24. Aster
TWENTY-FOUR
ASTER
W hat the actual fuck? I grip the steering wheel, reaching over and turning on the radio just for something to do with my hands. “The Drug In Me Is You” by Falling In Reverse comes on. Well isn’t that just the perfect song.
She was fourteen when she started painting my kills which means I was eighteen. We have been connected without even knowing. Our meeting was fate. I didn’t kill her because we were always meant to get to this point.
Our love is kismet.
I reach over and hold her hand in mine. She jumps, glancing at me instead of staring out the window, and gives me a small smile. I can tell she’s nervous. I didn’t say one word after seeing her paintings. How was I supposed to react to her dreaming about me and my lambs? I couldn’t very well just say ‘oh, hey, you’re dreaming and painting about me, I’m the man killing those girls.’ I don’t think that would go over very well. Then again my little vixen may surprise me like she always does.
She has to see. She painted my workspace. Once I show her the shed… I’m hoping things will click into place. She’s been dreaming of the same place for fourteen years, she’s sure to recognize it.
She said she loves when she has those dreams, so she should react well, right?
We pull onto the road to my house, driving past it without slowing down.
Serena looks at me, eyes drawn together. “Where are we going?”
I squeeze her hand in mine. “Do you trust me?”
She nods. “With my life.”
I smile at her, pulling up to the shed and throwing her car into park. I turn over and look at her. My fingers tapping the steering wheel, trying to calm the anxious feeling down. “I didn’t know how to respond when I saw your paintings.” She looks down and takes her hand from mine. I turn her head back, making her look me in the eye, taking both hands this time. “I didn’t know what to say, but I told you it was my turn to share a secret. I hope this secret is answer enough.”
“I don’t understand? You don't say anything, then take me to a tiny house I didn’t even know was on your property. You either think I’m crazy or not, why can’t you just say something?!” She yells, throwing her hands in the air at the end, breathing hard.
Glaring at me in anger, making her blue eyes swirl darker, I sigh and get out of the car. Walking over to her side I open the door, holding my hand in front of Serena for her to grab, eyes pleading for her to understand. To trust me.
She crosses her arms, and turns her head away from me. “Serena, if you don’t get your ass out of the car right now, I will throw you over my shoulder and spank your ass like the child you’re behaving like.”
Her head whips back to face me. “That’s rich coming from the grown man who acted like a child at the restaurant.”
Exasperated, I push my hair back. “I already apologized for that. If you want to know how I feel about your paintings and your dreams, you will take my hand and come. With. Me.”
She huffs, grabs my hand, but bows her head. “Fine, but only because I want to know your big secret since I told you mine.”
“Thank you.” I lead her to the front, she’s looking around the property at everything, taking in her surroundings. Pulling up the metal door, I walk us in and flip on the light. As soon as the bulbs shine on, she winces, squinting her eyes against the bright lights.
Letting go of my hand, she walks around looking everywhere, taking in everything. She walks over to the table in the middle and runs her hand along it. Turning around she starts opening the drawers seeing all the tools. I stand with my back against the wall, arms crossed watching her take in everything.
Recognition hasn’t lit her features like they did mine. Will I have to explain to her what this place is, or will looking around some more finally help her open her eyes?
She turns to look at me, motioning around my domain. “You took me to your work shed? I’m assuming this is where you make the props for the haunted house. What does this place have to do with my dreams?”
“Look again, really look, Serena.”
She pauses, looking around again, at the wall of tools, at the incinerator, then she looks at me and down at the table again. Her head tilts, and she steps back, her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide and whispers, “You’re the faceless man?”
I smirk, “You can call me The Morbid Monet.”
She stands frozen in time, her eyes shift to the door, and she slowly backs into the wall of tools. I smirk, a knowing smile at what she is planning lifting my lips. My little vixen thinks she’s clever. “You’re Salem's most notorious serial killer, killing thirty-two women. All who are curvy and have dark hair.”
“The one and the same, and as the Morbid Monet.”
Her arms are behind her back. “You haven’t always been The Morbid Monet.”
I shake my head, inching closer. “No.”
