“You seem to get tactile enough with Youri,” I spat, as I stalked out of the room.
“Now that’s not fair!” my mom countered.
“You know what’s not fair? The fact that I’ve suffered all of my life for something that you and dad did. Youmade the monster and soon you will have to face it!” I yelled, nearly bumping into Florian on my way out.
“Caspian, what does that mean?” I heard my mother say, but I was gone. I tore open the box and inside was a car key and a fob for the garage door. I made my way outside and went to the garage. Inside the pristine, brightly lit, glaringly white space, parked next to my dad’s supercar collection was a pearl orange Lamborghini. Nice. My mom did have good taste, but I was still raging. I jumped in and pressed the fob and whizzed out of there, the tires screeching. I needed to clear my head, so I drove to the coast, doing over a hundred on the cliff roads and taking sharp turns without any care for my safety. But it felt exhilarating. I felt alive. When I got to New Haven, I pulled over near the lighthouse and got out of the car, breathing heavily. It was dusk, and the streetlights began to switch on, glimmering in the tranquil water. I took off my shoes and dug my toes into the sand, walking to the shore, the warm, salty breeze ruffling my sun kissed blonde hair.
“What’s a handsome boy like you doing out here alone?” I turned and saw an attractive red headed, young woman, wine glass in hand who had walked towards me barefoot from the decking of her glorious beach house, just a little bit behind us.
“I needed to let off some steam,” I replied, my voice not sounding like me, but like the weasel. Gruff, animal-like, primal.
“I could think of more enjoyable waysto let off steam,” she said suggestively, letting the strap of her tank top drop off her shoulder, causing me to take a good look at her impressive rack, “fancy a drink?” I grinned, my crotch beginning to get hot, and I followed her into her house.
“Wow, cool space,” I said, as we entered the high-ceilinged beach house, where one side was all glass, leading out onto the decking and the beach. It was relaxing to see the ocean. A wooden, free-standing staircase led to a mezzanine bedroom and a compact kitchen full of all the modern conveniences occupied one corner. It was lit by tall lamps that created a cozy, intimate atmosphere.
“It’s amazing isn’t it? I work in real estate, and when this house came up on the market I had to have it.” She went to the fridge and refilled her glass, also pouring one for me. I felt a shift in my temperament. When I blinked I could see the weasel mask and hear Bess crying in anguish. I sensed she was hurt. I needed to get back to her, but first the demon inside me wanted to be fed. I grabbed the woman by the throat and threw her against the wall. My brute force turned her on, and she clawed desperately at my clothes, her mouth finding mine as my hands went up her denim skirt and tore off her panties. My fingers found her juicy opening, and she moaned as I roughly finger fucked her, one of her legs snaking around my waist. My cock was erect in my sweatpants, and she burrowed a hand down the front of them and gripped my shaft. We collapsed onto the brightly colored rug in the middle of the room and tore each other’sclothes off. Then she clambered on top of me, eager to be filled, and I felt the delicious suction of her cunt as she slid herself down my cock. She rode me hard, her titties jiggling and her back arched. Man, she was hot. I squeezed her beautiful orbs and grabbed her throat again, which made her fuck me harder. I came violently, yet I still felt unfulfilled. We lay back on the rug, her head on my chest, panting and reeling from the sheer spontaneity of the act. She got up and brought us our drinks. I drained my glass.
“Did I make you thirsty?” she giggled, “what’s your name anyway?”
“Why do we have to give our names?” I said, getting up and going to the fridge for a refill, “isn’t it hot that we’re strangers?”
“I guess,” she replied, a little unsure. I filled my glass and took the bottle back with me, topping off hers.
“Cheers,” I said, as we clinked glasses, then I threw the contents of my glass into her face. Startled she screamed and her hands flew to her eyes. I hit her over the head with the bottle, spilling the remainder of the contents. She fell backwards concussed, her head bleeding where I’d fractured her skull. I went and had a look in the kitchen cupboards and drawers to find other implements of destruction. I returned to the whimpering woman with a roll of plastic wrap and knelt down next to her, propping her head on my knee as I tightly wrapped it. She feebly tried to stop me, but I batted her hands away, her grip too weak since she was still a bit out of it. I boundher wrists behind her back with the plastic wrap and her ankles, just in case.
The plastic wrap on her head began to mist inside and I could hear her gasping for precious air, her body writhing around as she was slowly suffocated, unable to do anything.
Wrapped in plastic, short of breath, your life will slowly leave you. Death is but a sweet escape, pop goes the weasel!
I sang, looking in the fridge again and opening another bottle of wine, drinking from the bottle like an ingrate, but then I felt sad because I missed Bess. The body’s spasms were becoming less now. I waited until it had completely stilled, then I picked her up, cradling her to me like a lover. I returned to my car and hurled her into the back seat, driving further along the coastline to the steep cliff beyond the lighthouse. I got out of the car, and let the handbrake off, pushing the trinket given to me by my mother over the side, where it sailed through the air and smashed loudly onto the rocks below, exploding into flames. I felt the insane pull from Bess and knew that something bad had happened. I got my phone out of my pocket and called a cab, hightailing it out of there before someone noticed the smoke and discovered the woman's remains.
* * *
As I entered my room, Bess was curled up in a ball on my bed sobbing.
“Bess! What’s the matter?” She sat up and I gasped. Her right eye was missing and all the side of her head and face were singed like they had been burned.
“My punishment for disobeying the Dollmaker,” she said, her voice choked with sadness. I picked her up and cuddled her, my own tears spilling.
“I killed someone tonight, not a dream and not because you or the Dollmaker told me to, but because I wanted to. And…it felt good,” I admitted.
“I told you; that’s the weasel taking over. He’s becoming part of you now. You will become him completely soon enough, even without the mask,” she sniffled, “am I ugly now?”
“No,” I lied, “you’re still beautiful.”
“Can I sleep with you again? Please don’t put me backin the closet. I promise to be a good dolly from now on.”
“Come on, let me tuck you in,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her head until she fell asleep. Then I went and took a shower,my tears mingling in with the water.
8 kill! kill! kill! becoming the weasel
That evening, my dreams returned, more blood drenched and disturbing than before. I could actually smell the aroma of burning bone as I used a Stihl saw to lop off the top of my mom’s head and extract her brain. In the endless darkness of my nightmare, I saw the little girl with the pigtails from the bus, except she was burned really badly and had only wisps of hair left and no eyes, ears or nose. In some places, you could also see bone where the skin had been destroyed completely.
“Why did you kill us?!” she shrieked, “you took our lives and now we’re lost in some kind of purgatory because we weren’t ready to die. You deserve to be punished!”
“It wasn’t me; it was the weasel!” I said, feeling the guilt infesting my person and making me experience immeasurable pain, like I was being scorched from the inside out, so much so that I doubled over and writhed on the floor in turmoil.
“Hahaha!” the little girl giggled, then her face was venomous, “you still don’t get it do you? The weaselis you silly.” I heard shuffling in the shadows, then all the rest of the children staggered towards me like corpses that had been left out in the sun too long, all displaying varying degrees of burns. The cherub faced boy reached for me, his teeth black as coal and the left side of his face completely melted off.
