Finding My Sister's Killer Part 2: Reunion

“You want the truth of what happened?” I asked the inspector standing at my hospital bedside. My voice coming out weak, of course it would, given my current condition.

The inspector decides to take a seat, retrieving a voice recorder from his breast pocket, “Yes please. The details matter, so don’t hold anything back if you can help it.” His voice is steady, carefully measured. He’s done this before. I can see he thinks I’m a victim.

I am no victim, maybe I was at first, but my mind was changed when I realised that I had found something I didn’t know I was looking for...

“Okay. I won’t hold back...”

It began a few weeks after my sister had gone missing. She left behind a few suicide notes, I had no idea she was so upset. I knew things were rough after the divorce, but I never imagined she was that far gone. I would have reached out sooner had I known.

Due to her state of mind at the time of her disappearance, the police were treating it more as a body search than anything else.

I had a feeling though something more had happened. Call it a sister’s intuition.

I tried to reason with the police but it got nowhere. I even implored my own estranged husband to listen, nothing. I finally lost hope of receiving any help when I was coldly rebuked by my own daughter, a PI!

If I was going to find out what really happened, I would be doing it alone. I was afraid, but determined. I had to find my sister.

I started at home. Well, when I say home I mean our shared family home. She had to move back with our parents after everything in her life imploded.

My parents weren’t much help. I asked them to go over every detail they could remember about the last day they saw her. They were hesitant to tell me anything, out of grief and exhaustion from already going over everything with the police.

I left and decided to drive around. I felt stupid, useless, pathetic, like I was failing my baby sister.

“This place hasn’t changed since I left.” I found myself saying outloud.

It’s a small town, the most exciting thing here is the high school. There’s a community college in the next closest town, but nothing more unless you go an hours’ drive away.

What would my sister have done before disappearing?

I soon found myself parked at the old watering hole, a run-down bar. The kind that is busiest on the weekends, and only the true die-hards are found during daylight hours.

While lingering in my Prius, the sound of a rumbling diesel engine brought my attention to the parking spot beside me.

A rather rough looking man exited the truck and swaggered into the bar.

Something was itching in the back of my mind. Something about that man, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew I had to engage him.

I waited a moment longer. That itch was only getting worse. I decided to go in.

This bar was just like the town, it too hadn’t changed since I was last there. I saw the cigarette burn on the bar counter I had left once during the start of a weekend binge.

I was a bit of a wild one back then. A terrible influence on my sister. Because of me, she got pregnant young. Unlike me, she decided to keep her first baby.

Nostalgia hit hard as I took a seat. I didn’t see the man who entered, I know he entered though.

I didn’t recognize the barkeep, I guess somethings had changed.

“Whiskey, full bottle please.” I had never been a light weight, and that day I really wanted at least a buzz.

The barkeeper eyed me with suspicion. They didn’t want some drunk who wouldn’t pay ordering a full bottle. Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.

Rolling my eyes I pulled out a large bill, I can’t remember what but it was enough for a full bottle and a decent tip.

After setting the bill on the counter the barkeeper handed over a brand new bottle of Makers Mark and a glass. There were a few bottles of Jack’s behind the bar; I guess the barkeeper figured something sweeter would be to my liking.

Honestly, whiskey is whiskey to me, I drank more for the burn than the sweet or sour after taste.

I took the newly opened bottle and threw back a drink. Not as good a burn as a small batch brew, but it would do for a buzz.

“I’ve only seen one other woman knock back whiskey like that.”

The voice was deep, with a thick southern drawl. I looked in his direction to see the rough looking stranger I followed in.

His eyes were dark, hair shaggy and brown with a hint of gray throughout. There wasn’t much special about him that I could tell right away.

“Oh?” I raised a brow, swirling the bottle in my hand, relishing how it made my chest heat up on the way down.

He gave me a side grin, a chipped canine poking through. “Sure as shit. You have the same looking eyes as she had.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was he referring to my sister? Everyone commented that she and I had the same eyes.

