The Real Bay Harbor Butcher

“You’re awake!” his voice was almost cheery as her bleary eyes blinked against the brightness of the room. She opened her mouth to speak but her throat felt dry.

Licking her lips she opened her eyes to look at him. He looked somewhat disheveled. “What’s going on?” she croaked as the room slowly came into focus. She was surrounded in plastic just like Gregory James was.

“Do you know these men?”

“Yes,” she croaked again as she tried to move to be held back by a sticky sensation of firmness. She looked down to see that she was covered in plastic just like Mr James and that made her head spin around in a circle groaning her eyes fluttering to the top of her head her mind whirling almost putting her out again.

“Oh, no, stay with me,” he said moving closer to her bringing her focus back into the present. So this is why she was sweating. She couldn’t figure out how she got here. When she got here…

“How did I get here? Were is Gregory?”

“Gregory?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Who is that?”

“The guy I was going to kill,” she said with a huff, closing her eyes against the annoyingly loud light. The darkness didn’t comfort her, the light bleeding through her eyelids.

“It’s good that I caught you before you did.”

“I knew what you were when I saw you at the police station. You’re just like all of them,” she said rolling her head to the images hung up for her viewing pleasure.

“I’m nothing like them.”

“You are like them. Like me,” she smirked. “Wolf in sheeps clothing.”

“I’m nothing like you. Killing innocent people,” he yelled turning around and running a hand over his hair.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh. “You think they are innocent?” she asked him her grin spreading across her lips. “Jamie Deak, woman rapist. Preferred type 15-20 years of age, vulnerable and red headed. Stalks his victims for 1 month before he abducts them. Wears masks so they can recognize them and bathes them before he drops them off in a random park to find their way home,” she nodded to another picture. “Julio Cortez, likes to beat his women and prefers that they fight. Doesn’t stalk them has a few women that he absuses regularly that can’t get away from him for fear of their family.”

Elizabeth looked to Dexter before she continued, “Darren Lumley, takes advantage of his college students and promises them good grades for sex or failure for denial. Prefers the mousy quiet ones to the loud and confident ones. Erik Cross, Voyeur and blackmailer. When the blackmail isn’t enough he abducts women and rapes them with inanimate objects taping it. Dexter Morgan, abducts and kills. Preferences… unknown. The difference is they don’t kill people but they may as well have. They destroy lives which is the same thing.”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Deny it all you want. Isn’t this your ritual?”

Dexter finally nodded. “I am nothing like them. I have control over the dark passenger.”

“Really?” she asked genuinely intrigued. “Then why is he loose?” why was she so calm in the face of her killer? Whatever got her here, whatever that journey in her mind was it prepared her for this and she knew what was coming. Why be afraid of it?

She wanted it.

“This is control. I focus it…”

“Keep telling yourself that cupcake,” she interrupted him. “Because when they find out what you are, what control you have they’ll be just as disgusted of you as they are of them,” she nodded to the pictures, “or me.”

“I’m different.”

“We all are. We’re all special snowflake killers,” he shoved a piece of cotton in her mouth.

“Shut up,” he growled at her. She closed her eyes as the scalpel came to her cheek the thin blade biting at her skin a trail of blood dripping down the side of her cheek. “Thank you,” she mumbled but it was more like a “mnnn ouuu” sound with the piece of cotton in her mouth.

Elizabeth looked up to him a smile on her face as he lifted the knife.

What a beautiful ritual…

The knife came straight down into her sternum, she grunted at the sensation, a tear rolling down the side of her face in happiness.

She was free now.
Free from the anger.
Free from the pain.
Free from the urge.
Free from the herself.
Free from the world.

They say as you die that you see your life flash before your eyes. All she saw was how she got there. It was just before the unfamiliar shoe. It was a struggle with him. He had kneed her painfully in her side that’s where the throbbing and sharp pains had come from. Finally he got her pinned to the ground and shoved a needle in her neck and she fell asleep.

Like now… the image of Dexter atop of her faded to the Dexter shuddering in delight in front of her before it faded to darkness.

The eternal silent dark.

About Morrigan

I'm a divorced mother of two trying to find a knack in life. I am unsure if I've found it yet but I'm working on it. It is one of those things that you have to take time to find and unfortunately I'm impatient.
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