Short story, mystery, thriller, graphic, adult |
My name is Victor... I'm writing this because the story that is about to unfold is almost too strange not to write about. My story starts in San Diego in my bedroom where I first caught my wife with one of my neighbors. I had suspected for sometime, but there was no denying it. After that I started going to the bar more and more often than usual. I thought that it was time to turn over a new leaf. I had always been a push over, the first guy to give in or let up. I was sitting at the bar late one night and had staggered over to the bar and flopped on to a bar stool next to this biker looking guy. We started talking about this and that and I finally found out his name was Ray. It seemed that Ray was sort of in the same situation I was, he was hiding from the "law dogs" as he put it, he was wanted for assaulting his girlfriends "Other companion." After that I looked at Ray as the guy I never really could be. He was a compulsive drinker, a drug user, and a tattooed badass but he seemed like an okay guy. After that me and Ray met quite a bit at the bars, in a wierd way he was almost a friend. One night me and Ray decided to get plastered at a sleezy bar somewhere near Ray's place. At about 3 a.m. I decided it was time to go, I told Ray I was staggering to a cab and left. Two blocks from the bar I noticed two druggies closing in on me pretty fast. Before I new what was going on they grabbed me and slammed me into the wall of a building. "Give me your fuckin' money or i'll slice your god damn neck!" Before I could grab my wallet from my pocket I heard gunfire and felt the brain matter of the crackhead as it hit the wall behind me. As I turned to look for the shooter I was in time to watch the second thug hit the concrete as the a bullet it entered his eye. As I looked upon the two bodies laying dead and cold in the street I couldn't help but be somehow grateful it wasn't me. As I turned toward Ray he was putting his pistol behind his back in his belt where he always kept it. We both stared at one another in silence for awhile, niether saying anything. Me and Ray had somehow became best friends. After the incident in the alley with Ray we decided it was time for a change in scenery. We packed what we could in the car and left, Ray said we had to pick up his friend, he absolutely insisted on it. After 400 miles of driving we had finally reached the small town Ray's friend lived in and picked her up, she was waiting for us when we got there. Her name was Tina, Ray told me she was kind of like an orphan. He said that when she was younger her mother was a dope addict and wasn't a "mother of the year" candidate. Her stepfather was an old drunk with a bad habit of touching little girls. The night before her sixteenth birthday her stepfather had called her up to his room for an "early birthday present." As she laid there underneath the disgusting drunk she thought about the different ways should could kill this foul mouthed piece of shit. After he had finished with her he passed out in bed. While he was sleeping she tied his wrists and ankles to the bed posts and sofly put tape across his mouth.She straddled the fat man and held a kitchen knife to his throat, she suddenly thought that maybe death was too good for him. He should suffer as she had suffered. She slowly brought the knife down bellow his belly toward his crotch. She had already decided that she would take the one thing that had caused her so much misery and so much sorrow. With one swipe she held his cock up for him to see as he awoke to the site of what she had done. She laid the dick on his belly, crawled from the bed, and left the house with only what she was wearing. Ray had grown very fond of Tina after that so I didn't bother to argue. So me, Ray, and Tina headed for the border. It didn't take me long once we were on the road to realize that Tina and Ray were like Bonnie and Clyde or some other famous crime couple. Within 700 miles they had successfully robbed 3 gas stations and done enough speed to kill a bull. We had just passed through a small po' dunk town with no more than a pop machine, that would probably rob you of all your change. Tina noticed the blue and red lights, her and Ray immediately started stashing the outrageous amount of contraband they had accumulated over the trip. As I waited for the cop to walk up, I could feel my heart pounding to the brink of a heart attack. The cop was your typical small town white trash pig; lip full of chew, a big belly, and a equally large hat. He took my information and went back to his car and return after what seemed like hours. " You kids are in deep shit," he knew about the warrants and probably new about Tina's crazy ass past. he told me and ray to stay in the car and had Tina get out and walk to the rear of the car. Through the mirror I could see the cop pointing toward the car and whisperering something to Tina. He suddenly started to undo his pants and force the young girl to her knees. "What are you doing?!" I said in such a harsh way it struck me odd. "Shut the fuck up if ya' know what's good fer' ya! She's gonna get yer' asses outta whole lotta trouble." As Tina was forced to do what the man wanted her to, I couldn't help but think that it had to remind her of her dad. The sound of the cocked pistol was all the cop heard, while he was argueing with me Ray had managed to climb out of the car and sneek up on the cop. Before the cop could pull his pecker from Tina's mouth Ray had already put a hole in the cops head. "I still remember the hole, it was about the size of a large mans fist..." We climbed back into the car and once again began our journey with yet another murder to add to the list. You know? It's strange looking back now that we thought we could get away with all the things we had done... A hundred miles from the border we were all celebrating the arrival to Mexico, hell I even did some speed to lighten the mood. Ray had just crawled back into the car from hood surfing when I noticed the large mass of cars about a mile up the road. As we got closer we seen it. A large road block with spike strips and more armed police officers than I had ever seen. We had no choice but to surrender, we stopped the vehicle. The mega-fone instructed us to exit the car, I stepped from the vehicle and threw my gun to the ground. I turned to take a final look at what may have been my last friends, and noticed they were no longer there. I was amazed, had they fled and left me to take the rap for all there crimes? I thought about them as I sat in the interrogation room. How had they gotten away? I imagined them on a beach in Mexico dancing and cheering and firing gun shots into the air, in made me smile. Two men entered the interrogation room, one smelled of cop. The other, well he reminded me of a lawyer. "Is your name Victor Benson? Yep," I had a strange urge to act tougher than I felt. "You claim in the report that you were accompanied by a man and woman, Ray Vanetti and Tina Spencer? Yep. "We ran the names and no such people exist, in fact we found no record of either person." The news didn't suprise me, I figured they'd use fake names. "This is Dr. Whitman, he's a psychologist from the hospital near here, we want you to see something." He slid me a thick folder, I opened it and found that it contained several pictures of me along with a bundle of papers. The papers were also about me, they had all my information along with several things I couldn't understand. Whitman began to tell me the story... He told me that I had experienced a nervous break down when I found out that my wife was having an affair. I drove to the motel and found them together in one of the rooms. I beat the man she was with to death with a pistol I had in my top drawer. The mans name was Ray... He explained that it had begun when I was a child... That my father was sexually abusive to my mother, as well as to me. He use to dress me up like a little girl... He use to do those... things. I went into foster care after cutting his throat. He always called me Tina... I drove over a thousand miles, killed a dozen people, and robbed three gas stations, all in order escape my past and start a new life. You can never out run your past, it makes you who you are... I am realizing for the first time ever that I am psychotic... I will enjoy a new life in a maximum security mental rehabilitation facility... My name is Victor Benson. |