The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 33

With no other conversation to be had, Reuben left the room as Caspian readied himself for bed. Still, he felt no remorse for his actions. In fact, he not only believed Ava deserved what she got but also that society was better off without her. Had she been left to go on her way, she would, no doubt, do more damage to those she judged. The only unfortunate part was that Aiden would likely be the one to serve time for a crime he didn’t commit. Sure enough, the next evening’s news broadcast the closure of Ava’s murder case when it was announced that a young man named Aiden had been apprehended in connection with the case. Several neighbors had attested that he was the last person seen with Ava, so with the heavy vault of suspicion resting upon him, he was taken into custody on a murder charge as well as several sex crimes. Aiden’s fate was sealed in stone, and in spite of his insistence that he was innocent, the final verdict handed down by the jury was guilty. Aiden’s life was over.

Whether out of a sense of guilt or curiosity, Caspian had been following the case and seeing where Aiden in an orange jumpsuit and five-point chains led him to feel just a little sorry for him. But this feeling soon passed as the voice from his head returned. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” it began. “People like us don’t feel sorry for anyone. They’re going to go to hell anyway, so fuck them. They deserve it.”

Whenever the voice spoke, it was always brief but always to the point. Caspian would simply nod his head in response, understanding every word. Three nights later, the voice spoke again.

“Caspian,” it said. Caspian tried to ignore it, knowing the outcome if he followed its instructions. “Caspian!” it repeated. “Get off your fucking ass. You want another one, right? I know you do, you piece of shit. Now get up!”

Any murderer or serial killer knows that the first thing one does is collect information, choosing a target worthy of the effort put in to take their life. This was the first step, and his hunting ground would be as it was before— school. Only there would Caspian be able to survey the crowd for his next victim. It had to be someone especially cruel or obviously weak. The perfect target would be both, as most bullies were people who were hiding behind a veil of cowardice. This was what he wanted. They could be either male or female; it didn’t really matter. Their blood would still be just as red.