Prey Drive (25 page)

“Bite me, Joseph!” Selene shouted grabbing Joe by the back of the head while cupping her hand beneath her breast to offer up her remaining nipple. The monster roared in response and Joe bared his sharpened teeth. Saliva drooled over his lips onto her chest.

“Go ahead. I want you to. I want you to taste me. I want to watch you cum while you eat my flesh.”

“I can’t.”

Selene nodded vigorously.

“Yes. Yes, you can!”

“There are guards outside, Selene. If I bite you … if you leave here bleeding and they find out I bit off your nipple, they’ll put me back in supermax and I’ll never get out of here.”

Selene immediately went cold. All the passion that had been there moments before was extinguished. Joe felt the change and withdrew his cock from her.

“Then I’m getting you out of here tonight.”

“What’s the urgency?”

Selene placed her hands on either side of Joe’s face and turned his head to look at her.

“Because I want you, Joseph. I don’t want you holding back with me. I want all of you.”

“But what if I go too far and accidentally kill you?”

Selene smiled and kissed Joe lightly on the lips.

“I trust you. You won’t hurt me.”

Joe leaned in and inhaled the rich scent of her pheromones. He could still smell the moistness between her thighs, the sweat, and the thick, overpowering scent of blood and cooked meat.

“Who have you been eating, Selene?”

A panicked expression crossed Selene’s face. The question had clearly rattled her. “Uh, um. No one. I mean. It was just some guy I met. He didn’t mean anything to me. I promise.”

Joe smiled.

“I’m not jealous, Selene. I’m just looking out for you. How was it?”

Selene’s bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

“It was awful. It was nothing like what you described. I couldn’t … I couldn’t cum. I was so close, but something just wasn’t working.”

Joe nodded.

“Your lawyer told me. And I told him it wouldn’t work for you because you don’t have the curse.”

Selene was putting her bra back on when she paused and jerked it down, pushing her breasts up out of the bra. She stood up on the mattress and grabbed Joe by the back of the head again, pushing his face into her cleavage.

“Then bite me! Give me your curse.”

Joe pulled away from her, scowling.

“You don’t want this, Selene. Trust me.”

“I do. We can be a team. We can fuck and kill together. I’ll even find us someone we can kill when you get out. There’s this bartender. She’s just your type. Her breasts are as big as my head and she’s got thick hips and thighs. She looks like the librarian from the University. We can fry her up and eat her. You can fuck me while we tear her apart just like you did with Alicia when you ate Frank in the park, remember?”

Her voice sounded desperate. Joe remembered that moment in the park on the trip to Seattle. He’d impaled Frank with a piece of rebar and roasted him alive over a fire, and then he and Alicia made love while he ripped off pieces of Frank’s sizzling corpse and ate him piece by piece. He and Alicia had reached orgasm together as they shared Frank’s roasted cock. The idea of repeating that with Selene did have its appeal.

“What did you do with the body?”

“Whose body?”

“Whoever you ate. What did you do with it?”

“My dad has friends who take care of this sort of thing. I called one of them and he came and cleaned things up for me. He also rented us a car under one of his aliases. He’s very discreet. There won’t be a problem.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was obvious Selene wanted Joe’s curse more than she wanted him. If he had any doubts about that, today had dispelled those. But did she want it enough to kill him for it? He imagined being held down by some big, burly mafia type while Selene drained his blood and drank it like Damon Trent had drank his blood more than a decade ago.

“Is this friend of your dad still in town?”

“No. I sent him back as soon as he rented the car.”

“Okay. Tell me everything that happened.”

“Have you ever heard of drunken shrimp?”

Joe shook his head.

“It’s absolutely delicious. We’ll have to try it together sometime.”

Forty-One

Joe was led back to his room by a skinny CO with buck teeth, red hair, and a stutter. He looked like Howdy Doody. The guy was clearly nervous and Joe couldn’t help feeling bad for him.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry, my friend. You’re not my type.”

Howdy Doody laughed nervously.

“That-that girl … um … is she really your wife?”

Joe cocked an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“She’s just … well … um … she’s beautiful.”

Joe shrugged.

“She’s okay.”

“Well, here you are. Thanks for … well, uh … you know. Thanks for being so co-operative.”

Joe smiled, proudly displaying a mouth full of ivory razors.