I must have seemed eager when I asked, “Was she a blonde?”

The man cast his gaze up thoughtfully and nodded, “Yeah, pretty little thing. Long blonde hair, voluptuous I believe is a good description. Tasty.”

My free hand gripped the counter. Maybe this man would be a good lead! I took another long swig from the bottle and slammed it down, maybe a little too hard.

“When did you see her?” I asked, the heat rising in me from the emotional rush.

“Whoa...” The man raised his grease smeared hands, “Settle down, it’s still pretty early.”

I was desperate, and I didn’t care who knew. “Sir, you don’t understand,” I was hoping to appeal to his humanity, “she’s my sister, and she’s missing.”

I think something in the way I was pleading broke through. The man nodded.

“Let’s talk at my place. But first I’m gonna stop at the Git’n’Go* for some Pabst.”

After obtaining the beer I followed behind his truck in my Prius out to the sticks.

My chest tightened as I parked, was this where my sister met her end? Why was I coming here alone? I wasn’t about to go in unprotected. Slipping my pepper spray into my bra and a small taser into my pocket, I’d see what he had to say, but I was going to keep my distance.

He led me into his trailer. The cleanliness here was unexpected given the man’s appearance. It was unnervingly clean. The smell of bleach almost made me gag, and everything was covered with a plastic cover. Just who was this guy?

“Sorry ‘bout the smell. I get a little over zealous on cleaning day.” He said when he noticed my hand was over my nose and mouth.

“Oh, no, I’m just a bit sensitive.” I know I wasn’t reassuring at all. I’m a terrible liar.

He raised a brow but proceeded to remove his shoes and lock the door.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ve got this beer, some milk, tea even if you’re still thirsty.”

I shook my head, I still had the bottle of Makers Mark in my Prius. Sheriffs around here don’t enforce the open container law, they barely enforce click-it or ticket.

I removed my heels and stepped further into the trailer.

“So, you met my sister?” I asked, clutching at my coat rim around my chest.

“Yeah, she came here in a bad state.” He casually leaned against the kitchenette counter, opened a tallboy and took a long, drawn out drink then continued. “Sat right on that couch, lamenting a life lost.”

This man looked every bit a hick, but the way he spoke was rather eloquent. I felt almost hypnotized by that smooth, deep drawl of his.

No, I had to keep my wits about me. Something was still itching at the back of my mind, something was horrifically wrong here.

I made sure to note that there was a back door where the main room ended and the hall leading to the washroom and any bedrooms. I know he locked the front door, and that was a heavy duty lock, but the back door was much less secure. Should anything go wrong I’d rush to that exit first.

“You sure you don’t want a beer at least? You seem a bit jumpy.”

The man’s voice jarred me from my thoughts of escape, should I need to.

“Oh, no,” I said, face flushed, “really I’m fine. It’s just ... I-” Fuck female emotional intensities! I broke down, crumpling to my knees. “I miss her. I know something bad has happened, I just know it. I feel it in my heart.” My voice was rising and falling in pitch. I continued to clutch at my chest, and pulled my knees closer, stabilizing myself with my other arm.

Soon I felt a heavy blanket across my shoulders, one of those weighted blankets.

“The weight helps.” I heard the man say. He then crouched in front of me, an oddly gentle look in his dark eyes. “I get it, missing family can be rough. I lost my parents when I was in high school. Came to this town because my maternal grandparents live here.”

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, and struggled to stand until the man helped me up and held me in his strong arms.

“Give me a minute to clean off some of this grease, you take a bit of a breather to compose yourself in the meantime.”

He left me in the main room, disappearing into the hallway. I should have left. I should have ran away then. Instead I stood there alone for a moment and decided to snoop.

There wasn’t much around in the main room. A couch, a side table, a record player with a couple records, nothing else.

