My Frailty

My frailty was you, perfectly damaged you. What was at first forever, slowly faded, into something more like maybe never. Yet I remained steadfast for you, shunning all else who came. For simply complicated you.

Even when you said when we have nothing left to lose, I still remained true.

I still do.

I still do.

My frailty is still you, and I have nothing left to lose, except, for perhaps you. The one thing I'd never wish to lose. That fate has however already come true. So now all I am left with is,

my frailty of you.

Did you think you were undeserving?

If either seemed true, it was neither of the two. It was always only you, impeccably faulty you.

Did I seem self serving?

I adored my frailty of you.

Somewhere I still do.

I still do...

The Gemini - IX - The Devil's God

Sarah awoke from a horrible dream – one of pain and murder. She had no idea who she was and why she was where she was, but she’d come to accept that. She had no recollection of who she was before or who the Good Samaritan was, but she was safe. But these dreams have started taking their toll on her. Cuts, blood, excruciating pain… those were the feelings that she felt whenever she had them. As she walked past a few battered women at the facility she was in, she reminded herself how lucky she was that she didn’t remember what had happened to her.

Vernon watched Sarah as she walked about her room. “it’s time that she knew who she was..” he mused to himself. He followed her as inconspicuously as he could considering his surroundings. “Julian is not going to know what hit him…” he thought to himself.

Julian awoke to find himself covered in blood. It felt good. No… more than good. He felt more alive than what he had felt since as long as he could remember. “I AM me… and that is more that I could ever want or need!” he exclaimed to himself. He looked at the boy, he’d managed to stem the flow of blood from his Achilles tendon but he knew that it was only a matter of time before the boy would be paralysed due to the wounds inflicted on him. “Fuck him… I got and need what I do to get Vernon now” he thought to himself.

Julian walked through the streets aimlessly not looking at people in particular, when he noticed one person. That hair… that grace of movement. It couldn’t be. Jeanette? Sarah watched the guy looking at him, admiring his gestures and obvious admiration.

Julian couldn’t believe the similarities in her. His mind must be playing tricks on him. His heart quickened as he approached her.

“There we go… fucking IDIOT!!!”, Vernon thought to himself as he watched the hapless two get closer.

As Julian watched the young woman walking aimlessly he pondered his options. Thoughts of “should I talk to her or not” sprung through his mind. Then he remembered what he became, “she would never think of me like that…” he thought to himself.

Sarah found him strange, the look on his face made her know that he was interested, but there was something strange about the way he looked at her – like he knew her. That didn’t make her feel any different about the tingles she felt through her body every time she could feel his eyes on her.

Julian took his time, scalpel kept close at hand, while he watched the two mingle. He watched Julian exchange one or two arbitrary words with her and then watched them part their ways. He bided his time until she was alone and made his move. As Julian made his move there was a flurry of movement as a small body moved itself between himself and his target.

As Julian struck out at his nemesis a tiny body moved in front of him, right in the path of the scalpel blade and, before he could stop himself, proceeded to slide itself through the little person’s skin and sinews. “It’s that little fucker…” he thought to himself.

There was so much running through Vernon’s mind, “Why did that shit protect him”, topped the list of his questions. He still had the better end of the deal though. The object of Julian’s affection was ‘alive’. He took the time to find her… he wasn’t stupid after all he mused to himself.

Reynold thought about how and what he had done in his life as the last of his life flashed before his eyes, when a light shone on him. He couldn’t hear the sirens or screams as his body had reverted to one thing… keeping him alive. As he looked up he saw the eyes of Inspector Cameldo. “Help me please”, were the only words that could come out of his mouth.

Julian had to run away from what he had seen… from what he had to do and from what he had become. The cops weren’t far but he knew he could give them the ditch. He knew that all he wanted was Vernon… nothing more… nothing less. But that woman – why did she look at him the way she did? Why did she look so much like Jeannete?

“Yes… it is working… He is mine… so much for your “Holy Grail” you worthless piece of SHIT!”. Vernon reveling his victory over Julian. “This is why you are so WEAK!”... but there was something that dogged him.

As he looked through at what was and what is, Julian found himself wondering what was right and what was wrong. Where had he lost it all? Why did he just not give a damn anymore? Why is it that he finds himself being on the opposite side of the law? Where is that woman that has cause him this change of heart?

Vernon looked at the unconscious body of Sarah. “You stupid and misguided little COW!... Let me help you out of your misery…”, as he looked at her with a glint that only a psychopath could.

