Page 4 of Lunatic
I don’t know much about Alexsander outside of these walls. I only see what goes on here, but I imagine, in his practice, everything is above board, to prevent people from finding out the monster he is. Only those of us here are lucky enough to see what a sadistic asshole he is.
“I may need your help with her. If you want in.”
I run a hand through my short dark hair and bob my head.
“Yeah, I want in.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he arches an eyebrow.
“The kill is mine.”
I don’t argue, but I’m not surprised. We’re both serial killers, but everything that happens before their death is the prelude for him. It’s their end that gets him off. He’ll fuck a living woman, but it’s the dead ones he really likes.
I’m not better than he is, just a different kind of fucked up. Yes, I kill people, but I don’t do it out of boredom. There’s normally an incident that leads to me skinning people alive. I don’t kill as a hobby, but Alexsander, I’m not so sure about. He kills innocent women just to do it. The moment she walked into his office, it was decided. I don’t limit my kills to onlywomen, unlike Dr. Death. He has a type; Long dark hair, ivory colored skin, and brown eyes. If I had to guess, I’d say he has mommy issues. Although, I can’t judge, because my parents are responsible for the fucked up piece of shit I have become. This is why I’ll never want kids. Parents fuck children up. I don’t care how much love they have for their spawn, they still cause them irreparable trauma. Killers are not born, they are fucking made. Mine created the monster I am, and they aren’t even here to answer for it. I remember the dayLorenzo Bonetti Srdied from cancer. I was too late. I’m always too fucking late.
TWO YEARS AGO…
Today is the day I’m going to kill the man responsible for everything that’s happened to me. He’s the one who let Frank do that disgusting shit to me, and yes, he fucking knew about all of it. On more than one occasion, he even watched it. He never touched me like that, but it doesn’t fucking matter. Without him, it wouldn’t have happened. That’s not the only thing that pisses me off. I don’t want to be here, and he’s responsible for that too. He cheated on his wife with my mother, and created something that can only be described as an abomination. There’s no good in me, just like there is no good in them. I can’t kill Frank, since Bella Bonetti already did that, but Lorenzo is mine to torture and kill.
I pull up to his house in climbing gear, prepared to hoist myself over his gate, and sneak inside. I’m wearing all black, to blend in with the dark night so I won’t be seen.
Standing near the gate, covered from sight by the shadows of the trees, I hear a commotion at the guardhouse, as the gatesopen and three cars whip in, flying to the front of the house. I stand, watching, and spot them exiting their vehicles quickly.
Bones, Reaper, Kage, and Psycho Bonetti. The fucking assholes that have everything that should be mine. Instead, I’m the bastard, hidden in the darkness, like the secret mistake I am. Never quite good enough to be acknowledged. Then I spot their mother, Lucia Bonetti, racing out of the house, and into her sons’ arms one at a time, as she sobs uncontrollably.
Off in the distance, I hear the guards talking amongst themselves, and they confirm my worst suspicions.
“I can’t believe the Boss is dead. So sad.”
Fuck.
I’m too late for him, but not his sons.
I am a Bonetti, but only in name. These men are my enemies. They owe me their lives. And I always take what I am owed.
“Earth to Raven.”
My brain snaps back to the here and now, just in time to hear a scuffle behind me. I turn toward the sound, and spot Crystal and Nikki in a screaming match.
“You bitch! You’re fucking cheating again,” Nikki yells, before stabbing Crystal in the eye with a plastic spork, knocking over the table they were playing cards on. You would think plastic cutlery wouldn’t hurt that bad, but it cuts her skin between her eye and nose. I look on as Dr. Death walks over to them, I assume, to break up the fight. He stares into Crystal’s dark eyes, and I know she’s in trouble. She’s exactly his type.
“I have plans for you.” He chuckles darkly, before injecting drugs into her neck.
“We’re all mad here,” she says, with maniacal laughter through the vent connecting our rooms. I’m still in such disbelief that I’m in an asylum, of all places. I don’t belong here.
“I’m not insane,” I insist.
I can nearly hear her smile fade, as she sighs with something that sounds like pity.
“Oh, but you will be. Wellard Asylum takes any sanity a person has and shatters it. One day you’re sane, and the next, you’re talking to inanimate objects. You’ll see.”
The room itself is enough to depress anyone. The walls are white, or were, but are now dingy, giving them a gray appearance. It’s small, with only a twin bed on a metal frame, and a small matching table beside it. The most telling thing about it is the writing on the wall beside the mattress.
‘Just kill me’ has been carved into the paint, and I wonder about that person every time I look at it. Are they still alive? Did they get out of here? I hope they did, because I have trouble believing anybody gets well here.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, as I sit on the cold, unforgiving floor.
The girl in the room next to mine answers in a resigned voice.
