The Paul Series pt. 1

So if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’d be familiar with Turner’s “Jacob” series. If you aren’t aquainted with Jacob, take a look back at his journey to understand him a little better. I created a sister series tied to Turner’s “Jacob” series, called the “Paul” series. Paul is the cop assigned to surveiling Jacob after a string of disappearances.

 

I’ve been watching this creep for hours. He’s been watching her for hours. She’s been watching television for hours.
I glance down at the file in my lap, brushing powdered sugar off the photo of the creep. Name’s Jacob something, too long to pronounce. His friend, the girl in the house, was the victim of a sexual assault a while ago. The prime suspect in that case disappeared before he could be arrested. I flip through a couple of pages to the police report. Jacob was questioned in connection to the disappearance, but nothing concrete come from it. What a waste of time.
Assigning me to this case was the chief’s idea. Something to get me away from the desk, 9-5 gig. A little surveillance on a suspected murderer was just the thing. If I had to hear one more speech about the merit of not just calling myself a cop, but truly becoming cop, I was gunna shove my box of Dunkin’ Donuts down his throat. I said yes to get him to shut up. I seriously doubt this kid could cut up a body and hide the evidence. More likely he’s going through one of those goth-depression phases. My son went through one of those when he was sixteen. After two months of crucifixes and eyeliner, he was done.
I toss Jacob’s file onto the passenger seat and leaf through the second file. It’s full of disappearances within the last few months. A Mr. Harris, along with three other guys have vanished. The one commonality between the disappearances was each guy had been convicted of sexual assault or had allegations of sexual assault. So someone seems to be targeting these guys, but no bodies have turned up as of yet. For all I know, they all skipped town and hit up a toddler’s pageant. Bunch of perverts.
Grumbling, I pull my coffee from the cup holder and swallow it back. I could be watching the game right now, drinking a nice cold brew instead of ice cold coffee. Glancing at my watch I see that it’s 11:43pm. I’ve been sitting here since 8pm.
I snatch the radio from the console and click it on. “This is officer Pemberton on the Jacob what-his-face stakeout.”
“Hey, Paul. Catch that little shit jerking off to his girl yet?”
I chuckle. Kevin gets it. Chief can shove this assignment up his ass. “If I do, you’ll be the first to know, Kev. I’m heading home now.”
“Take ‘er easy.”
“Same to you.”
I put the radio down and glance over to the creep one more time. He’s still standing in the same spot, across the street from the girl’s house, staring in her front window. He wears a black hoodie, hood pulled up over his head, and blends into the shadows just outside a nearby street lamp. My best guess is he’s some love sick guy that got rejected and just can’t let go. Murderer? No. Pathetic? Yes.
I start the car and pull the seatbelt over my stomach. The belt doesn’t go the whole way and I’ve got to yank it a few times for it to buckle completely. Without another look at the creep, I make a U-turn and head home. With luck, I’ll be able to catch the last quarter of the game.
 
 
 -Collins

Jacob at work

Newest addition in my Jacob works!

-Turner

Unfortunately for me, my whole life wasn’t play. I had to work.
Today was one of those nights, my fingers ached from typing, my eyes were starting to get blurry as I stared at the bright computer screen in the pitch black of my office.
The numbers ran across the screen, changing, rearranging, trying to keep me out. Not that they could. I wasn’t the most sought after hacker for nothing. Math was my thing, or so they said in school. Numbers, formulas, algorithims, they just came to me. It was child’s play really. I was accepted and awarded scholarships to any school I had wanted to go to. I never went.
My angel had always wanted to go to college, she wanted to be a veternarian. But after that sadistic bastard stole her light…she never mentioned it again. I was sure to remind him of that the day I stuck my blades into him and ripped his nasty appendage straight off his body.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts of her that plauge me seemingly every minute of every day. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her, too holed up in my office trying to finish my latest assignments to check on her. But after tonight? I would be there.
Watching.
Waiting.
I pull up the minimized screen on my computer, taking a much needed break from work.
There she is…sitting, reading her book in peace. A steaming cup of what I can only guess is lavender tea, her favorite. She smiles as she gets to a part she enjoys, her index finger flipping the page. She readjusts her large square framed glasses on her nose. I still remember the day she got those and she told me she felt like a dork. I told her no one would make fun of her and that I would make sure of it.
I kept my promise, I always kept my promises to her.
Pleased that she seems to be content I minimize the screen again.
Tomorrow. I glance at the clock. 11:08 PM, just a few more hours and I’ll be seeing her in person again.
My heart rate spikes and my palms sweat at the thought of it.
It can’t come soon enough

Jacob is on the move.

 

Newest addition to Jacob and his journey to his angel.