“I need to change my life for her”, Julian thought to himself. He knew that he couldn’t do it for himself – but for her… to make her life worth more that what it was and what it should have been.

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EDITOR'S NOTE

We have so much we want to live for… so much we have to live for. Yet we find ourselves wanting something… more. We look to people for acknowledgement and for acceptance. But the person who we should be looking to is one more closer to home – ourselves. At the end of the day, we are who we are… nothing more and nothing less. But when you think about it, we end up looking to others for what we should be looking to ourselves for. So, who is your devil’s God?

The Gemini - VIII - What Goes Around Comes Around

Vernon waited for Reynold to pitch at the place where they’d agreed to meet. "Where is that damn kid?" he thought in frustration. There wasn’t a lot of time left, he knew Julian will be looking for him. They had to move quickly. He needed to plan for when Julian got there – he had to make sure everything was perfect.

Julian looked down at the unconscious body of Reynold. God knows he wanted that little shit dead, but he had to keep him alive to get to Vernon – then the fun will begin. With his head held in his hands he reflected on what was, what he had become. Why him? Why was this happening to him? What did Jeanette do to deserve that horrible death? Tears streamed down his face as these thoughts flew through his mind like a freight train. Reynold moaned as he slowly began to regain consciousness.

Inspector Cameldo had no idea what was going on. The case file was open up in front of her and she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was happening in it. So many leads, with just as many dead ends. She looked at the case file of Jeanette and she didn’t know why she had died. Every profile that they had made indicated that she should not have died. "What the hell went wrong?" she wondered.

"Where is he… I’m not going to ask you again…" Julian’s voice was silently loud in Reynolds ears. What was he going to do? This freak was going to kill him – without a doubt he would. "WHERE IS HE!!!"… "I… I don’t really know… I just know that we were supposed to meet at this old house…" was all that Reynold could reply softly. "Take me there… now" came back the deathly cold response.

Something was wrong and Vernon knew it. There wasn’t a trace of Reynold anywhere and his plan was almost in place. Everything HAD to be perfect. He paced the dimly lit room impatiently as his plan buzzed in his mind.

Julian kept the boy so close that if he even stepped out of place Reynold would have fallen flat on his face. With several razor blades in his pocket and one held dangerously close to the boy’s kidneys, Julian just looked forward – his mind playing images of the countless things he was going to do to Vernon once he got his hands on him. His life was spiralling out of control, all his self control was gone. He had nothing now… just revenge. "W… We’re here…" Reynold’s voice was barely a whisper. Before them stood a dilapidated, long-since abandoned cottage, door half-strewn as the stench of mildew, rotting furniture and wooden flooring overwhelmed their nostrils.

Gerald and Blain watched the pair stop and look at the old Parlon’s house. They’d been friends, and petty criminals, for as long as they could remember and today was no exception – these two would be perfect targets: a man and his son… easy pickings. They knew the routine and without a word they fell into their stalking as they had done so many times before. With the .38 revolver hidden in his pocket, Blain increased his pace to get to Julian as Gerald moved to get the kid. Sliding his hand into his pocket and slowly pulling the hammer back, his move was played.

Julian caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately spun around, lashing out his hand with the blade. The razor sharp edge slashing through the bridge of Blain’s nose, sliced through his right eye and slid effortlessly through the soft skin and muscle of his cheek. He looked as Blain froze, a bewildered and confused look on his face, as thin rivulets of blood started sliding unchecked through the almost invisible yet deadly cut. Without a thought, the blade struck again, slicing through Blain’s throat and jugular, with blinding speed yet another slash across his abdomen. Blain was dead before his body crumbled to the ground with a soft thud, entrails and blood flowing from the gaping wounds. Gerald’s mind was still reeling at what he had just seen when Julian’s attention turned on him. As he turned to flee Julian’s hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and in a powerful thrust flung him headfirst into a nearby streetlight pole killing him almost instantly – the coroner would later confirm that the young man had died from the massive impact on his nasal cavity which, when it shattered had sent bone shards into his brain.

Looking around at the carnage around him Julian started giggling uncontrollably. Why? Because he knew this had nothing – absolutely NOTHING – on what he was going to do to Vernon. He turned to where Reynold had been standing to find nothing. "Aaaahhh… a hunt…" was all that came to Julian’s mind as he scouted the area looking for the boy. This was going to be so much fun!

"Did he really do this?", Vernon mused as he stood over the mutilated bodies of Blain and Gerald. "Maybe he isn’t as weak as I thought he was." The sweet metallic stench of blood never smelt better to him as he lingeringly touched the corpses. He knew now though, that he had to up his game – and he knew just how to do that.