“My pleasure.”

Joe walked alone into the hospital. Nathan was waiting for him with a handful of envelopes.

“Hey, Joe! I brought your mail.”

“Thanks, Nathan,” Joe said, taking the envelopes from him. “Oh, and Nathan, I heard you had another body to deliver to the morgue tomorrow morning.”

Nathan smiled. “I believe I do. Tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning. It will be down there waiting for you.”

“Uh, um, Joseph?” Nathan whispered, looking nervously around the room as if he thought the walls were bugged.

“Yeah?”

“Should I still get two coffins ready?”

Joe slung an arm around Nathan’s shoulders like they were old pals. He pulled him close and whispered in his ear. He could smell the man’s pastry-scented soul. The monster stirred and Joe pulled away before it could fully awaken and ruin someone’s day.

“Two coffins. I need you, Nathan. Don’t let me down.”

Nathan nodded vigorously.

“Badass! You can absolutely count on me. This means everything to me. You have no idea.”

“Okay. Now get out of here before somebody gets suspicious.”

A small tremulous smile crept slowly onto Nathan’s face and his eyes moistened. He looked at Joseph almost lovingly. There was an underlying sadness to the expression that confused Joe for a moment. Then he realized what it was. Nathan knew he was going to die. He knew and he didn’t care. He was like the many long pigs who would come to the message board long ago, offering themselves to the “chefs” to be consumed, only Nathan didn’t want to be consumed by just anyone. He was only interested in one chef, the famous serial killer, the monster of the moment, Joseph Miles.

Joe studied Nathan’s expression closely, wondering how the man would taste. His death would have to be something spectacular, something that would live up to the man’s fantasies. As if he was reading Joe’s mind, Nathan offered a suggestion.

“Have you ever baked someone alive … like in an oven? You know, like Hansel and Gretel?”

“I’ve never put anyone in an oven if that’s what you mean, Nathan. I don’t think there’s an oven big enough to put a full-sized human in it.”

“There are at restaurants and bakeries. There’s one here at the penitentiary.”

Joe studied Nathan’s face.

“Baking someone alive would be a very painful way to go, Nathan. That would be extremely excruciating.”

Nathan dropped his head and looked down at the floor. His mouth worked soundlessly, grasping for words that avoided him, then he looked back up at Joseph with a sad expression, holding out his arms, pleading with Joe to understand him. Joe tilted his head like a dog hearing a strange sound, regarding Nathan like some alien species. Eventually, Nathan found the words.

“When I was a kid, my mother used to tell me that story, about Hansel and Gretel, and the gingerbread house, and the witch. I would try to imagine what the witch felt like when they pushed her into the oven and she was cooked alive. It terrified me. I would look at that book with dread whenever she reached for it. I wanted to tell her not to read that story, to pick something else, but I kinda wanted to hear it too. I liked that feeling of being terrified. I liked the goosebumps that would spring up on my skin when she described the witch. I liked the way my mom would hold me and laugh when I would turn away and bury my face in her chest. I liked the way the images stayed with me all night long. I still like that feeling. That’s why I like reading about serial killers. The fear. The goosebumps. That’s why I liked reading about you, Joseph.”

Joe nodded and patted Nathan on the back.

“I understand, Nathan. I understand.”

Nathan nodded back and walked off with his eyes still glistening with tears that did not spill. Joe told himself they were tears of joy, but he couldn’t be certain. There was a deep well of pain within Nathan that seemed to be bubbling to the surface. Joe hoped the man would stay stable long enough to see this through. Getting the coffins on the truck was the most important part of the entire plan.

The hospital was bustling today. There had been a fight in the exercise yard and five inmates were wounded. One of them had been nearly gutted. He came in on a gurney, screaming and holding his intestines in with his hands. The smell of his insides jolted the monster awake. Joe turned his attention from the carnage with great effort and instead looked down at the stack of envelopes in his lap. The first thing he noticed was one from Lana. It was long and rambling, handwritten in a shaky cursive script that seemed almost formal.

Dear Mr. Joseph Miles,

I have been trying hard to find the right words to express my feelings after seeing you. I have hated you for so long and now I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Confused. Angry. Repulsed. Sad. Grateful. Yes, I was grateful. I wanted closure and seeing you, speaking with you, gave me that. I can’t pretend to understand what went on between you and my sister, but it was clear to me that you had genuine feelings for her. It was obvious that you loved her. I don’t know if she loved you or not. You clearly believe she did. That was obvious too.

