The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 36

Cracking the door open, Caspian gently pushed, managing to avoid any creaking that might have otherwise given him away. Knowing there was no one else within the immediate area was not enough. He felt he still had to remain as silent as possible if he was to succeed at feeding the monster that now rattled its chains, screaming to be let loose.

“Wait,” he whispered. “It won’t be long now.”

Walking quietly into the house took him through the kitchen, and stopping at the silverware drawer, he thought it a wise idea to grab a serrated knife from the drawer. With the knife in hand and a fist-sized rock in his jacket pocket, Caspian considered what path she would take after walking through the front door. The staircase was to its left, but there was the possibility she might go to the kitchen first before retiring to bed. With these possibilities considered, Caspian concluded that the best place to wait for her was the bedroom. The room where one sleeps is supposed to be a place of safety. No harm should be brought when one is safely tucked away from a psychotic world. But tonight that world would be brought into the teacher’s house and allowed the full force of its will. As to the Satanic Bible by Anton Szandor LaVey: Do as thou wilt is the whole of the law. These words would soon take shape as the driveway suddenly lit up with a bright light.

“Shit,” Caspian whispered. On that word he flew up the stairs, and finding the bedroom, hid behind its open door. His body filled with tension as he heard the woman open the front door, and walking in produced the clicking sound of what he imagined to be high heels. Remaining absolutely still, he heard her complain about the absence of available men in the Johnstown area, being unaware that she would soon meet one.

Climbing the stairs, she took off her shoes and tossed them over the rail. She then removed her jacket and threw it on a chair just below the rail. She was in the process of undressing as she made her way to the bedroom, and standing in front of her bed, she reached under her blouse and, pulling out her bra, threw it on her dresser. Having no idea that her killer was standing only a few feet behind her, she also removed the bra and flung it across the room, cursing about how restrictive it was. Seeing the gift she presented, Caspian's mouth watered as the firmness of arousal began.

Within moments the woman turned around to face the dark shape of her attacker, at which point Caspian jumped out and, grabbing her by the throat, flung her to the floor. She attempted to scream, but Caspian brought out the rock he had been keeping in his pocket and beat it against her head. He wanted her just conscious enough to know what was happening to her but disabled enough to avoid a fight. Two strikes were enough. Now she lay on the floor of her bedroom bleeding from a deep scalp wound and only able to move without purpose. There was no defense against what would happen next as Caspian rolled her over onto her back. Gazing at her exposed breasts, he threw himself down and took one into his mouth. Grasping it firmly, he pushed himself down until he had as much of its warmth in his mouth. “What are you doing?” she muttered. He raised his head, releasing her long enough to speak.

“I heard you scream at those kids,” he said. “You’re supposed to teach them, not traumatize them.”

He made his statement while caressing her breast.

“It’s too bad these have to come off,” he continued. “I know how much you must enjoy them.”

The woman, correctly believing she was about to die, began whimpering. “Please.”

This plea for mercy was met with another strike against the side of her head, rendering the woman nearly unconscious. As her eyes flickered with awareness, Caspian again launched himself down, and taking her breast into his mouth, clenched his teeth. Feeling the warm tissue of what may have someday fed an infant, he wriggled his head violently until the breast tore away. Straddling her hips, Caspian placed his hands on the floor as his head hung over the woman’s bleeding chest. He managed to spit out most of the fatty tissue, and gazing into the woman’s panicked eyes, he managed only one statement as blood dripped from his mouth.

“I love you, Mommy.”

The woman looked at him with both fear and confusion as Caspian gave her a slight smile.

“Are you my mommy?” he asked. It was not the pain of having one of her breasts ripped from her body but the terror of being attacked by someone who might soon do something far worse. He looked into her eyes and, with a slight grin, softly spoke to her with a teasing tone.

“Now I have to take the other one.” With both hands he tightly grasped the remaining breast, and taking it fully into his mouth, clenched down and, thrashing his head about, ripped the supple tissue from its underlying moorings. With his mouth filled, Caspian eased back and let the bleeding lump fall from his mouth as a smile etched itself across his face. “Isn’t that better, Mommy?” he said. “You really didn’t need those anyway, did you?”

Picking up the rock again, Caspian spoke to her one last time. “You have no idea how much I enjoy this, Mommy,” he said.

His voice continued with an almost infantile tone as he held the rock over his head. Then it transformed into the angry voice of the young man who had for so long been abused by a woman taken over by mental illness—the product of her own trauma. “Don’t worry,” he said. “In two days I’ll be at your funeral, standing at the side of your casket, and no one will know that I put you there.” His face twisted with rage as he held the rock over his head and, with a sudden explosion of revenge, beat the rock down on the woman’s head. After a dozen strikes, he sat back, and looking into her eyes, noticed they had become dilated. Putting his fingers to the side of her throat, he felt the absence of a pulse and thus the absence of life. He had to be sure. Should she regain consciousness, a county-wide manhunt would begin with a single phone call. True to his word, Caspian stood at the side of her casket two days later, seeming to pay his respects. Another pawn had fallen, but the game was far from over.