Reynold’s little legs felt like molten lead as he finally slowed down. He found a drain to hide in and he knew no-one could see him, but it felt as if his heartbeat was loud enough for the entire town to hear. Half an hour had passed and he’d finally started to relax when he decided to find Vernon. He tentatively stuck his head out of the drain when he felt something grab him by his hair and yank him up before he could even put up a fight. "Well well well" chuckled an all-too familiar voice. Reynold opened up his tear-filled eyes to look straight into the steel cold eyes of Julian. He saw the blade come slashing down and screamed at the top of his lungs in agony as the blade slid through his Achilles tendon.

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EDITOR'S NOTE

We do lots of things to gain something for ourselves. We also do things that we are not proud of, in order to gain what we want. We like to think of it as 'climbing the ladder to success', but at what cost does this come at? When we do less than stellar things to accomplish what we want, we never realise what repercussions this can have in our lives, whether this happens in a day, a month or even years from it. When this happens we find ourselves asking "What did I do to deserve this?!?!"... but deep down – in the pit of our soul – we know why.

We’ve all had those "bad times" in our lives when everything was just coming together. Suddenly your girlfriend breaks up with you when you were on the verge of proposing to her – that same girlfriend you got through a course of actions that you used to your advantage to get her. That job you had gotten because you had stepped on a few people’s toes to get – which suddenly gets ripped out from underneath your feet because of a 'corporate restructure'. That best friend who turns on you after years of you taking advantage of him/her.

We all refuse to acknowledge or see it – but we all know it – what goes around comes around.

The Gemini - VII - The Beginning of the End

Jeanette lay quietly in her bed, wondering what to do. Why was she still thinking about Julian? Staring up at the ceiling she thought about all that had happened in her life and what she needed to do. Within less than a year she’d almost been killed twice, yet Julian was what kept her going. She’d read the note that Julian had left for her millions of times, and still she didn’t know what to do, because, as the reality dawned on her, she believed him. She wanted him. She needed him. A knock on the door shook her from her thoughts. “Ms Cornley? You have a package” the voice said at the other end. As she opened the door, and crushing blow to her temple knocked her about before she could blink.

“It’s your time now woman… YOUR time… YOU took him from me and now you must pay” Vernon carried Jeanette’s unconscious body to his car and then drove off to his small house in the middle of nowhere. When he was done tying her up, he gazed upon her with a look of pure unadulterated hatred. His thoughts of what he was going to do to her consumed his mind completely, but he knew he had to be patient. He wanted her to see him cutting her, making her bleed and feel as much pain as he could possibly inflict on her. She was going to beg him (if he hadn’t grown tired of her pleas for pity and sliced out her tongue) to let him end her meaningless, pitiful life.

Julian was angry. No. He was pissed off. No. he wanted to kill someone. His mother was dead… murdered… mutilated… and someone had to pay. Anyone. The problem was that he knew who needed to pay – Vernon. “YOU are going to pay!” the thoughts screamed through his head, without falter, without question. He’d ripped through everything that was not moveable into shreds. “I have to see Jeanette” he knew it before he thought it, as he shut the door behind the motel he’d been in.

“What does he see in you woman?” Vernon thought as he looked over Jeanette’s unconscious body. He slid the scalpel out with the greatest of ease. “Wake up sleepy head” he chanted in her ear. As she muttered to herself in her subconscious state he smiled and waited.

Julian stood at Jeanette’s open door and only one thing came to mind… Vernon. He’d killed the cops that were on watch at her place, and had abducted her, but where would he have taken her? Time… time was definitely not in his favor. “The old house… he’s got to be there!” he thought to himself. Thirty minutes later, as he pulled up in front of his childhood home, and as he got out of the car he’d stolen, his nose was filled with sickeningly sweet smell of burning flesh coming from the back of the house.

Reynold sat quietly in the psychiatrist’s chair… answering only when needed. He had it all worked out – they all believed his story. “Like taking candy from a baby” he smirked inwardly. They made him out to be some poor victim of a madman. He had everything going his way. Soon he’d be out, doing what he loved best – killing. He’s had the urge to kill people for as long as he could remember, but now he has the perfect opportunity to do it and get off scot-free! “New beginnings…. And I am SO going to make the most of them…” he thought gleefully to himself.

The body was burnt beyond recognition when the police got there. Inspector Cameldo looked at the report the coroner had written up: “The victim, Jeanette Cornley – body confirmed by dental records – was deceased before being set alight caused by multiple vicious stab wounds as noted by the deep chips on the skeleton of her body coupled by an almost certain fracture to her cranium…”. This wasn’t his style, she thought to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something more deadly and insidious – and the thought chilled her through her entire being.