Her breathing starts to pick up as she blindly grabs a hammer. “The paintings I started when I was fourteen up to the time The Morbid Monet was named, was that you too?
Another step closer. “Yes. It took me many years, and a couple… mistakes to become him.”
“Are you going to kill me?” she breathes, as she rips the weapon off the wall, swinging it at me.
I grab the hammer and she pinches her eyes closed, backing further into the tool table. My hand caresses her cheek. “My little vixen, I could never hurt you. I wanted to show you my sanctuary. I wanted to show you we are connected.” I drop my hand. “Look at me, Serena.” She shakes her head, refusing to look at me. “Please?” I beg, my hands grabbing hers. She slowly opens her eyes, tears forming and clinging to her lashes. “You said you loved your dreams, you said they were beautiful.”
Her hands shake and tears cascade down her cheeks. “That's when I thought they weren’t real, that they were only dreams!”
I kiss the tear falling down her face, tasting the salty bitterness. “Can’t you see you’re like me? You’ve been dreaming about me long before we ever met. We were always supposed to meet at that bar. You and me are one in the same.”
“I don’t kill innocent people, Aster,”
How can she react like this? I don’t understand. She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to understand. We are connected. Why doesn’t she see that? Anger bubbles up, but I shove it back down knowing I dropped a major bomb, and I need to be patient.
She whispers, “Was I going to be another one of your victims?” I look away, unable to look her in the eyes and tell her the truth. Anger rises in her voice, knowing my answer without me voicing it. “Is that why you called me little lamb at first?!” She shoves me, pushing me back into the table. “Answer me!”
“Yes!” I yell, regretting it the moment it leaves my lips. She stumbles back, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t understand, my little vixen. At first, yes, you were my little lamb, destined to lay on my table.” I motion behind me, a nearly indiscernible tremble in my fingers. That's never happened before. “But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know why at first, then I started breaking all my rules for you!” I seethe pointing at her.
She jumps, startled by my voice echoing around the room. “Rules?” she whispers.
I don’t want to scare her, but I need to make her understand. I need her to see I won’t hurt her. I need my little vixen back. I can tell by the way she's hugging herself she is terrified, and that is not what I wanted.
I pace back and forth, pushing my hair back. “Yes. Rules, all of them.” I start counting on my fingers. “One: killing a man, I’ve never killed a man before, but after I met you I killed every single one that looked at you wrong.”
She lowers her trembling, her eyes still guarded. “What are you talking about? What men did you kill?”
“Only two, that bartender and Tyler.”
She throws her hands in the air, anger making her body shake. “The Tyler that went missing? The one who the fucking police questioned us about?!”
Anger I can handle. I shrug my shoulders. “One and the same.”
It’s my vixen's turn to pace.
She stops once I start talking again. “When I saw you with another man, I was so enraged, I needed to kill your date. When I saw him trying to kiss you, I decided my lips would be the only ones to touch any part of your body. Something inside me snapped, and I needed to have you. So I broke the second rule: fucking my victims.”
“Wow, I should feel so special I was the only victim you ever fucked. Fuck you, Aster!” She flips me off, anger rolling off her in waves.
This went a lot better in my head.
“Can I continue?” I ask, trying to be patient.
“Can you continue telling me why you didn’t kill me? Sure, why the fuck not.” She waves her hand in front of her, her body tense. She went from scared little lamb, to pissed off vixen fast. Her anger and spark to stand up to a serial killer has me smirking.
“Rule three: bring you back to my house, but by then I knew I was never going to kill you.” I walk closer to her, attempting to grab her hands. “By then I had already fallen for you, and when I saw the fox necklace and you told me when you bought it… I realized that you knew what took me too long to realize.”
“Do you know why I stab my lambs in the heart?”
She shakes her head. “No, but the media spectated it was your signature along with the rose.”
I look around the room, chuckling to myself. “The media and cops got it wrong. So wrong. They think I’m a surgeon or artist, not some entrepreneur.”
“Why do you do it then? What is the real meaning behind everything?”
I stare up at the ceiling, glancing back down to meet her curious eyes. “I stab them in the heart as a representation for the heart I don’t have. The rose is the last gift they were given before the grim reaper came and took them.”
