*Abduction: Awakening V
Posted on Tuesday, October 9th, 2007The irony that found me shaving, wasn’t lost upon me. It was my ritual - the ablutions I took more out of habit than anything else. My face was so often the last thing people saw, if nothing else, I considered it a courtesy. It was all business, and I didn’t do business with dirty hands. Hm. Bad choice of words.
I wet the blade and tapped it on the side of the sink. I shut the water off and carefully arranged each item in neat little rows, just as I had the day before. I needed a haircut. And, standing there, as I resisted the urge to take the hour long trip into the nearest town, I knew I was stalling.
I walked back into my bedroom, pulled on a shirt and fastened the cuffs, all while trying to digest whatever was keeping me from walking in there. I was saving her, even if she didn’t know it - couldn’t know it just yet. I wasn’t angry, which was a change from how I usually approached these things. Everyone else had deserved it. Everyone else took steps down the path that led them to meet me. Annerire was just stupid enough to fall for the wrong guy.
I’d known her for as long as I can remember, but never looked at her as any more than a pest. She followed Dante around like he had hung the moon and in spite of my brother’s intelligence, I doubted at 8 he could have done so. When I came back to save Dante what was left of his childhood, she wasn’t around. I never asked. I never questioned, because more often than not, the answer was something I wished I could unlearn. Some things were truly better left to the imagination - or to simply not thinking about.
Anne had simply moved away, I later learned, watching Dante pen a letter to her some time later. I’d raised my brother like any parent. I had worried about him. Put him on restriction when he came home late - that one time. I prayed every day that he would not become like me. Be consumed like I had been. God answered those prayers.
Rizzone had been reluctant to see me, the ‘bastard spawn’ of his sister. He never acknowledged the marriage that had once been, even when I came across the documents proving it was so. I was always Dean’s son - mixed blood, both sides bad. It was ignorance, and blind need that kept me coming to him. I didn’t know at the time why he bothered with me, someone who, so clearly, wasn’t ‘enough’ and came from another family’s gene pool. I think now, it was just so he could turn me into what I was. A killer. Someone he could cut loose if things went badly.
They never had. I’ve had my scraps with the Feds, sure, but nothing life long - and I’d never been to jail. He couldn’t say the same.
I tucked my shirt in, slid a belt through the loops in my pants, slipped my feet into a 900 dollar pair of custom loafers and I was done. I reminded myself, as I made the final adjustments to my suit, slid my arms into the lined material, that she had left me. She had left me. She had left me.
And slowly, the anger began to churn in my stomach. The killer had awakened.
Posted in Abduction: Awakening by Daemon | 1 Comment »
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