The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 41

Caspian possessed something not many other students had—intelligence. At some point during his time in high school, his I.Q. was measured along with many other students, and while most scored in the 120 range, Caspian’s score was 134. He never told anyone for fear of being harassed. So, when it came to learning to drive, he turned out to be a quick study, learning not only the traffic safety laws but every technique known to safe driving. In short, he was a natural and completed the course with an ‘A’. Meanwhile, the police were continuing to investigate both murders, but thus far there was no pressure placed on Caspian. Outside of Reuben’s suspicions, no one had any other idea that he was solely responsible for both deaths.

Graduation came and went. Personally, Caspian didn’t care if he graduated or not, as he planned on leaving the area anyway. A week later he bought his first car—a 1981 Chrysler K-Car. It wasn’t much to look at, and Caspian hoped anyone seeing it would think the same. But in the event he was seen driving it, he purchased at least a dozen cans of forest green spray paint and six rolls of wide painter’s tape. Although he had never painted a car before, he believed it to be a rather simple process but would only resort to it if he needed to. However, thinking the matter through, they decided the best place to paint the car was deep in the woods. It was the ideal place to paint a car forest green, and even if someone was looking for him, his chances of being discovered should be quite low.

There were two car dealers in Johnstown, and upon initial investigation, Caspian found exactly what he was looking for. A light grey color suggested a low profile, and when Caspian made his way through New York, he hoped that the color would keep him hidden. But it needed a bit of touching up. This would be accomplished soon after he left town. But first, he needed to say goodbye to Reuben and Dorothy. They had done so much for him, putting up with his odd behavior and the fear he might be involved in the murders everyone had heard about. Sitting down in the living room, he asked the two to come out for a conversation. Heeding his request, they walked into the living room and, turning off the TV, sat waiting for him to begin.

“Well,” Caspian began. “School’s finally over, and I suppose I have to do something with my life.” Reuben and Dorothy hung on his every word.

“So,” he continued. “I’ve decided to leave. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I don’t think I should stay here.” Dorothy interrupted. She knew what his issues were just as Reuben did and felt a particularly strong bond with him.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this given how your mother treated you,” she began. “But I’ve felt close to you—maybe like a mom, I don’t know. I don’t know if you even need a mom but if you ever get tired of wandering you know you can always come back. After all, this is your home.”

Caspian was stunned. He had always seen Reuben and Dorothy as foster parents—nothing more. They were just two people who, he thought, had been forced to put up with him by the legal system. He never expected they would actually form the bond of family. Reuben began wiping tears from his eyes as he gathered his words.

“Caspian,” he said. “You know that we’ve never had kids, and I’ve never had a son.”

He shifted his weight as tears continued to well up.

“Truth is, I’ve done my best to be a dad to you. I’m not your father, but I thought I might be your dad. I’ve listened to you when things got rough and worried when you were out later than I thought you should be. I guess we’re both going to miss you, but you’re eighteen now, and you have the right to live as you like. But if you ever want to come back and visit, the door is always open.”

Caspian was not ready for what he heard. He had always tried to avoid emotional situations—girlfriends mostly. But from his foster parents? What he heard completely took him by surprise. It was emotional enough that he felt the need to break away from something that confused him. Anger was the only emotion he understood, and it was what he thrived on. He not only took strength from it but also felt the high that accompanied it with its exercise.

He was not much for soppy words or long goodbyes, but acknowledging their feelings, Caspian got up and hugged both of them. What happened next surprised everyone—he began crying. It was only a slight flow of tears, but anyone who saw it would say that he was crying. He felt a tear running down his cheek and stopping abruptly, collected himself, grabbed his jacket, and walked out the front door. If he needed to come back, he would, but it wasn’t likely. All he needed were his own thoughts, his own mind—a life of his own. Caspian believed that going out on his own was the best way to acquire it, and there was one other reason. Going out amongst strangers would offer a broader selection of targets to feed on. It was finally coming together. In his dark, traumatized mind, he had become a vampire.

It seemed a bit oversimplistic, but it was the only explanation for his craving for blood and violence. It was the only reason he seemed to target women, and he enjoyed what he did to them. What he couldn’t seem to do was penetration. He would not rape them. It was an act that, while he thought about it, was physically incapable of performing. Perhaps if he met someone and she invited him to take part in the sexual act, he might be able to accommodate her. At least, he hoped for such an opportunity but did not expect one to be forthcoming.