Staring at his hands blankly, all Julian could see was the burning corpse of Jeanette – his sweet, beautiful Jeanette. All he could imagine was her screams of pain and suffering. As the rage built in him he struggled to find some kind of semblance of order in his mind. He needed to find Vernon and make the bastard pay… and oh he will pay very dearly. “This will be the end of him…” the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

Slinking out of his sparsely guarded room, Reynold had everything he needed to do already set in his mind: Get back to Vernon, get him to be all relaxed, and slice his throat. He needed to carry on the legacy, and Vernon was losing his touch – making mistakes. It was time for a change… a new time… it’s his time now. Delightfully dark thoughts ran through his mind as he made his way through to the place where Vernon told him they should meet if they ever went astray.

“This is going to be so much fun!” Vernon thought to himself. For all that he had done this was by far his best work ever! He knew this would drive Julian over the edge, he knew that he would come after him. Finally he would make his mark as a man! Vernon smiled to himself as he waited patiently for Reynold to pitch as their agreed meeting place. “So much to do, so little time…” he said quietly to himself. He stretched out on the floor of the abandoned factory – secure in the knowledge that finally, after all this time, he was going to get exactly what he deserved.

It was by sheer change that Julian saw the kid lost in thought while trying to keep himself towards the shadows. He knew that he needed to get to him to get to Vernon as he slowly increased the pace of his walk as he closed in on Reynold. The kid didn’t even realize until his hands were wrapped bone-crushingly tight around his tiny neck. “You have a choice you little shit: One – you tell me where that bastard is and you live, or two – you don’t tell me, and I snap your scrawny neck in half and you die…” the words uttered from Julian’s mouth were soft and uncannily cold. Reynold could barely whimper as he looked in his dark, dead eyes with a look of at first shock and then pure terror as a patch of darkness formed around his crotch and a rivulet of steaming warm liquid ran unchecked down his leg. Reynold felt the darkness close in on him as Julian’s powerful grip squeezed tighter and tighter around his neck.

EDITOR'S NOTE

All of us go through phases and changes in our lives. We start (or end) these with a sense of finality of either accomplishment or failure. These can range from moving to a new home, starting a new relationship, losing or starting a job – the list is endless. More often than not, we find ourselves looking back at these chapters of our lives with more regret than anything else. We push ourselves to work in mediocrity, when we should in fact strive to be the unique and special person that we actually are. But what are these ends? And how do we know what marks a beginning? How do we cope with them? Can we cope with them? More importantly, will they make us a better, stronger and more capable person inside, or will we choose to just ignore these changes? Blindly walking past the new doors which have opened while dwelling on the past? Too often we miss these opportunities because we wonder why something (whether good or bad) happened and at the end of it, we realize when it’s too late that the boat has up and sailed by without us even realizing it. Well you know what? There is a very interesting response to that kind of situation: “Could’ve… should’ve… didn’t…” – as harsh as that may sound, unfortunately that is the truth, plain and simple. It’s a bitter-sweet circle and lesson that we all have to face and learn – trying to find (and live with) our lives when we reach the beginning of the end.

The Gemini - VI - Little White Lies

Julian stood outside the quaint cottage door. This was the only place where he could find the answers to the questions he sought. He knocked lightly on the door, took a deep breath, and looked over his shoulder nervously. Light, slow footsteps approached and finally the door creaked open. “Julian? Is that you?” Fiona Grawling gasped before pulling him inside the cottage out of sight.

“It’s all over the news, Julian. The cops want you for… torturing and murdering all those people”, Fiona’s sad eyes looked straight into his as she gently stroked his chin. Julian hadn’t visited his mother in over 12 years, yet as he looked at her now it seemed like only yesterday that he’d set out on his own. “I didn’t do it. I swear on Dad’s grave ma, I didn’t…” his voice quivered as he sat meekly on the soft sofa that he knew so well. Couldn’t he just go back to the days where that was all that mattered? When he used to spend evenings sitting on that very same sofa, playing with his dad while his mom cooked supper? “Ma? Did I have a brother? Or a cousin that looked like me?” Silence… “Ma?” Julian was stopped by a slow gentle placing of Fiona’s finger on his lips. “I should have told you this a long time ago…” Fiona’s voice drifted off as tears slowly began streaming unchecked down the wrinkles of her face.

