“Bloody Thursday”
Alex P. Keaton wiped the blood from his combat knife with a clean white rag. A smile of deep satisfaction lit up his boyish face. The hippie had gone down quick and easy. Alex had scored another victory for the American Way. He unrolled a large amount of thick clear plastic sheeting and placed the body on it.
His mind turned to cleaning the rest of the mess. Getting caught wasn’t an option. He got out his cleaning supplies from his bag and began cleaning the copious amounts of blood that had been spilled. He knew from experience to do this first because as the blood congealed it became harder to clean. He scrubbed and wiped until he could see no trace.
Alex took out his hand held power saw and without a trace of emotion, began to slice the body apart. He was precise with everything but particularly with his dismemberment. His cuts were perfectly measured. It took him an hour to get the body to completely fit into his new Coleman Picnic Cooler that he had bought for this occasion. He was glad this hippie was of the skinny variety.
Alex rolled up the bloody sheeting and then packed up his gear. He knew he had to be leaving soon in order to maintain his facade of normalcy. His parents believed he was at a Young Republicans meeting and he would have to hurry to sustain that belief. Alex hated driving recklessly with a mutilated corpse in his vehicle. He knew that it increased the risk he was taking. However, he was afraid what would happen if his parents ever started putting the pieces together. He knew that the clues were all there and had the unshakable suspicion that the slightest mistake would avalanche and culminate with him sitting on the electric chair.
He gave the place one more inspection, making absolutely sure that no trace of his presence could be found. The ice chest was heavy but Alex managed to drag and manhandle it into the back of his station wagon. He walked back inside, grabbed his duffel bag and once again wiped for prints. Whenever he killed he was haunted by the thought of some fingerprint he had missed. He would often compulsively wipe the same things over and over again. He had no time for such luxury today. He tried to calm the nagging doubts as he climbed into his car.
As Alex drove through the crisp Columbus night, he relived each moment of the kill. The pristine moment when life left the hippie’s body as Alex twisted the knife into his heart took only a brief second but as Alex reminisced, it seemed to last hours. Alex savored that memory like a glass of expensive wine. His mind sniffed it slow and rolled it around, admiring every subtle feature.
His mind snapped back to the present as he turned down the street to his home. He would have to deal with his family soon. He needed to calm himself and play the role he had created. He would rely on his instinctive charm to get by. He pulled the car into the driveway and turned the key. The station wagon sputtered to silence.
This was the tricky part. Alex thought to himself. He had to get the ice chest from the car to the side of the house. Hopefully, his family wouldn’t be outside or notice what he was doing. He planned on taking the chest to Alum Creek in the morning but had to get it out of the car in case somebody needed to drive before then. The chest made an audible “thwack” sound when it slipped out of his grasp and hit the driveway. Alex cringed. He feverishly glared at the front door as he dragged the chest across the concrete.
Thankfully, nobody came out. Alex grabbed his bag from the car and walked in. Three familiar faces turned to look when he opened the door. His father and mother along with his youngest sister were eating popcorn and watching T.V. together.
“Hey Alex” Jennifer cheerfully called out to him. His parents both smiled and his father nodded. They always seemed so pleased to see him. If they knew him for who he truly was, they would just as cheerfully watch him burn.
“Hey Jen, how are you doing?” He asked. He was happy to not see his mouth breathing sister Mallory. Ever since she ruined his chance to go to Princeton, he had to choke back vile words and calm the urge to strangle her.
“Where’s Mal?” He asked, carefully disguising his hate.
“She’s out with Nick. How was your meeting?” His mother asked.
Bile entered the back of Alex’s throat at the mention of Nick. He placed Mallory one step above orangutans in intelligence. Nick however, was on par with retarded rocks when it came to mental prowess.
“It was great. We had an amazing discussion regarding supply side economics.” He replied. Judging by their vacant stares, he knew he didn’t have to go any farther.
“I’m sure it was very interesting.” Jen replied sarcastically as the family returned their attention to the T.V.
Your time is coming bitch. Alex thought to himself as he headed upstairs to his room.
Alex walked into his room and placed his duffel bag under his bed. He had lots of things to take care of in the morning, but all he wanted to do now was revel in the memory of his recent kill. He flung himself onto his bed and crossed his arms behind his head. He lost himself in memories for a few precious moments.
Someone knocked on the door and Alex opened his eyes and glared at it in frustration.
“Alex, we need to talk.” His father said from the other side.
Alex sighed. It was no use denying his father whenever he took it upon himself to give some parental advice. He again mustered up his considerable boyish charm.
“Come on in Dad.” he said.
Steven opened the door. There was a faint look of sadness in his eyes as he walked over to Alex’s bed.
“Son, I know things look bad for you right now. Not getting into Princeton must have been a huge blow for you. Your mother and I have both been noticing some changes in your attitude.” His Dad began.
Alex’s heart skipped a beat. He did not want his parents noticing differences in his behavior. One thing always led to another and he couldn’t afford to have them digging into his psyche.
“Dad, I’ll be okay. I was bummed for a while. You know, with my life-long dream being crushed under the 3 inch heel of my sister. But I’m getting over it.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he spoke.
Alex could see a broken fragment of popcorn sitting amongst his father’s dark grey beard. It nearly drove him insane as it sat there waggling up and down. He had force himself not reach out rip it from his Dad’s face and then give him a good slap for being so sloppy.
His dad took a long look at him and slowly shook his head.
“You’ve been distant lately and not just toward your sister. You gotta let things go son. Holding on to anger and frustration is like eating the entire bowl of salsa at a party…at the time it might taste good but you’ll just end up with terrible heartburn and no friends.” Steven said solemnly.
Alex cringed on the inside, but twitched the corners of his mouth into a smile for his father’s sake. He plumbed his mind for something that would placate his father. His voice cracked a little as he spoke.
“You know, for someone that works for a non-profit organization, you’re actually an ok guy.”
Steven smiled warmly at his son while nodding. He put his hand on Alex’s shoulder and said,
“Someday you’re going to be very rich and just maybe you’ll find happiness too.”
“Dad…they’re the same thing.” Alex replied.
Steven chuckled at Alex’s quip as he walked out the door. As the door shut, Alex’s eyes hardened. He had thought about killing his father many times, but he had too many conflicting emotions. No matter how enjoyable the fantasy was, he knew he could never do it in real life.
Or could he?
Posts