The kitchenette didn’t have anything out of the ordinary for a kitchenette either. He really liked meat though, his fridge and freezer had a lot of pork cuts.

I thought it was pork at the time.

Having not found anything of note I made my way to the hallway.

The man was singing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ while showering. I thought I had some time.

Continuing deeper into the hallway I made sure to keep my ear on the stranger. Still singing like no one was listening.

As silent as I could, I crept into the only other room down the hall. It was the bedroom, occupied only by an extra long twin-sized bed, and a side table. The bed was a mess, but otherwise the room was as spotless as everywhere else in the trailer.

A black framed photo on the side table caught my eye. A smiling couple holding a chubby baby boy. I knew that couple.

Without thinking I took up the photo, my eyes began to water and it felt like all the air was sucked from the room. I went weak, the photo dropped from my hand, glass shattering. In my weakened state I fell against the bed, a leg poked out from under the blankets.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” I spoke quickly, pushing away from the bed and falling flat on my rear.

Everything stopped. The leg, it was so pale. That wasn’t the worst part. There was a half-moon scar on the ankle. It was my sister’s leg!

The sound I made can only be described as something primal. It felt as if my whole body was unwilling to function as I wanted. I wanted to run away but I kept falling back down.

Finally I reached the door, only to see those dark eyes looking down at me.

The last thing I can recall before waking up again was a heavy blow to my stomach.

I heard whistling. It gave way to singing, Sinatra, again, with a deep southern drawl.

“Strangers in the night exchanging glances...”

I tried to move but soon felt such excruciating pain in my wrists. I looked up, I was hanging by a meat-hook attached to a beam in some dilapidated barn.

My eyes went wide, I began to scream again behind taped lips, sweat beading my brow. My eyes moved rapidly, taking in the surroundings, there were other bodies strung up, missing parts, and in various stages of decay.

“Wondering in the night; what were the chances we’d be sharing love?”

He appeared from behind an old tractor parked in a stall, brandishing a wicked looking butcher’s blade.

The look in his eyes reminded me of a tiger I had seen at the zoo as a child. The tigers scared me more than any other creature. We arrived just before their feeding time. The veracity, the shear violence of the way they tore into the meat thrown to them. It gave me nightmares for weeks.

Now, I was being eyed like I was a piece of meat, dangling before a hungry tiger, exposed in every way possible.

“Before the night was through...”

He stopped just before me and traced the blade along my neck and down to my exposed breasts.

“Something in your eyes was so inviting...”

He was toying with me. I could see that he was enjoying my distress, my fear.

“Something in your smile was so exciting...”

He began to press the blade against me harder, slowing down as the blade began to scratch the surface of the skin between my breasts.

“Something in my heart...”

He moved closer to me, I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

“Told me I must have you...”

Just as the blade was pressed against my navel, hard enough to draw a drop of blood, he pulled it away and ripped the tape off my mouth.

“You know, I really fell for your sister. I couldn’t bring myself to string her up here. She’s kept me company these past couple weeks, but time takes a toll on everyone.”

“M-Marilynne.” I managed to sob out. “Her name is Marilynne.” I stared into his eyes, those dark eyes. I could see it now, “And you, you’re my little Alexander.” I felt tears, snot, and spittle running down my chin as I cried.

Before me stood the man who killed my sister, the man my first born had become.

“I guess that makes you the mother I was looking for.” The stranger, no, Alexander, placed a hand at the nape of my neck, squeezing slightly. “No wonder I felt so close to, Marilynne was it? Yeah, she was more than willing to give herself to me in every way you could imagine.”

Those dark eyes, they were just like his father’s eyes. Dark, predatory, and so alluring. The voice, too, I understood now why it was so hypnotic. That man had a power over me like nothing else, and here was his son, his equal in every way I could see.

My chest heaved as I labored to breath in that strung up position. I couldn’t anchor myself to any solid thought, my mind was reeling at the realisation of all that was happening, everything coming to light.

