The Skin - Prelude
The house was quiet as he prowled the deck behind it. He could not see any lights on inside as he peered through the sliding glass door. It was good, they were sure to be all asleep now. He had watched the last one go up to bed more than an hour ago from the brush behind the house.
The screen door came off with a small “thunk”, and he set it aside. The sliding glass door would be just as easy for him, it only had a latching lock. He pressed his weight against it and simply pushed until the latch gave way. This made a little more noise, but he did not think it would rouse any one in the house. It was the sound of breaking glass and objects landing soundly on the floor that would awaken the residents of a household like this. He knew this now, after many years attempting entry into homes that were not his. He knew his victims well enough now to predict the way they would act to sounds in the night.
There were no pets to worry about bothering him as he began to make his way through the living room to the stairway. His large form was silhouetted by the glow of the lit fish tank in the wall as he quietly made his way. The thin carpet only covered this room, so he was especially careful as he began to walk past his prey’s room. He had to pass it for now, it’s parents had to be dealt with before he began the test. He could not, and did not want to be interrupted until the test was finished.
He savored what he would do to the parents as he slowly climbed the stairway to the second floor. At least they allowed themselves the luxury of nice, thick, sound-deadening carpet on the second floor. It made it so much easier to make his way into their room. He could hear the man snoring softly on the other side of their door, calling him to their bedside.
He slipped smoothly into their room, opening and closing their door with one smooth motion. He was much more lithe than one would guess from his bulk, being over six feet tall and pushing 275 pounds, not all of it muscle. He new he looked quite strange with his gut straining at the assortment of black and brown leather that he was wrapped in. His wild eyes staring out through a hard leather mask with an evil leering grin carved into it. There would be no mistaking his intentions though, as he pulled a long, slightly curved blade from a sheath at his chest.
He moved to the wife’s side of the bed. She was snoring too, both of them sound asleep. As he crouched over her he raised the blade over her husband’s neck and started to get excited. The loose straps of his costume started to move with a will of their own, defying gravity. His form began to grow indistinct in the half-light of the moon shining through the bedroom window. Parts of him other than his hand started to reach them selves toward his victims.
He put his powerful hand over the woman’s mouth first, startling her into wakefulness. As she began to realize what was happening to her, she began to struggle. The tendrils of leather reaching at her face from his leering form made her strike out at her husband, waking him. But as he opened his eyes the killer struck him with a slashing blow to the neck.
The spray of blood splashed on the wall, and the man’s screams of pain came out as a gurgle as he put his hands over the wound. The killer changed the direction of the blade in his hand so that it was now a stabbing weapon and let hover over the man’s face. Once he was sure he had the man’s attention, the killer’s form seemed to still for a moment, and the blade was plunged deep into his chest. The killer threw back his head in exultation as the man ceased to struggle, but no sound escaped the leering mask.
The woman continued to strain at the weight that the killer had pressed against her to keep her from escaping. But he could hear her suffering quietly seep through his gloved hand as she mourned her dead husband. It was with more distinct shape that he turned his attention to her, the costume he wore now apparently sated.
He laid the blade down next to her head and pulled a loose strap of leather from himself. With that he tied her hands to the top of the headboard, all the while staring at her with those wild eyes. But something changed, and he struck her hard to the side of the head as he turned his own face away.
“No, I don’t want that! That’s want you want!” It was muffled voice coming from the man who was on top of her. The woman was confused and slightly dazed, but she had him start to argue with someone.
“ Yess, I crave it, the sensations.” The reply came from nowhere and everywhere, it was almost as if someone had whispered into both her ears. It scared her, but the man on top of her had taken his hand from her mouth.
She started to scream for help but the man was incredibly fast. She was silenced as the blade pushed it’s way into her brain by way of the roof of her mouth. Luckily for her she stopped remembering anything at that point, because the killer was very angry that she had even made that noise.
“Quickly you fool, the prey is awake!” Stopped him from completely dismembering the body of the woman. He quickly got up and wiped the blade on the mattress. It was strange though that someone who spilled so much blood on the floor did not leave bloody footprints as he left the room.
He moved down the stairs at almost a run, not caring how much noise he made now that the couple was dead. He jumped over the last four stairs and ran at the wide door that said “Keep Out”. It was the type of sign you could buy at any hardware store, and it split in two with the door as the killer hit it at full speed.
The boy that was desperately trying to get himself into his wheel chair was picked up easily by the killer and thrown back onto his bed. The wheelchair was then tossed across the room with such force as to break the closet door it collided with.
“No, please”. After regaining his breath, the boy, a teen with what appeared to be cerebral palsy, began to beg for his life. The killer had not put away his blade and it still hung menacingly above the boy.
“No, this is not for you.” The killer said matter-of-factly as the blade was sheathed. He then put his large hand over the boy’s mouth to quiet him, and continued. “ I just have a little test for you.”
The boy watched as the killer untied the straps holding on his mask and took it off. The round pale face beneath it was sweating and smiling in a gentle manner. He was quite confused as the killer started to put the mask over his own face. But it was not the killer’s mask anymore. The leering smile was gone, replaced with a thin unemotional slit of a mouth.
The boy attempted to struggle but the killer was much too strong for him. And with the mask finally on, he found that he had lost control of his body. He was afraid, but for some reason he was completely relaxed. It almost felt as if someone were running their hands all over his body, as if they were looking for something. But it wasn’t the killer, he was just sitting on the bedside staring quietly into space.
“No”.
He heard the voice, and wondered what the question was. That was, until the killer’s hands were touching the sides of his head. There was sharp jerk as the killer twisted his head but the boy didn’t notice the pain. His thoughts were on the strange voice that continued to speak even as he was fading into death.
“ Hopefully the next one. I grow tired of your sensations Clarence”.
The killer said nothing, he just put the mask back on and left the way he had come.
More soon I hope...