Julian listened silently as she spoke, silently nodding every now and then and placing a reassuring hand on her weary shoulders. He was born Kevin Blaedon, identical twin brother of Kyle Blaedon, raised in an abusive home which saw him taken away by social services – but not before his biological father had beaten to death not just his wife, but also landed both himself and Kyle in Intensive Care for over three months. His father was sentenced to death for the murder. She wanted to adopt both of them, but the courts wouldn’t allow it, thinking she and her husband would not be able to support both boys. “I lied to you my baby… I’m so sorry…” she sighed softly. “You just wanted to protect me from my past Ma. It’s okay – honest.” Julian’s mind raced at the news as he held her gently in his arms.

Vernon watched from the window. Julian didn’t even notice him trailing him – the fool. Something just didn’t seem right – he’d never known about this old cow, no acknowledgement of her existence in his life before. Ever since he’d seen the almost mirror-like image of himself in Julian 10 years ago he’d been following him like a shadow, but this? All his poking and prodding to find out who he was and where he’d come from had turned up an infuriating blank. He frowned as he tried to figure out what to do next. It was too soon to go after Jeanette, and the kid was sleeping.

Jeanette read the letter over and over again. Sighing to herself she looked out kitchen window at the police car standing outside wondering what could possibly happen next. Reynold Pierson held the scalpel tightly in his little hand as he watched Jeanette through the back door window. He wanted to prove himself to Vernon, show him that he was just like him – and he knew that Vernon wanted this woman dead. It was easy for him to fool Vernon into thinking that he was asleep – he wanted to do this on his own. He waited patiently for the cops to change their watch.

What Inspector Tracy Cameldo did not expect was the fingerprint they found at the scene of Melanie Pierson’s murder. Reynold’s prints? She stared at the triple tested results, and then back over Julian’s file on the other side of her desk, eyes frowned in concentration. What was she missing? It’s there; she knew it – if only she could find it – that one piece of the puzzle that would solve it. Suddenly she read through the adoption papers again and something jumped out at her. “But then…” she didn’t have time to finish her thoughts before she was dashing through the precinct and into her car, praying to God that she was in time.

“So that’s who she is…” Vernon smiled as he watched Julian leave his adopted mother’s cottage. “Well, say goodnight to your mommy Julian – It will be your last” the scalpel slid out from his jacket pocket. Fiona walked slowly to her bedroom, her bones – and heart – aching from what she’d had to reveal to her poor son. The lies that had kept her family safe have now almost certainly destroyed it. Vernon walked with deadly intent quietly up the stairs, so close to his unsuspecting prey he could smell her. Vernon walked through the door – only to find Fiona sitting up in bed obviously waiting for him. “I’ve been expecting you Vernon” her quiet voice floated through the room as she continued, “I didn’t tell him about you Vernon. But I’m tired of living a lie – just get what you came to do over with.” Vernon stood there dumbstruck – how did she know him? How the hell did she know his name? He rushed through to her and slid the blade effortlessly into her heart. The look of pure love shone through her eyes as she touched Vernon’s cheek, a small rivulet of blood running slowly down her lips. “I’m so sorry my baby, sorry that you had to live the life you’ve had to. Sorry that you never got to know me. Forgive me child…” her chest raised for the last time as the light from her eyes died. Vernon stood over Fiona’s body – a tiny pool of blood forming around her. He didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was he did not like it; not one damn bit at all.

Seeing his opportunity, Reynold snuck into Jeanette’s flat – a strange look on his face. He’d been patient, just like Vernon had taught him. He’d been practicing over the last couple of hours while waiting – slicing and dicing birds, dogs, cats, whatever he could get his hands on; slicing their flesh and hacking off their limbs, drawing small shapes in the bloody pools of animal blood. He followed Jeanette silently as she went through to the shower. He watched her as she undressed, waiting for her to busy herself with the shower before he makes his move. He crawled now, sensing the moment. Two meters… one meters… almost th… Cameldo burst into the bathroom as he was just about to slice Jeanette’s Achilles tendon. She grabbed the now screaming boy mere millimeters from the startled woman.

Reynolds sat in the interrogation room, speaking quietly to Cameldo: “he told me to do it ma’am… he said that he was going to cut me up like how he cut up my mom… then he took my hand and made me touch her… I didn’t want to do this!” he all but blubbered as tears ran down his face, the picture of pure innocence. She took him in his arms to comfort him as he placed his head on her shoulder; an unseen sadistic smile filled his face.