“Yeah, she was begging for me to slice her up. Last thing she asked for was to feel my teeth ripping into her flesh.”

He set the knife down on a hay bale, then stared at me, once more, like a tiger ready to attack.

My skin prickled, and tears continued to fall from my eyes. I couldn’t tell if I was afraid for my life, upset at the confirmation my sister was dead, in grief of knowing what I had given up so many years ago.

I felt his hands on my hips, I didn’t want to look at him. Was it shame? Was it fear? I didn’t know, but I refused to open my eyes.

I felt his lips press against my nipple, and soon his tongue was playing with it as it began to stiffen at the touch.

Still I kept my eyes closed, but now, I felt a warmth rising from my core.

While he began to nibble and suckle my breast I heard him start to hum Strangers in the Night again.

His hands explored around my hips and down to my thighs. His thumbs separating my labia, forefingers pinching my clit. It caused that warmth to grow.

I felt a moan escape my throat. Why? Why was I moaning? Why did this feel good? I can’t feel like this! This man is my son! He killed my sister and now he has me strung up by a meat-hook. I shouldn’t feel any pleasure from any of this. I should be scared, I should be angry, I should be anything but in a frenzy of desire!

All of this only caused my mind to spiral deeper into a darkness I feared I’d be lost in forever.

“God I love how your tits sag, uneven, and still so full. It’s imperfect in the best way.” His voice, oh that hypnotic voice, was full of passion.

He began playing with my clit more and moved to suckle my other breast. Again, a moan of pleasure escaped my throat, I felt myself biting at my lip. Any time I tried to squirm it caused him to pinch my clit harder, bite my nipple harder.

“P-please...” I wanted to say ‘Please stop’ but the phrase would not complete, as if my body was overriding my higher functioning mind.

“Gladly...” He growled and ran his tongue down my belly, down to my now exceptionally wet pussy.

His tongue was now teasing my clit, flicking it and every so often he gave it a light bite. Just enough to make me squeal like a mouse.

He stopped so abruptly, I finally opened my eyes and saw him standing in front of me, my pussy juices mixed with his saliva and dripping down his chin. He grinned at me, that chipped canine stood out among the other wise well cared for teeth. His dark eyes, still so intense with that predatory gaze.

“You taste just as good as your sister there, I wonder...”

He held the back of my neck once more and pulled my face close to his. I didn’t have time to register what he was doing before I felt his tongue playing with my own.

It ... it was ... I wanted more. I leaned into it, I played back, I needed to feel desired, to be wanted again, to be taken. I felt an overwhelming need to relive those amazing nights I spent with his father. He felt every bit the man his father was.

“Take me...” I heard myself whisper, “I’ll give you anything ... Just let me have you again...”

“Oh, I’m going to have you alright.” He said and wrapped a hand around the front of my neck. “I’m going to start with your triceps, both of them. Then I’m going to move around to your back and remove some skin.”

He caressed me so gently and tenderly as he spoke about how he was going to mutilate me, and ultimately kill me. All I wanted was more of him. All I wanted was to feel him, his passion.

“Then, I’ll shave slices off that beautiful, cellulite filled, ass, like a ham at the market. Once I have enough slices I’ll come back around, cut the skin off your lovely wrinkled neck, then remove those beautiful uneven breasts.”

At some point as he spoke he retrieved the knife and caressed the edge of the blade.

“After those breasts are gone I’ll give you a moment to let it set in, and lick up your warm blood.”

He did just as he said he would. He started with my triceps. Slicing through the flesh and severing the muscle from me with the skill of a surgeon.

I screamed. He quickly shushed it with another savage kiss. Slowly he pulled away, gently handling my tricep and setting it down on a rickety table, covered with a plastic tablecloth.

He made quick work of my other tricep. With those muscles gone, I felt even weaker. My wrists pulling against the meat-hook sunk deep inside.

