Authors: Suzanne Steele
Dr. Anderson
“Bill, where were you last night?” Evelyn questions me as I stand at the sink and shave. My face has literally been raked over by a woman’s nails.
“I asked you a question!”
I turn and eye Evelyn and I revel in the upset I’m about to unleash on her. The look in her eyes clearly reveals to me she is scared. I’ve never looked at her this coldly.
“I think that we need to call this marriage off. Have your shit packed and out of my house today or you are going to see a side of me that you have never seen. You have been warned!”
Something about the look on my face and the tone of my voice makes her turn and leave. For once, the bitch is at a loss for words, something I have never witnessed. To put it simply, I’m scaring the fuck out of her. I can see her thoughts on her face plain as day.
Who is this man and what has he done with my fiancé?
Evelyn will find out soon enough that I have sides, much like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
The question is, how am I going to explain this to my colleagues? These scratches on my face are not only going to raise serious questions, but they are going to start rumors as well.
I’m certain the only question in Evelyn’s mind is how she ever going to live down the terrible atrocity of being dumped. To say that the honeymoon is over is an understatement. Honestly, it had never started. She is so self-centered. All of her thoughts revolve around herself and her quest for a higher social standing.
She deserves to be humiliated. She is doing nothing but using me as a rung in her ladder of success. I hate women. They’re all selfish cunts that use unsuspecting men who have worked their asses off trying to attain something good in life.
They’re whores just like that bitch last night. She fucks anyone she can so she can go give the money to a pimp. Why don’t these worthless bloodsuckers go get jobs like the rest of us?
They deserve to die. They deserve to have their throats cut and be thrown in a ditch. I’m very disappointed in myself for letting that whore escape me last night. It was unavoidable though; she fought like a full grown man. I can only hope she doesn’t prove to be my demise…
Black Rose
The florist stands behind the counter and eyes me, her customer, as she speaks. I’m certain she thinks I’m just your run-of-the-mill guy buying flowers for a woman due to the way I’m dressed. I’m in ragged jeans, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap which prevents any glimpse of my eyes and most of my facial features. I also make sure that my gaze remains downcast towards the linoleum flooring.
No one is aware I have gained the Intel I need on the pervy necrophiliac killer to set him up. A man of means such as myself can find out anything he wants to know. It was just a matter of me scouting that dating site and finding the profile that fit. The media had let it be known that the woman killed had been on that specific dating site. I was able to go and view her friends list. Immediately, when I saw the doctor’s name and the fact he was from Louisville, I started following him on a hunch.
I have to admit, I became angry when that fucking FBI agent started putting me in the same class as that geek and that is what spurred my search of him on. I have a method—a mandate from a higher calling—to rid the streets of scum. That guy is just nothing more than killer. He’s a killer with no vision and no purpose. Yes, I’m highly offended that Agent Turner put me in the same category as that loser.
I have one purpose for being in this shop and that is revealing to Anderson’s fiancée that she is marrying a killer. The florist’s voice brings me out of my thoughts.
“You do know that black roses are symbolic of more sinister things, don’t you?”
“I am an educated man and I have no need of a mere counter girl giving me a lesson in botany. Do as I ask you to do and send the flowers to Evelyn Davis at Mercy General. I want the card to read:
Evelyn, it is a time of rebirth. The truth is soon to be revealed, my love.
Yours, Dr. Bill Anderson.
“Now, do you think that you can manage that?” I sneer with an air of superiority that only the wealthy can pull off.
The poor counter girl can barely raise her eyes to me, her difficult customer. I have achieved exactly what I set out to do. I have demeaned the poor girl and now she is a nervous wreck. She can barely look up towards me, much less directly at me. This ensures that she will not be able to recall any details, details such as what I look like.
The fact that I have purposely picked a florist which lacks security cameras only further ensures I won’t be identified. I hurry and make my way back to my aunt’s home. After all, I have a wedding to attend.