EDITOR'S NOTE

We live in a world created by lies, but the worst kind is most probably the proverbial white lie, a truth that is twisted into something which it is not – ready for use for the gain of others. Whether we mean to or not, these white lies are the ones that damage the most. They can destroy lives and families if used in the wrong (or is that right?) context, yet we are all guilty of one or other white lie whether intentionally or not. But why? Why do we do it? The answer lay in the fact that we can justify what we are saying because, well, it was true – so technically we are not lying. We find ourselves bending the truth to our will, but at what cost? We see the havoc it wreaks in others’ lives and yet we continue to do so, safe in the knowledge that “we were only telling the truth”. Yes the truth hurts, but a white lie cuts like a knife. Just remember one thing though – what goes around comes around. Beware the day that you fall victim to little white lies.

The Gemini - V - Angels and Demons

Julian had no idea what was going on. What did Jeanette mean? How could it have been him? He was at home sleeping wasn’t he?! He’d just managed to get away from the flat not even two minutes before the police vehicles screeched to a halt there, cops jumping out seemingly before the cars even stopped, and watched from his vantage point unseen in the bushes as they led a shocked, disheveled Jeanette into one of the vehicles. Now what was he to do? He had nowhere to go, no-one to trust – just himself. He sighed to himself, and silently pushed his way through the shadows trying to figure out what to do next.

Inspector Cameldo handed Jeanette a hot cup of coffee and sat opposite her. “I… I can’t believe that it’s him.” She sobbed quietly, hands shaking uncontrollably. All she could see in her mind was Julian’s face – with a sick smile on his face while her body was wracked with pain. The cops hadn’t found him yet, and that scared her the most – “I’ll be back for you…” the words echoed through her mind. “Dear Lord, he’s coming after me next isn’t he?” her imploring eyes met Cameldo’s. Five hours later, Jeanette stood looking through the blinds of her kitchen window and saw the cop car stationed outside her house as promised by the inspector; still she did not feel safe.

Vernon watched Jeanette’s house – one cop car in front of the house, two more alternating at the back and another patrolling every few minutes. “Easy pickings… they’re insulting my intelligence” he chuckled. Still, she could wait – there was more to sort out than her, at least for now. The boy needed to be taken care of. He already knew where he was – no-one was going to stop him from sorting out that little problem. Vernon got up, plans of action beginning to form in his mind as he whistled a tune, nimbly walking to Reynold’s aunt’s house.

Twenty kilometers away, ten year old Reynold Pierson lay in his makeshift bed with his eyes closed. He can’t say he was sad that his dad was gone, for so long he had fell privy to his belt and fists – so many times he wished him dead. Now with that wish granted, his life could move forward. Slowly he began to drift off to sleep.

It was so easy gaining access to the house, only one cop car was outside – people really should get rid of the heavy foliage around their property. He’d snuck in through the back door, silently picking the lock and now walking through the kitchen. The stairs leading upstairs softly creaking as Vernon walked on them. He checked the first room, to find his aunt sleeping soundly. Vernon took a pillow lying on one of the chairs and smothered her – no need to make her feel pain, she had done nothing to him, but he could not risk being interrupted this time. The woman’s flailing and muffled cries slowly abated till they stopped. “One down… One to go”. He stood over Reynold’s bed, raised scalpel glinting softly with deadly intent. “I knew you’d be back” the boy’s soft voice startling Vernon so much that the scalpel fell with a clatter onto the floor. Vernon looked as the boy, who was now sitting upright in his bed, meeting his eyes without blinking, not afraid. He silently knelt down and picked the scalpel and moved closer to the boy.

Julian didn’t know why he was outside Jeanette’s place, he just kind of found himself there. He’d written a letter for her somewhere along the line as well and had slipped it under her door. Risky yes, what with all the cops around, but he managed to do so without being seen. “I don’t know what is going on… or what and how this has happened… but I swear that I will get to the bottom of this… I love you Jeanette, always remember that…” Jeanette didn’t know what to make of the letter, or how he’d managed to get the note to her without being seen. She stared at the letter, her mind trying to make sense of what was in front of her as seeds of doubt planted themselves in her mind.

“What the hell am I doing?!” Vernon’s mind screamed at him as he looked at the sleeping Reynold next to him on the passenger seat of the stolen car. The boy followed him without question as he led him out the house and snuck past the cop car. Vernon saw the scars and bruises, both old and new along the child’s body. “You deserve what you got boy!!! Don’t make me come there and give you more!!!” Vernon shuddered as the memories came to him. This boy was him, just a younger version. Now, however, he was saddled with him. He’d told him about what his father did to him, and how his mother just let it all happen. He gently roused the boy from his slumber and led him to his house, “It’s time…” he whispered softly to him, to which he simply nodded – all signs of sleep gone from his young face – as they stood over Melanie Pierson’s sleeping form.