I felt warm blood running down my sides. My arms were screaming in pain. My mind was screaming to do something to make it stop. I felt I wanted more.

He brushed the knife against my skin as he rounded to my backside. He traced with a finger two triangle shapes.

“These areas.” He said, and instantly began to slice into me.

I screamed even louder and shuddered at the feel of the knife. It felt like I was being tased and gave way to an intense burning feel. I could hear a sickening wet sound as he peeled the skin from my back like you would peel a banana.

It appeared to me that he rolled the skin up and set it by the triceps. He took his time with his movements. Each step taken with purpose.

I didn’t see him stalk back up to me, but the feel of that blade was unmistakable. He began to slice my ass cheeks, as he said he would, like a deli clerk slicing a ham. Slow, and steady despite my trembling.

I lost my voice screaming, just hoarse sounds came from me. My breathing was beginning to become more shallow.

The feeling of the blade slicing into my neck elicited a sharp inhale. A raspy yowl escaped past my lips as he slowly peeled the skin away, exposing the platysma** underneath.

“You’re not fading on me yet. Your sister lasted much longer than this.” He said as he gripped one of my breasts in one hand, and quickly cut it off with the other. He made just as quick work of the other breast, and then set them with the rest of my removed parts.

“I’m going to take these into the trailer, package them up and store them in the fridge. Do you want me to bring you back a drink?”

I couldn’t think, I could barely make a sound. The pain was starting to take a huge toll on me, that strange hypnotic hold he had on me was waning. He shrugged and left the barn. I felt like my senses were returning since he had left.

If I had any strength left I would have done anything to get myself loose and run away. This was my son, who murdered my sister, and was going to mutilate and murder me too. What the hell had I been thinking? What sick fuck would enjoy this as I had just moments ago?

An icy chill rose in me when I saw him enter the barn again.

“Sorry to leave you alone like that, but I hope it gave you enough time to really...” He looked up thoughtfully, “Indulge in the feel of everything.” I only regarded him with disgust.

He did not like that. “Why the look? You were enjoying it just a moment ago.” He began to lick my blood covered belly. He made sounds of pure elation, drinking the blood flowing from the places my skin and breasts used to be.

“Probably shouldn’t worry you with this but, you left your phone unlocked. Your daughter’s been blowing it up with texts ‘Mom I’m sorry, Mom please reply, Mom you’re worrying me... ‘ I guess I should get things ready for a sibling reunion.” He said it so casually.

She was worried? She should be. At least now maybe she would light a fire behind the police and take this man off the streets.

My head began to swim again. I felt myself losing to that strange void this man sent me into effortlessly. He was a drug, just like his father had been. It took death to detox me from his father and now I was ensnared by him with no hope of rehabilitation.

“Theres that tremble. Just like your sister.” His voice was dangerously low.

He looked at me, really looked at me. It was an intense gaze looking into me in a way no one had in years. I was at his mercy, I was his to have, to command, to devour in every way imaginable.

“I’m going to take you down, bring you to the bed. There it’ll be easier to cut your thighs. After that I’m going to remove that cute upturned nose. You’ll look so beautiful. I’ll bite off your cheeks too, I’ll be hungry for a snack by then anyway.” He got to work as he spoke, taking me down from the meat-hook and carrying me to the bedroom like a groom carries his bride.

I had, at that time, come to terms that I actually did want this. I wanted my son to be the last one with me when I died and joined my sister. As soon as he laid me in the bed I lost consciousness.

“I don’t remember much after that, just like, flashes. Then I woke up in this hospital bed, my daughter holding my hand tightly. She told me that after she hadn’t heard from me for a couple days she put her PI skills to work and found me, mutilated and barely alive in that bed. Am I correct in knowing that you still haven’t found my son?”

The investigator looks uncomfortable at my question and slowly nods. “That’s correct. You don’t need to worry though, we have a couple uniforms keeping an eye on you.”