-Turner

 

Some people exercise in gyms, weights, running. Swimming pools. Useless DVD workouts. Me? I exercise in the forest, with my blades. I’ve been exercising a lot lately.
Ever since my angel sent me away.
I won’t be away for long, I just decided to give her some time. I know she loves me, oh how I know. I know what her sweet, pink lips taste like. What her silk hair feels like as it runs through my fingers. I’m not giving that up. She’s mine, she always will be. I will hide the monster, just for her. Only for her.
It’s these thoughts that race through my mind as I slaughter the man beneath me. His blood splattering against my boots.
“Please…” It’s gurgled as his mouth fills with bile and blood.
“Please, please…they all beg! Please, don’t kill me! I won’t do it again, I swear!” I mock and spit in his face, leaving my blade jammed into his prone body.
His eyes plead with me. They won’t find any sympathy from me. It’s people like him that made her the way she is now, that stole the light from her eyes. Now I’ll steal theirs and leave them in darkness.
When I’m done with the bastard pedophile, I dump his body into the swamp that lays within the woods. Leaving him to decompose with all the others.
I find my way back to my apartment, dark and cold. The way I like it. I toss my boots in the sink to clean later and strip my clothes off, pouring myself into a scalding hot shower. Letting it wash the darkness away, just for a few hours.
Once I’m done, I make it to her house. She’s in the living room, her blinds closed, but still allowing a little leeway. It’s like she wants me to watch.
I finally release the breath I’d been holding for the last few days.
There she is.

 

 

 

 

Another piece to Jacob.

Wow, it has been awhile since I’ve written anything with this character. He went a little dormant for awhile, but he is back with a vengeance and a plan. Here is the newest installment in Jacob’s story. Be warned. Dark.

 

I had it all planned out.
I had gotten the itch out of my system, effectively scratching it out. Two more crooks, perverts, met their maker. I couldn’t have been more pleased. Things were going accordingly.
Now it was time for me to get her, life without her was becoming…uncomfortable.
I hadn’t thought about it much, but I really hadn’t been apart from her for longer than a few days in almost a decade. I was a solitary creature by nature, but…apparently I had formed some sort of attachment to her.
Not that I could be blamed of course. I may be a monster, but I am still man. A man with urges, needs and desires. She filled every single one of them. Or she would. Once I had her back.
I’d been known to make a wrong choice a time or two, sending her away was one of them.
I watched her in her second story window, her long blonde hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head. Her thin white camisole not covering nearly enough, short pink shorts revealing just the slightest curve of her ass. It was mouth watering.
I pulled my hood down farther, covering my eyes completely as I pulled my cell phone out and dialed her number for the first time in weeks. I saw her room light up with the bluish glow of her phone before she brought it to her ear.
“Jacob?” She whispered. God I hadn’t heard her voice in so long, it was like angels singing. Poetic, I know. But the truth can’t be changed.
“Come downstairs.” And with that I hang up, shoving the phone back into my pocket and making my way to her front door, leaning against the white pillar in the entryway. It only takes a few moments before the door flies open and her eyes widen as they take me in.
I do the same.
She’s flawless.
“What are you…” She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”
I take a step towards her, unable to help myself. My hand moves of their own accord and my finger tips feather across the smooth skin of her neck, feeling her pulse there nearly makes me lose my mind.
She steps away, crossing her arms over her chest. Shutting me out. She’s never shut me out before.
“Seriously…after what happened the last time I saw you, I just…you can’t be here.”
“I can and I will.” I say.
A tear starts to track its way down her cheek. I quickly snatch it with my thumb and put it in my life, tasting the salty sadness on my tongue.
Her head starts to shake, I don’t even think she notices she is doing it. “Go…Jacob. Just go.” A sob rips from her as she pulls away completely and shuts herself inside her house. I hear the lock click.
I stare at the door, willing her to come back. She doesn’t.
I’m not a fool, so I don’t stick around.
I pull out my phone and send her a text.
“This isn’t over, Angel.”

-Turner

Another tale of a dark stranger.

Here is a new piece on my dark, confused character, Jacob. Enjoy.

I hadn’t seen her in weeks. My heart was aching for her just as it was after only a few days, but this was much, much worse. Which was a weird thing for me because it had never done that for anyone before her. She changed everything, the very make up of who I was was evolving in my love for her. Love. Oh, is this what love was? If it was, cut my heart out and feed it to the dogs. This was not an emotion for someone as void as me. Someone as dark, twisted and seedy.
My food was tasting bland. My thoughts were always on her. Even the sight of blood wasn’t cutting it.
I hadn’t killed in over three weeks.
Something had to give, was I losing my touch?
Did someone really have this much control over me?
This wasn’t going to work.
I had to find her, bring her back to me. Make promises I wasn’t sure if I could keep. Was she just as lost and confused as I was? Was this what it meant to care for another? To be human?
Oh the questions, the questions.
They stirred in my head.A continuous loop. A drip, drip, drip. Like a leaky faucet. Usually, I would take a damn sledge hammer to it. Smash the wretched thing til it couldn’t drive me insane anymore. Call someone to have it replaced. But this was my brain we’re talking about here.
My palms were sweaty as I watched her angelic form cross the street.
Of course I knew where she was, I always knew where she was.
Just a few feet separated us. I wanted to grab her. Hold her captive, keep her safe, keep me sane.
Her face broke into a brilliant smile as she embraced another girl whom I knew was her best friend, apart from me, of course.
I pulled the strings of my black hoodie tighter, my eyes only leaving her form as she headed into the restaurant.
Only a few more days, a few more kills.
I’d be back for her.
Not even my dark passenger would come between us.