I make my way back to the apartment to pick up Melanie. I hand her the bouquet of black roses with the few white ones sparsely arranged throughout them. I watch as tears well up in her eyes when she reads the card.
Though a single black rose tis his kiss of death, for her it holds no power…
For when she doth receive, tis not a mere black rose, but a bouquet thereof.
Love your husband, Charles…
If she has any reservations about the black roses and the fact that a killer gives them out, but ONLY in singles, she doesn’t show it. I have always been a man who is capable of pulling off deception in order to maintain control.
I am so good at the art that you can see me committing an offense and I will convince you that you didn’t see what you know you saw.
To say that I am a smooth operator is an understatement. There are very few people who can see past what I’m doing and into my motive of why I’m doing it. Melanie is not one of those people. It is one of the many things that intrigued me about her. She is so innocent and yet, she is nobody’s fool. We make our way downtown.
***
“Quit fidgeting, Darling, and sign the papers.”
I smile at the justice of the peace as she eyes him. It is evident that she is nervous, but, thankfully, her nervousness is speeding up the process of me being married to my obsession so I don’t care. In other words, her nervousness is working to my benefit because, right now, she will do anything to hurry up and get out of here.
I bend down, sign the papers, and release an inward sigh of relief. The fact that Melanie is secretly marrying me isn’t an issue. The only issue is and always has been, obtaining that which I covet—Melanie.
This marriage ensures a couple of things. I own her now. It also ensures I have an heir in Tommy. I’m convinced a son born of my seed isn’t an option for me. He is certain to have my serial killer DNA and I can’t allow that. I have no way of being sure that he would hone the craft of killing to work for the good of the community as I have.
My next step is to adopt him and make certain that his biological father can never reenter his life. I’m positive he would only see Tommy as a meal ticket. He has never had time for the boy before and I damn sure am not going to permit him to use my son now. Yes, everything is going as planned…
Melanie’s voice interrupts my thoughts when we get in the car.
“Why are you doing this? Making me marry you?”
I lean in, grab a fistful of her hair, and jerk… hard. “Now, is that any way to start our honeymoon? Questioning my judgment?”
She immediately looks down and I stroke her hair gently, “Good girl, such a good girl…”
Agent Turner
In a matter of no time, I am already downtown. I swing through the drive-thru and grabbed coffee for Rene and me. I gently hand her the coffee I have ordered just the way she likes it and I’m careful not to spill it on her. Mistress is in a mood this morning and I have no intentions of being put into chastity for a week. The thought alone of being without that sweet fire crotch of hers is torture in and of itself, not to mention the discomfort of the device.
“Come on, we are going to the doctor’s.”
“This should be fun,” she chuckles. “It isn’t going to be a good day for Dr. Anderson.”
“You’re such a sadist.”
“You would do well to remember that, little boy.”
“Only for you, Goddess, I’m your boy.”
I sit in Dr. Bill Anderson’s office, watching Rene openly stare at him. She is intentionally intimidating him with her gaze. If he is at all like me, he will be squirming in no time under the heat of that stare. Those emerald green eyes of hers can bore a hole straight through the heart of any victim. I know all too well making him uneasy while she drinks her coffee is pure entertainment for her. I can only imagine the scuttlebutt that will ensue at the hospital water cooler over his face being so scratched up.
“We are going to need you to come down to the station with us, Dr. Anderson.”
“I have patients so that won’t be possible.”
“You also have scratches on your face that corroborate a woman’s claim of you attacking her. She believes you were trying to kill her.”
“She tried to rob me. I had to fight her off. Who are you going to believe? A doctor with a reputable career or a common street whore?”
“I believe evidence. It doesn’t lie.”
We both look up to view Evelyn rushing through the door and screeching, “Oh my, black roses are just beautiful and the card was just so appropriate. You know, Dear, the card about rebirth.”
“Oh yeah, we are definitely going to need to question you downtown,” I reaffirm. “We are also going to need those roses, Ma’am.”
Oh yeah, this is getting good…