She uncrosses her arms and looks at me, and when I go to grab her hand she lets me. “This heart,” I say, jabbing at my chest, “has never beaten for anyone. I didn’t know I was even capable of feeling until I met you.” Her lips start to tremble, “You awakened things in me I thought died the night my parents were taken. A heart that never beat started pounding for you, little by little, and-”
“Everything was a lie!” she cries.
Grabbing her chin, I force her eyes to meet mine. “I may have been lying to you, but I was never pretending. Every minute, every fucking second spent with you, was real. It took me longer to figure out because I’m fucked up, but I finally did. I didn’t understand the feelings you’ve awakened in me, but I finally do. I love you, Serena.” I lean down to give her a soft kiss on her forehead.
Tears stream down her face, and she leans into me, her head resting against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, unable to believe I finally told her I loved her, I don’t expect her to say it back. We have time for her to acknowledge the depth of her own feelings.
I love Serena.
She starts to sniffle, and I rub her back. She presses her forehead into my chest before glancing up at me. “What are we going to do about Tyler? The police are still looking for him.”
I kissed the top of her head, resting my cheek against her hair. “I already took care of it, they won’t find his body, and they’ll never know it was me.”
“What did you do with him?”
I turn us towards the incinerator and her mouth drops open, laughing. “I’m damn good at what I do, my little vixen, I haven’t gotten caught for a reason.”
She just shakes her head and nuzzles into my chest.
Now that she knows who I really am, and has accepted it, I need to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone. She keeps saying she never told Jessica her secret, but who is Jessica? She said she was with her the night we met, but when she introduced me to her, no one was behind her. I went along with it, nodding my head and played it off because I thought she was too drunk and her friend already left. Maybe she thought the group of girls behind her was her friend? I don't know, but I need to find out and make sure my secret won’t be shared.
“You can’t tell anyone, not even Jessica.”
She looks at me with the most innocent eyes, her gaze telling me my secret is safe. “I won’t, plus, you met her, remember? She would never guess you’re the Morbid Monet.”
I brush my fingers down her cheeks, concern written all over my face. “Serena, I never met Jessica.”
She slaps my chest, rolling her eyes, stepping back from me. “Yes, you did, silly, at the bar where we first met. She was sitting behind me, I even introduced you. You didn’t say anything, just looked back and forth between us and ignored her, which I thought was weird because she is gorgeous and guys usually drop dead at her feet.”
I grab her hands to stop her rambling. “Serena, no one was with you.”
She tilts her head and looks at me. “What?”
“You were alone. There was a group of girls behind you, but no one else. I even tried to find her online, but there was no trace of her.”
She backs away shaking her head. “No, no that’s not true. She was there! I swear she was. Wait… why were you looking her up?”
“She was getting in the way, I needed her gone, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
She looks at me with confusion and fear, “But, I don’t understand.”
Her eyes pinch closed, and she falls to the floor, screaming in pain, crying uncontrollably. Panicked, I rush to her side, holding her in my arms and rocking her back and forth. “What’s wrong, Serena? Talk to me.”
One second she was fine, the next she’s in pain . It’s like my question caused her agony. Fuck, what do I do? What can I do? For once in my life, I’m scared, the woman I love is in pain, and there is nothing I can do to help her.
“Aster…” she whispers, gripping my shirt.
I rub her head, her shaking trapping the air in my lungs. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
She’s crying into my chest, mumbling, “I did it, I did it.”
“Did what?” I ask.
She looks up, tears streaming down her face. “I killed her.”
I stop rubbing her back, frozen. “Killed who?”
“Jessica.” She whispers, slumping against me crying in my chest.
Holy fuck… she really is just like me. Jessica was real, and she killed her. She must have had a psychotic break and made her up in her mind to deal with what she did. Once she calms down, we will figure out what happened. Together. She isn’t alone, and I need to make sure she knows that.
She rocks back and forth in my arms repeating “I killed her” over and over and over again. We sit like that for what seems like hours and she eventually cries herself asleep. I lay us down, cradling her in my arms and falling asleep with her. When I wake up Serena is gone.