need of comfort. Perfect.

“Are you okay?” I seeped concern into my tone and edged closer to her. Her head snapped up and she flinched at how close I was, the proximity making her flustered.

“I–I’m fine,” She stuttered, blinking rapidly and then biting her lip. The sultry waitress returned with the glass of whiskey I asked for and I paid the hefty amount, discreetly adding a small amount of roofies to it when the girl–or anyone–was looking.

“My name is Lux,” I introduced warmly, placing my hand on her back. I needed to stall for a few moments until the roofies sizzled in the glass. “What is your name?”

“Reese,” She mumbled, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. “I–um…”

“You seem like you’ve had a bad night,” I told her, making sure my lips rested just below her earlobe as my breath fanned the nape of her neck. “You look like you need a drink.” I pressed my body on hers and glanced at the glass of whiskey beside me, wincing inwardly at the contact. It wasn’t like I wasn’t attracted to women, per say I loved a woman who was confident, killed without mercy and absolutely sexy. Although my standards were too high, I wanted a woman who was exactly like me and did the same thing I did. 

I grabbed the drink and inched it towards her lips, watching with amused eyes as she hesitantly drank the whiskey in a few gulps. She surprisingly managed to drink it all without her eyes watering or having a coughing fit.

“Want to get out of here?” I placed my hand on her hip and maneuvered her out of the stool, dragging her towards the back of the club where I proceeded to exit the club, glancing around for a few seconds for any cameras. I found none and proceeded to move forward without a word, taking note of how her movements began to sway and become more distant. I didn’t bother saying nothing to comfort her, although she clutched my arm for support.

“Are you okay?” I kept up with the facade for a little longer until I was a few feet away from my car.

“I think…” Reese’s eyes fluttered open and closed. “I–I don’t feel…” Her words were an incoherent mess, a mess I didn’t bother trying to figure it out. I settled for dropping her body in the backseat, thankful that there wasn’t anyone in the alleyway to see what was happening. It was too late for anyone in the night to be browsing the streets, especially in alleyways–despite the fact that New York was a city that never slept.

“Go to sleep, Reese….”  

• † • 

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