Julian had to find the boy – find out what he knew. He’d silently crept through the boy’s house, when he came across the Mrs. Pierson still sleeping in her bed. “Mrs. Pierson?” he called softly not wanting to startle her. “Mrs. Pierson?” he called again when she didn’t respond. Silence. Julian switched on the bed light and pulled the sheet covering her and reeled back in horror. Her face was contorted in pain and her mouth stuck in a silent scream. The blood from her wounds had soaked in to sheets; he saw the gaping wounds across her face, neck, arms and the congealing rivulets of blood running from them. Julian got out the house as quickly as he could, the only thing running through his head was Jeanette – she was in serious danger, but from who?!

Cameldo sat at her desk, holding her head in her hands: the boy was missing, Melanie Pierson was dead, and Julian was still at large. All indications showed that it was the same killer, but there was something wrong with this murder: it was not as clean as the previous ones – it was sloppy, the wounds a little different, and the coroner’s report indicated that she was dead even before the third wound was made. “What the hell did all this mean?” she pondered as she lifted her head and once again looked through Julain’s profile.

Vernon pulled the blanket over the boy gently. The boy was tired, he’d been through a lot, learnt a lot, and he’d fallen asleep almost as soon as his little head touched the pillow. He’d watched proudly as Reynold had sliced his mother’s throat open with the scalpel, just like he had shown him not even an hour before. How the boy, unsure at first but slowly gaining confidence, continued to slice through the muscles, his tiny muscles balled in unchecked fury, the all-too-familiar heavy breathing of accomplishment when he’d collapsed in sheer exhaustion with a strange smile and glazed look in his eyes. Fair enough the wound to her neck was too deep and she’d died quicker than he’d wanted, but he was young, he’d learn the tricks of the trade. And besides, what better teacher could the boy have then him, Vernon Meldor, to show him how to wreak his vengeance on those who had hurt him? Now, there were just a few things that needed to be done, and the one thing high up on his list of things to do: Jeanette Cornley.

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EDITOR'S NOTE

Whether we like to admit it or not, we know that there are angels and demons among us. But it is not the aspect of religion by which we know them: they are the experiences of our past, the people around us, and how we deal with our past and let those around us into our lives. They provide us with the tools of how to live our lives, both good and bad. We let them in because we inadvertently give them that level of trust. You know them as the person that you can call anytime when a problem arises, with their own unique perspective on what to do, and how to handle it. We value their opinion, and always consider what they have to say, a lot of the time ignoring others, including ourselves. Why do we do it? Because by human nature, we want to fit in – we want to belong, and most importantly, we don’t want to be alone in the world. There is always at least one person who we turn to when we feel our world is crumbling around us. Do we know however whether these people are giving us the right advice? Your best friend, who knows you better than your own siblings or parents, who betrayed you and stole your girlfriend, boyfriend, husband or wife? Your work friend, who sat with you and joked around with you during lunchtime and talked about so many intimate things, that happened to stab you in the back just to get a promotion. How many of us have been burned by the heartbreak of finding out that your significant other, whom we gave our heart and soul to, was nothing more than a liar and a cheat? And so, the question begs to be asked: do you know who are your angels and demons?

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The Gemini - IV - Invisibly Visible

Jeanette awoke to the quietly methodical blipping and beeping of hospital machinery. Confusion reigned supreme in her head – what happened? Why was she in hospital? Why was she in so much pain? As her eyes slowly gained more focus, she saw Julian uncomfortably sleeping in a chair at the side of her bed, his hand gently holding hers. Panic began to edge its way into her mind as slowly she started remembering what happened. Who was that guy that saved her life? For the life of her she couldn’t remember his face. “Jeanie… You’re awake! Thank God!” the relief in Julian’s voice was immediately apparent as he gently hugged her as she wept quietly, “The doctors said that you might not make it.”. Something kept nagging in the back of Jeanette’s mind, but she ignored it.

