Sociopaths and Serial Killers

BY: Montana

Disclaimer: I do not own Jean-Claude, Richard, Anita, Edward, or anything else that belongs to LKH.

Author Note: This is set after Obsidian Butterfly.

We approached the old cabin. Edward hadn’t lied, it was up in the mountains. It was elevated, but still on a flat plateau. It looked like we were still in the dessert, about a thousand feet below us. We drove through a wooden gate, it had some sort of large antlers mounted on the top of the wood. Probably elk, maybe a very large deer. There was a barbed wire fence that went on for a large way around the cabin, I could see the out line of it in the moon light. And there was a barn, and another fence circle. It was bigger though, probably made out of metal, or larger planks of wood. I couldn’t tell for sure in the dark, but it looked suspiciously like a corral. Edward’s mountain horse ranch? Damn, what did I miss?

Edward pulled up to the old cabin, shutting down the engine of the hummer. Before we walked inside, Edward paused, looking up at the old wooden house. His expression was totally blank, but I knew he was thinking hard about something. Or remembering something.

In the moonlight it looked like it was about to fall apart. But once we got inside I was surprised at the nice condition of the house. Edward flipped a light switch, and set the suit cases down on the floor. Lights? I didn’t see any power lines coming way out here. I looked to Edward, and as if he knew what I was about to ask, he answered simply, “Generator.”

I nodded. “Oh.” There may have been a generator, but there certainly wasn’t an air conditioner. It was cool outside, but with the closed windows the heat of the day hadn’t leaked out of the house.

“God, Edward, its hotter than hell’s mouth in here.”

He walked over with a glass of ice water. He set the glass down on a table after fishing out a single ice cube. Standing in front of me, he traced the ice cube over my lips. I sighed, standing completely still, closing my eyes. The chilled water from the ice cube ran in rivulets down my hot skin, melting against my body heat. Edward traced the ice cube down my jaw line, my neck, and collar bone. “Chill out,” he whispered above my lips. I didn’t have to see the small quirk of lips that was his smile, to know it was there. Then he did something so sudden and cruel, I had no clue it was coming. He dropped the ice cube down my shirt, it got stuck in my bra.

I squealed at the cold ice being so close to my skin. Edward pressed his lips to mine, muffling my squeal, swallowing it, transferring it into a moan. Still, my hands fumbled to remove the ice cube. He caught my hands, lacing his fingers in mine. Using my hands as leverage, he pulled our bodies together. I squirmed as the pressure of our bodies pressed together, and pressed the ice into my skin. My body was screaming at me to pull away, and to never pull away as Edward’s skilled lips claimed my mouth for his own.

When the ice cube completely melted he pulled away, that devilish smile on his lips. I swallowed, hard. “That was mean.”

He chuckled. “Maybe. Shall we open some windows?”

I nodded. “That might cool things off.”

“Maybe,” he answered. The meaning wasn’t lost on me. He kissed my forehead, and wandered off. Probably back out to the hummer to get the rest of the bags. I wandered around the cabin, opening windows. I found the bedroom that I assumed was mine. I shook out the sheets. We were in the real country now, I didn’t want to fall asleep on a scorpion.

I went back into the living room to get my suitcases Edward had brought in. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a laptop glowing in the dark. “Goodnight, Anita,” he called as I walked out of the room.

“Good night Edward.”

I changed into pajamas, and situated my weapons in the room. Knives under both sides of the mattress, firestar under the pillow, browning in the bedside table drawer. I didn’t want to fall asleep with Jean-Claude still at large, but I was so tired. Screw Jean-Claude. I fell asleep. I noticed I had been more tired more often lately. I was also betting it had something to do with Jean-Claude draining me.

Later in the night I felt a presence in my room. But it was familiar, I didn’t go for my gun. My eyes still closed, I held out my hand as an invitation that I knew he had been waiting for. Edward crawled into bed behind me, draping one protective arm over my waist, spooning me. I fell asleep once again, reassured by Edward’s presence.

***

I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. It was enough to draw me out of bed. I got dressed; jeans, polo shirt, nikes, browning, knives. I wandered into the kitchen, pouring myself a cup of coffee. I looked over through the window to see Edward on the porch, leaning on the railing. He was staring at something, I couldn’t see what through. The wall was in the way.

I walked out to the porch, coffee in hand. He had already had a cup, it was sitting empty on the railing. He didn’t even glance my way when I leaned on the railing next to him. I followed his gaze to where he was staring. He was staring at what I had guessed right last night to be a corral. It was metal gate work, rusting. The gate hung funny, only one hinge working the right way.

“There used to be fifteen,” Edward said mysteriously, still staring at that corral.

“Fifteen what, Edward?”

“Horses. Fifteen horses. Out there, in the corral and stables.”

“Do you like horses, Edward?”

“Ted does.”

“Do you?”

He paused. “Yes. I shouldn’t, they’re just animals. But THEY never broke me of that. They tried. They would punish me when they caught me drawing them on scratch pieces of paper. But they never broke me.”

I looked up at Edward. There was something in his face, in his eyes, that told me this house meant more to him than just a hideaway in the mountains. Had he lived here once? Did something bad happen here? “Who are THEY, Edward?”

“Van Cleef. Van Cleef and his camp. His school.”

I was tired of the mystery, the suspense. I wanted to know who Edward really was. I wanted to know his story, how he had come to be like this.

“Tell me about it, Edward. Tell me about Van Cleef. Tell me why there aren’t horses here anymore.” There was no answer. Edward kept looking straight ahead. I set down my coffee and hopped up on the railing, so I could look Edward in the eye. “Tell me about the Undertaker, Edward.”