I have been reading a lot about serial killers lately, trying to understand, and something about you doesn’t quite fit. They say serial killers are usually narcissistic, anti-social, incapable of feeling empathy or remorse. I didn’t get that impression from you. I saw you cry. I saw the love in your eyes for my sister. You’re not the monster I imagined you to be. You’re still a fucking monster. I’m sure about that too. You murdered my only sister. You’re a sick, twisted, fucked up individual. You’re just more complex than the evil villain I thought you’d be, the villain I thought I needed you to be. You’re pretty fucked up though. You’re a horrible bastard, but I don’t hate you anymore. I’ve wasted too much damn time on hate. I just pity you now. You’re a very sad person, Joseph Miles. I think you eat yourself up as much as you have eaten your victims. That’s a fitting punishment I guess. When my mother said I should forgive you, I thought she was crazy. I didn’t think there was any way I could ever forgive the man who took Alicia’s life so brutally, so horribly. I wanted to find a way to hurt you, not forgive you. I wanted to make you feel what Alicia felt, what we feel. Now, I think my mom was right. I need to let all this anger go. All I know is that my sister’s life hadn’t been happy for a very long time. She bounced from one abusive relationship to another, messed around with drugs, drank too much. She was ruining her life. It was no surprise that she wound up dead. So don’t torture yourself anymore over her. If you think she died happy, I have to believe you, for my own sanity. I think you need to believe it too. I forgive you.

Sincerely, 

Lana

Joe’s hands trembled. He tried to hold back the tears and failed. They came in a downpour of anguish that threatened to wash him away in its tide. The other inmates were watching him. Joe didn’t care. They recognized his pain. They had all felt it before, even the crazy ones. It was the torment of realization. That moment of self-recognition when evil realizes itself. For the past few months, Joe had only been concerned with escaping. He had seldom thought seriously about finding a cure. His only thoughts of Alicia had been selfish. He missed her, but he felt no remorse over killing her, betraying her. He was betraying her again now by not seriously seeking out a cure. She had come with him to Seattle because she had believed he could cure the terrible thing growing inside him, but he had now given in to it. He now thought of the disease, the curse, as an indivisible part of him. The monster. It wasn’t an alien presence or an alter ego living inside of him. It
was
him. It was who and what he was. Joe had let himself become this loathsome, destructive, violent, evil thing. Alicia would not have recognized him now. She would not have loved him. He hadn’t fought the curse hard enough. Joe had let his regret over the loss of Alicia sap him of all hope. He had given in to the horror that lurked inside him, worse, he had come to enjoy it. He had nurtured it with rage and self-pity, allowed it to grow out of control. Every move he’d made the last several weeks had been calculated to get him out of prison and access to more victims. Finding his grandfather had been a peripheral concern at best. Even if he found the man and killed him, his confidence that it would change anything was almost nil.

Joe wiped the tears from his eyes and opened the next letter. It was from the woman who used to run his Sex Addicts Anonymous group. She was still trying to fuck him after all these years. Joe chuckled and tore it to shreds. The next letter was from his cousin Dirk. It was dated a week ago; the day after Joe called his cousin and told him to contact Selene.

Yo, Cuz!

I found out some more information about your real grandfather. Remember when I told you he went to prison for trying to kill his wife? Well, I did a search on the case and turned up a whole bunch of crazy shit. I guess the case was a big deal back in the sixties. It was in all the old detective magazines. They even had pictures of him. He looks just like you. Crazy. I attached a photo. He looks like a 1950s Clark Kent! Anyway, he didn’t just try to kill his wife, he cut her tits off! Wild, huh? The detective magazines said he tied her up, cut her tits off, fried them in cornmeal, and ate one and fed the other one to her. She escaped to a neighbor’s house and they took her to a hospital. That’s how he got caught. She almost bled to death and wound up going crazy and spending the rest of her life in an asylum. He ate her fucking tits! Don’t that sound familiar? I think you’re on the right track with this one. This dude was sick! You were looking for the guy who started all this, well here he is. I hope you find that old fuck and fuck his shit up good. Take care, Cuz.