“Enjoy your time together… it won’t last long” Vernon mused to himself. He had plans – big plans. He almost lost out on his plans due to that stupid bloody cop, but he sorted that out. “Vernon… VERNON!!! Get your ass here boy!!!!” he shut the voices out – consuming it with thoughts of what he was going to do with Jeanette. The scars of his memories always made him weak – a time of his life when he had no control. With his plan almost complete, Vernon was ready.
Three months painfully passed for Jeanette, the scars still visible across her body. Through it all, Julian was there – quietly and gently supporting her, guiding her, being there for her. She honestly didn’t know how she would have managed without him. As he guided her slowly in the wheelchair out of the hospital, she could not help but heave a sigh of relief that she was finally out of there. He ushered her through the door of his apartment, and she headed straight for his bed. “I’ll be back for you…”, Jeanette awoke from her nightmare, beads of sweat bursting through her skin, waking Julian with her loud whimpering. But she’d almost seen his face this time.
Inspector Tracy Cameldo raised her tired eyes from the case file in front of her. “The Judge”, she thought bitterly, “They’ve given him a bloody name now”. The papers were making him out to be some kind of hero – all the victims were abusive, all with prior cases of domestic violence. With the psychotic actions and subsequent death of Reading, Tracy was now in charge of the case. Nothing, absolutely nothing to go on – except Julian Grawling, but which piece of this puzzle was he? He was squeaky clean, adopted at the age of 3, was never in any trouble with the law – nothing. She perused over the victim’s mangled bodies deep in thought.

Melanie meekly ate her Greek salad, while Barry munched noisily on his double steak. She did her best not to make him angry, but over the last 5 months it was becoming more and more difficult. Vernon watched from outside the restaurant, he knew what he had to do. He followed them at a safe distance as they went home and waited patiently for the lights in their large house to go out. Quietly he entered the house, moving quietly towards the kitchen where he knew Barry would be getting yet another late night snack. Vernon slunk behind him and deftly slid the razor sharp blade effortlessly through Barry’s throat. A soft shuffle of moving feet stopped Vernon mid-slice. A kid stood in shock at the sight of his nearly dead father lying in a spreading pool of blood in front of him, followed almost immediately by a piercing scream of terror. Vernon fled.

A witness!!!! Cameldo’s mind was reeling! Unfortunately, the poor kid was so traumatized that he would not talk, still a lead nonetheless. The station was abuzz with activity, pictures strewn across the walls and tables – geographical plottings of victims’ houses, scribbled note, everything in some chaotic semblance of order. The now deceased Barry’s son, Reynold, sat quietly in the Special Care Unit room, a few toys lying around him. His blank eyes staring out into nothingness as he rocked back and forth mindlessly humming “hush little baby” continuously. The inspector watched him with a heavy heart – what that poor child had to endure and what was going through his mind she could only imagine.

How could he have been so careless? Everything was worked out – meticulous! ALWAYS be prepared! But he wasn’t prepared for this. A kid saw him… a goddamn kid. Vernon knew what he had to do, but could he? Too many times in his life he had to face the brunt of beatings as a kid. No – getting rid of the kid was the only option he had. He stared at the full moon, shining back at him in gleeful mockery. He had become what his father always said he would amount to be – a failure. “I gotta do what I gotta do,” more to justify the choice to himself and his heart than anything else.

He’s talking!!!!! Cameldo raced through to the two-way mirror as Reynold spoke softly to the sketch artist. The dainty artist asked short, concise questions yet knowingly kept away from those which would clam the already traumatized child up, as she would stop to make a few strokes of her pencil – a face slowly coming to life on the page. Julian awoke to Jeanette’s barely audible whimpers as she tossed and turned in her sleep. God alone knew what she was dreaming, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He’d lived his guarded life on his own, building himself up, making himself more than he ever wanted or could have been – and yet he wanted to give himself, his all, to her.

“Jesus H Christ!” Cameldo gasped as she looked at the final sketch, “Get the squad out there!!! NOW!!!!!” she screamed. At the same time, Jeanette awoke from her nightmare – everything that happened that night filled her mind. She saw his face!!!! She looked around to Julian – her eyes landing on him. “It was you!!! YOU were the one!!!” she shrieked, “OH MY GOD!!!! IT WAS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!”, she tumbled off the bed, scrambling backwards on her haunches as an astonished Julian looked at her with a bewildered look on his face.

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EDITORS NOTE

We live in a world of uncertainty. The only thing that is certain is who we believe ourselves, and others, to be. We live our lives showing one side of ourselves to everyone else, while we know there is another. We make sure that side of our lives stay hidden, closely guarding that which we believe is precious to us. Those parts of our lives which will make others perceive us as different if they knew. We never truly know someone else, but we accept it, because we believe we know better. As much as we believe that we know as much about ourselves we do our best to keep ourselves to ourselves, selfishly guarding our deepest and darkest secrets, whether consciously or subconsciously, keeping ourselves invisibly visible.

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