Then Edward looked to me. His ice blue eyes were cold and intense. He moved to stand in front of me, leaning in so my jean clad legs straddled his body. He leaned into me on the railing, our faces not but an inch apart. “If I tell you, Anita, I can never take it back. You’ll know, and you’ll be in danger if any one else ever knows that you know. Do you still want to know how I came to be like this, Anita?”

I met his eyes, and answered truthfully. “Yes.”

Edward nodded, and looked back out towards the stables. “Then I’ll tell you. Listen carefully, because I don’t want to have to repeat any of this.” I understood. He was going to tell me some things that were painful to think about, much less talk about. But despite of it, I still wanted to know.

“I told you about the horses that use to live out there. All of this, used to be a horse ranch. I lived here when I was little, with my mother, and father. My mother was petite, like you. And she was dangerous. Like you. They called her the Angel of Death. She was an assassin, the best money could buy, for a long time. Sometimes on a rare occasion when an assignment was especially dangerous, she worked with her brother, Otto Van Cleef. They both worked for the CIA mostly. Not officially, but they were the first ones called when there was a job to be done. Mom enjoyed her job, and was happy killing. Until she met dad. Then she wanted out.

“She and Dad got married, and moved out here. He was a New Mexico native, he grew up on a ranch. It was his dream to have his own horse ranch, so he and mom started up one. She had the money, and he had the know how. In 1968 there was a son born.”

Edward stopped to turn those blue eyes to back me. I did the math in my head. “You’re 34 years old.”

“Yes, I am.” Wow. Death was telling me all of his secrets. Score. “We lived in this house, my family and I. We ran this small horse ranch, there were rarely more than 15 horses, sometimes only ten. But we all loved it, it paid the bills. See, Anita? I had a normal life once. We were the happiest little family in New Mexico. We were happy, until Van Cleef got malevolent. He didn’t think it was right for one of the most dangerous women in the world to play Susie homemaker.

“He had always been bossy, in control. He demanded that mom leave us, and go back to killing with him. She refused. So he came to the house, with some of his best students. He had just started a school for assassins in the military. They were the first graduated class, the cream of the crop. They tried again to get mom to go back to her dark life, one last chance. She refused, but made a proposal. A draw down between she and Van Cleef. It had been one of his fantasies, for as long as they had been in the business of death. If she won, then she would be left alone. If Van Cleef won…well, you get the picture. I remember the look in her eyes when she put up the idea. She was confident that she could win. That her life would be hers.

“Van Cleef accepted. But fearing he would be killed, right before the time for the draw, he signaled one of his men to shoot my mother in the back. Then they shot my father. Both of my parents were killed before my eyes. I was nine years old. I remember looking up at Van Cleef from the dust. I couldn’t get up, they had broken one of my legs. There was nothing I could do, I was helpless, and I hated it. I vowed never to be helpless again, if I survived that day.

“Van Cleef almost killed me, but then decided to keep me. To put me in his school, to make me a tool for the government. He tried to break me in all those years. But I rose above it. I became his best student. I became his worst enemy. I went through the early years with zeal and determination, because I knew if I became the best, then this would never happen to my family, to my loved ones. But then slowly they killed me inside. They killed my emotions, they conditioned me into a killing machine. As dead on the inside as my targets. I became the Undertaker in the school. And when I left to live outside the school in the outside world, I became Death. So here I am.”

I knew my eyes were wide with astonishment to his story. It was sad. It was terrible. And sadly, it was something that I expected to hear. “So Van Cleef is your uncle?”

“Yes.”

“What is your real name, Edward?”

“Edward Forrester, call me Ted.”

“But people know you as Theodore Forrester around here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“So you just legally changed your first name?”

“No. I had to set up a new identity for myself. Van Cleef totally erased my existence. My birth certificate, all traces of identity. So that was the name I chose for myself. Van Cleef laughed at that. That I wanted to go back to who I was, when I had become a totally different person. He laughed even more at Ted, the persona I chose to adapt. Do you know why I chose Ted?” I stayed silent, assuming he didn’t really expect me to answer. “Because Ted is who I would have been , had there been no Van Cleef. I didn’t do it consciously, but I’m just now beginning to understand why. I never sweat the why, Anita. But here I am, analyzing things.”

“Sounds to me like Van Cleef needs an ass whooping.”

“If he ever tries to harm me or mine again, that is what he will get.”

“Why haven’t you done it already?”

“I don’t know.” Then a cynical smile crossed his lips. “I guess I don’t want to kill him until I absolutely have to. He comes in useful every once in a while. Like getting rid of Riker’s house. That would have been a terrible mess to explain to the police. True?”

“True,” I agreed. “How can you stay in this house, Edward?”

He shrugged. “Some of the best times of my life were here, Anita. When the biggest thing I had ever killed was a coyote, that was terrorizing the horses. When the worst scar I had was only about a few inches long on my back, I got it from falling off of a surly mount, and landed on a cactus. I love it here, even though…” He left the rest unsaid. And I understood.

“What is your worst scar?” I asked, truly curious. He took my hands, placing them at the small of his back, guiding them upwards on the line of a jagged scar. My hands then moved on their own accord, following the scar all the way up his back to his shoulders. It branched off here and there, and there were other smaller scars. Edward closed his eyes as I traced them with my fingertips. “How did it happen.”

“Long story short, I got thrown through a window.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“I’m surprised you let someone do that to you.”

Edward smiled sardonically, opening his eyes again. “The graduates tend to get pissed when you dislocate their knee.” I mentally cringed. That must have hurt like a bitch. I kissed Edward’s forehead.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

He sighed, a tremor running through him. “So am I,” he answered.



Edward's POV or the NEXT CHAPTER or the INDEX