-Turner

my poem titled “Homes & Houses”

Home

My home

House

My house

A house isn’t a home

But a home can be a house

Feel safe

Feel scared

Like standing on the street in the dark alone

Loud like a train station

Quiet like a library

So many books strewn around

Buried in words

Words screamed in faces

Words whispered behind backs

Ignored

Angry

Loved

Accepted

A coliseum of conflicting opinions

A sing song around a camp fire

Works of art on the walls

Some painted with brushes

Others with fists

Loner in a crowded place

Crowded in your own room

In a room that isn’t really yours

See yourself in the mirror

In the eyes of your family

In your reflection in the window

Looking out at out people’s houses

Other people’s homes

Do they live in homes or houses?

-Collins

A dark story, part four.

If you saw me on the street, you wouldn’t guess at my illness. Well, some consider it an illness. I consider it an awakening. Brought to me by the lies and failures of lesser beings.
Perverts.
Rapists.
Liars.
Your next door neighbor.
Luckily for me, I am a very good actor. No one has ever suspected my dark passenger, my inner demon. My best friend.
You would walk by me on the street, you might glance at me if you were a young girl. I know they enjoy my looks. But otherwise, you would never know.
I walk among you. I order coffee from your cafe. I say thank you when you hold the door open for me at the grocery store. I bring my car in for tune ups at your shop.
But at night, after I’ve run my errands. After I get off work at my mundane job, I take to the streets. To plots. To schemes. Which all end up in the same place. In the woods. The mossy smell surrounding me. My blade sliding into flesh.
No. You would never guess at my illness.
But I can guess at yours.
I live for your illness.

-Turner

A Continuation of a short

So, I’m not sure if you guys remember but a while back I posted something I wrote, about a young man named Jacob who craved blood. Yeah, that messed up guy. Anyways…as much as that was just a short, something I was prompted for…I decided to write another installment in his story. So here it is. Warning…this one is a little dark. Okay, a lot. Enjoy!

It had been mere days since I’d last seen her,my chest ached to be near her.
But not more then it ached for blood.
Blood that I was currently getting from the man underneath my blade.
“Please…have mercy?” A gurgled cry came out of his throat. I laughed at him. Mercy? He wanted mercy? I brought my bowie knife up again and brought it down, right into the fleshy material of his thigh. Rapists didn’t deserve mercy. I was there to extract justice. For all those little girls who didn’t stand a chance, who’s innocence was stolen. Just like her. I grit my teeth at the memory of her beautiful features, twisted by her nightmares, of him stalking her in her dreams.
“Ahhhhhh!” A desperate scream came from him. Now, if I was in the city I would be have been worried about someone hearing him. But we weren’t in the city, we were deep in the woods, the smell of wet moss surrounding us. The darkness hiding us, not even the light from the moon could penetrate the canopy above us.
I pushed the black hood I had concealing my face off my head, it fell against my shoulders. I could feel the blood on my hand transferring to my skin. I relished in the feeling.
“Tell me, Mr. Harris…was it worth taking those little girls? Breaking them? Raping their little bodies?” I spit. I don’t take my eyes off his, which were glossy with crocodile tears.
“I..I didn..”
“DO NOT LIE TO ME, Mr. Harris.”
“I…I’m sick! The doctors…they say I’m sick!” Blood rushed from his lips as my knife once again struck something vital.
I chuckled. “That’s right. You’re sick. And sick perverts aren’t welcome here.”
And with that…I took the sick bastards life. A feeling inside of me swells…pride. I wish she could see what I had done for her.

-Turner

A little something

The tear that leaks from my eye feels like a lie. Am I crying because I care? Or is that just what is deemed socially acceptable in this situation? Can psychopaths feel? I’ve been told my whole life that this wasn’t possible. That I lacked the ability to love, to empathize. So why is it now that my so called emotions are bleeding into a physical response? My heart clenches in my chest. I don’t seem to have any control over my reactions.

She shivers, her lip quivering. I want so bad to reach out and touch that lip with my finger, to pull it away from her teeth as they dig into her plump, rosy flesh. But I don’t. Sexual attraction is one thing I do feel, but it doesn’t feel right in this moment. Her shoulders are hunched, spasming with her sobs.

“Please, Jacob, don’t leave me. Don’t do this. I know we can fight this, together. I love you.” She nearly shrieks. Her bloodshot eyes try to seek mine out, but I deny them. The familiar desire starts building within me, hearing her cries and wails. Watching her become the vulnerable and weak version of herself. So different from the woman I met as a child. When my impulses were so fragile, undetermined. But I’m a man now, and I know what I want.

As much as I want to love her, to make her mine…I’d rather kill her. And that’s why we’ll never work. I have to leave now before I drain her of her life force and take it within myself.

“It’s over.” I love you, I think. The only time I’ve ever had that thought.

I walk away, wiping the one and only tear I’ve ever shed. I pull my hood over my head, hiding the human part of myself and embracing the monster. It’s time to hunt, before I turn the woman I love into my prey.

-Turner