The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 45

Stepping up to the desk, Caspian paid the bill for his night in the hotel. He couldn’t help but look at the clerk with disdain. After all, how inconsiderate does one have to be to stand by and watch a child being abused over ice cream? It didn’t make sense. But the act of violence rarely does. As the woman pulled out into traffic, Caspian noticed she was headed in the direction of Peck Lake. Taking his time, he memorized her plate number, got into his car, and carefully followed behind. He would not dispatch of her immediately to dodge any suspicion but head back to the place in the woods where he had camped previously. But when he arrived at the point where he had entered before, he noticed a different set of tire tracks. Getting out, he investigated further and found shoe prints leading into the woods. Deciding not to follow, he returned to his car and drove to the other side of the lake. There, he discovered a heavy stand of pine that seemed to go on forever. He looked around for a trail wide enough to drive through and, finding nothing, drove to the entrance road on the western side of the lake. On the left was a parking lot with a trailhead nearby. He would hike the trail, then leave it and walk several miles south. Even if his car was spotted, he would be deep into the woods, where he would set up a camp using branches and underbrush as construction for a shelter.

Grabbing his pack, he threw in what he needed for an extended stay. Hiding himself effectively meant that he would have to avoid cooking. The smell might attract not only animals but anyone who might suspect his presence. This was something he wanted to avoid, hoping instead to remain as invisible as possible. Only then would he be able to search out his target. Leaving his car in the parking lot, Caspian began his hike; being unaware of the topography of the area, he was forced to stop several times to rest. While at the camping store, he had purchased a guidebook to the hiking trails in the Peck Lake area. Using this, he hiked roughly six miles before turning off into the woods. In order to avoid walking in circles, he walked from tree to tree, picking out a tree in front of him and walking to that. The technique seemed to work, and an hour later he found a spot that was ideal for setting up camp. Addressing the book on survival he had also purchased, he followed a set of instructions that resulted in a well-concealed encampment that would only be seen by those who were specifically looking for it. Having brought a shovel, Caspian made sure that most of it was underground with a tarp lining the dirt beneath him as well as the sides. This would allow for any rainwater to remain outside the shelter. His priorities were clear: water, food, and rest. Tomorrow he would set out to find the car driven by the woman who had all but beaten her child over ice cream—ice cream of all things. He still found it unbelievable that anyone could react that way over something so innocuous as ice cream. Certainly children require discipline, but not by the hand of violence. By the time Caspian was finished, this monstrous woman would bear no more children. And she would know the meaning of suffering. Perhaps not akin to what she put her child through, but she would suffer.

He constructed his shelter within a distant view of the lake’s east side, remembering that was where the woman had driven to on her way to the cabin she was likely renting. Very few people actually owned land, as it was far less expensive to rent for a few weeks. So for a few nights he sat up with binoculars in hand, scanning the lake for something he’d never forget. After two nights, its image finally fell into view. The car the woman drove off in was almost right in front of him by about 600 feet. Taking notice of the cabin it had been parked in front of Caspian made it his mission to watch it intently for anyone entering or leaving and would keep count of who they were—usually by physical description. The night can steal away appearances of anything, and Caspian’s binoculars were not suited with night vision. Once his plan of attack began, he would have to be careful not to expose his movements through the piney growth and moonless night. The voice in his head urged him to move forward and attack.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” it demanded. “I need to eat, God dammit! And I don’t care who it is! Bring me one of those kids; I don’t give a fuck! I’m hungry!” Caspian was becoming frustrated with the constant demands and quietly responded.

“We need to take our time,” he said. “I can’t just go storming in now, can I?” The voice growled in his head, further making its impatience known. Trying to soothe the monster, Caspian responded with an empty promise, hoping to quiet the rage churning in his soul.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Soon.”

He spent hours scanning the lakeshore and cabins until he heard a scream. The sound bore the familiar tone of a panicked child, and moving out of the woods, he walked towards it. The closer he got, the more familiar it became until he found himself standing in front of a white cabin. Its exterior bore the signs of something that had seen better days, displaying the effects of wind, rain, and cold. By this time darkness had overtaken the lake and everything surrounding it, giving Caspian ample cover to do what the voice in his mind commanded. Getting closer to the cabin, he quietly walked up to a window and peering through the heavily stained glass was horrified by what he saw. Though the meaning of motherhood had escaped her, she had taken it upon herself to discipline her child further as she chased him around the cabin with a thin length of wood. The child, having been stripped naked, ran around the cabin trying to find a place that offered him the safety of cover. But although he seemed to have found an ideal place, it was his whimpering that gave him away.

“Now!” the voice commanded. “Do it now!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Caspian ran to the front door and, finding it unlocked, threw it open.

There he found the woman holding the naked child in one hand and the narrow board in the other. “Fuck her up!” the voice continued. With a single punch, Caspian rendered the woman unconscious, and as he bent over her, he looked up at the child and spoke with a commanding voice. “Get some clothes on,” he said. “Find a place to hide.”

Looking back down where the woman still lay, the voice seemed to express compassion.

“Don’t let him see this,” it said. “One traumatized child is enough.” Kneeling down, Caspian straddled the woman’s waist and, ripping her blouse open, let the monster out to speak.

“Are you my mommy?” it asked. “Don’t you know who I am, mommy?” With this question, Caspian ripped off her bra and, grasping one of her breasts, forced it into his mouth. As in previous killings, he bit through her skin as well as the fat beneath and connective tissue. The flow of blood was both heavy and immediate. The texture, however, although familiar, forced Caspian to vomit as blood and tissue ran down his chin and onto the woman’s stomach. But he wasn’t finished and was spitting out what had not been swallowed, chewed off the other breast.

“Mommy,” the voice repeated. The blood was warm and heavy as he continued burying his face in the deep wound he had chewed out of her chest. The voice made one last proclamation as Caspian raised his head from the exposed meat left behind by his vicious assault.

“I love you mommy!”

His mouth filled with blood and fatty tissue, leaving his voice with a gurgling sound that even he found disgusting. But the monster inside always seemed to know what it wanted, and it always got what it wanted.