Page 127 of Love Me in the Dark
Clearing my throat, I remove my glasses and give my best impression of my father.
“We’ve been upholding this tradition for five generations. When it first started, it was just random days. A way for ourfamilies, bonded in their love, controlling their lust for blood and violence, to ease their deep-seated desire. Each generation strived for perfection, and with your grandparents’ fine-tuning, we saw no need to change anything, as you won’t either.”
I clear my throat again, pausing for a moment as I pretend to gesture toward the picture of our grandfathers, each of them covered in blood and wearing their mask of choice.
“Dude, you look just like your old man.” He’s doubled over, laughing.
As I’m about to open my mouth to start again, Jensen opens the door, stepping into the living room. He stops mid-step as his gaze shifts between us.
“What the fuck is going on?” He drops his keys on the table and his book bag on the floor.
“Just practicing my father’s speech for when our children come of age,” I say in all seriousness.
“Then I came home just in time.” He laughs, shuts the door, and steps over to the couch, sitting beside Hals. “Please continue,” he gestures.
“Where was I? Oh, yeah.” I shake my head, returning to character.
“It was our fathers who took it to a whole new level with their love of horror movies, specificallyFriday the 13th. Now we have designated days within the year where our killer nature and love of the classics can mesh. We have always kept it to our three families, though others longed to be like us, to share our royalty. They just weren’t worthy enough.”
Both Jensen and Hals are in stitches from laughing so hard. Each of them is as sick of hearing this speech as I am.
“Four people, four deaths. Each of us picks someone who we feel deserves to die. One by one, we exact our revenge until three are gone.” I stop mid-speech for an exaggerated pause just like my father, who seems to think it gives it some dramatic effect.
It doesn’t. More than anything, it’s annoying as fuck.
“Leaving us with the fourth, a female. We take our turns fucking her as she bleeds out on our cocks until she takes her last breath. At the end of the night, our mask of choice is cleaned and put away until the next time the thirteenth rolls around.”
I take a deep breath, gearing up for the final spiel.
“This year marks your last thirteenth; there will be no more. When your male children come of age and go to our alma mater, they will uphold the tradition, as a new generation comes into succession.”
I bow as if I just put on the best performance of my life on Broadway.
“Except this time they’re wrong.” Jensen’s deep voice fills the room. “We have no intention of giving up this high. We’re going to ride it out until our dying breath, no longer under the grip of their control.” He’s voicing what each of us has felt since our first kill. “We’ll rule how we continue this. We’ll no longer be bound to a certain day, because of our grandfather's stupid obsession with a movie franchise.”
While our fathers believe our murderous virginity was taken our freshman year, it was long before that. Since we hit twelve, we’ve been killing. First, it was animals as we honed our skill set. Then when we became teenagers, we’d sneak out into the dark of night, ridding the streets of its vermin. It’s why we always go after those who’ve harmed others. Think of us as vigilantes for justice.
Well, except for Jensen. This year, he’s choosing to settle a personal vendetta. We’re okay with it; we all hate the fucker.
“I’m getting another beer. Who wants one?”
They both nod, but before I leave the room, Jensen’s phone rings—an annoying Joker laugh, linked to his father’s number.
“Answer so we can get this over with. The charity case will be here soon,” I remind him.
“Dad, so nice to hear from you,” Jensen speaks before his father can say anything.
5
Unknown
If they think they can keep me from my rightful spot ruling this shithole of a school, they’re fucking crazy.
They’ve always thought they were better than everyone else, using us for whatever their perverted pleasures desire. But they’re wrong.
They think we’re all sheep who should bow before them, but I’m no sheep.
I may listen and do as they say now, let them use for me their kicks, but I’m not stupid. I’m getting what I want too. The fact that they’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of their faces is laughable.
