Chapter 25 #2
I sighed, and stared at the ground, sick and tired of it all. My mind was a revolving door of dark thoughts—rooted in pain and misery.
This was a Christmas Day I would remember forever, for all of the wrong reasons.
“What must I do, to get Angela back? Please, you got what you wanted. I’m a killer now, like you. I’m the Xmas Day Butcher. Please…tell me what you want from me,” I pleaded desperately.
He pointed at my gun. “Drop it and kick it over to me. If you try anything, Angela will die.”
I immediately dropped it and kicked it over to him, I wasn’t taking any chances. He picked it up and stuffed it in his back pocket. He grabbed something hanging near him, I hadn’t noticed it before. It was a rope, tied to a beam up high.
“Stay here. I will bring her out. Don’t you dare move.”
I did as instructed, I didn’t want him to hurt Angela.
He walked away into darkness. It wasn’t long before he took out Angela, his hands placed firmly on her thin, bony shoulders.
She was gaunt, with heavy dark circles around her eyes and she looked malnourished, but alive. My poor love. She was alive.
I was relieved to see that she had all of her limbs in tact. “Angela, oh my god! Angela!” I wanted to rush towards her, to hug her, kiss her, to hold her so tight and never let go. But Lincoln held up his hatchet at me and shook his head violently.
“No! Stay right there.”
Angela glanced at me, fear in her eyes, and quickly averted her gaze. My poor wife—she had been held captive for 25 days. Lincoln had destroyed her, physically and mentally. I could never forgive him.
“Lincoln, please! Please! What now?! What must I do?! Please let her go! She has nothing to do with any of this!”
He ignored me and led my trembling wife to a broken pew—to stand on it. He grabbed the hanging rope, wrapped it around her neck and tightened it as I watched in shock, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of my terrified wife, death on her doorstep.
Lincoln swung the hatchet down into the church floorboards with a hard crack, splintering the wood. His bloodshot eyes found me.
“One choice, Lenny,” he said. “Kill me, for everything I’ve done to you…or save her.”
Angela was behind him, the rope cutting into her neck; her feet barely touching the top railing of the pew. She’s sobbing quietly—utterly exhausted. My heart slammed against my ribcage.
A twisted grin formed on Lincoln’s face. “Merry Christmas, brother. Choose wisely.”
Before I could breathe, he gave Angela a gentle push and ran away, disappearing into the darkness. Angela lost her balance, hanging in the air and choking on the rope. “No!” I shouted.
I sprinted for the hatchet, fingers slipping on the handle as I yanked it free from the floorboards.
I rushed to save Angela, hacking at the rope until it snapped.
When it did she collapsed onto me, coughing and wheezing—attempting to catch her breath.
I folded her into my arms, relief pouring through me.
She was safe. She was alive. “Oh, my love. How I’ve missed you. ”
When she gathered herself she shoved me away violently. I stared at her, stunned. I didn’t understand. Why was she acting like that? It was over. It was finally over.
“Angela?” I don’t understand. “It’s me. I found you. It’s over.”
She looked at me like I was a stranger. “I know what you did, Lenny. All those people…all the murders. Lincoln told me everything. You’re a killer, Lenny. Get the hell away from me!”
My stomach dropped.
No. This can’t be happening.
A chill ran down my spine as I feared the worst. “Angela, honey, I did it for you. To find you. To save you. You were gone…I had to do those things to save you.”
“No.” she shook her head, tears running down her face. “This is all your fault. Look what you’ve done to me. You’re just like him. You’re like your brother.”
The words ripped into my body, tearing my insides to shreds. I had lost my wife. Lincoln had truly taken everything from me. He got his revenge. He destroyed me.
She backed away from me and reached behind her waistband. She pulled out a gun my brother had given her.
“He told me to use it on you, if I felt I needed to,” she whispered. “He said…he said you’re not my husband anymore. You’re the Xmas Day Butcher.”
She raised the gun at me, hands trembling. I lifted my palms and stepped slowly towards her.
“Angela, no. Listen to me. He’s twisting everything. He’s poisoned your mind. You were abducted for 25 days. Don’t let him do this to us. Let me help you. I am your husband, and I love you.” A sob broke out of me. “I did so much for you. I killed for you, Angela. Please, let’s fix this.”
She flicked the safety off, her eyes becoming cold and distant.
I saw something close inside her—something final. Our love…torn, ruined, destroyed by Lincoln’s hands.
Angela sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “He kept me in a cold, dark place for 25 days…all because of you. He told me everything you’ve done. Nothing can ever be the same, ever again.”
She fired the gun.
I fully expected to die in that moment. I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate. If I didn’t have Angela’s love, what else was there?
But, I survived.
The shot whizzed past my ear, ricocheting off the wall. She had missed. She then dropped the gun, collapsing to her knees.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Lenny, I can’t live with this. I can’t live with any of it. Please…end it. End me.”
After everything, this is how it ended with Angela. After everything I had done—all the people I had murdered in her name…it was over. She was right. We could never be the same, ever again.
I was a killer.
After 25 days of hell, my life ended on Christmas Day.
“No.” I knelt beside her, touching her cheek lightly. “Never. I love you. I always will. I swear I’ll make him pay for what he did to us.”
I stood up.
If I’m a killer now…so be it. I am the Xmas Day Butcher, and my next victim is my brother—the Dollhouse Killer.
I grabbed the hatchet and the gun, but before I could charge out into the darkness and kill Lincoln—I collapsed to the ground.
An odd sensation erupted inside my head, as blood spilled over my eyes.
The last thing I saw was Angela standing over me, the gun in her trembling hands, as tears streamed down her face.
One day it'll end. One day.