Dave Zeltserman - Bad Thoughts

It took a long while before he stopped laughing. Before he closed his eyes again.

Of course, the man wasn’t Herbert Winters. Winters was long dead, his corpse cremated twenty years earlier. But while the man may not have been Herbert Winters, he knew what had happened in that house that day. He knew because Herbert Winters wasn’t alone.

Charlie Winters knew early on he had a special bond with his cousin, Herbert. They were born within a month of each other and physically they looked more like brothers than cousins; both around the same size and skin coloring, both damned with the same pale, almost albino eyes, both inheriting the same deformed chin from their fathers. Charlie knew they had far more than their physical similarities in common. Even as young as age six, Charlie knew they shared a uniquely perverse outlook on life. At that age it wouldn’t have been something he’d have been able to put in words, but it was still something he knew. That deep in the core of their hearts they were the same.

Over the years they became inseparable as they fleshed out the basic truths that were driving them. Of course, their lessons were learned in secret, first with small animals and then later progressing to neighborhood dogs and cats. They were quiet about it and careful, and it wasn’t until the Chilton girl disappeared that they found out they hadn’t been nearly quiet and careful enough. It was then that they realized there had been a growing groundswell of suspicion towards them and the Chilton girl brought it all out into the open-the dirty, hateful glances, the inquiries, and outright accusations. They were all baseless, of course. There wasn’t a shred of evidence linking them to the girl’s disappearance or her mutilated body when it was finally discovered, so they feigned innocence and the townsfolk ended up having to accept it; even the County Sheriff who would’ve beaten the truth out of them if their parents hadn’t been able to afford the best lawyers in North Carolina.

It was an eye-opening experience for them, though, and the lesson they learned from it was invaluable. No matter how careful they thought they were, it wasn’t careful enough. And just as important, they’d better not stay in any one spot for too long. After all, a skunk can only hide its stripe for so long. Eventually, you end up smelling it out.

In any case, a drifter from Texas murdered a young girl outside of Durham six months later and over time it became accepted that this same drifter must’ve also done in poor Marjorie Chilton. Not right away, because it’s hard to dispute the obvious, especially when it’s staring you straight in the face everyday with pale albino eyes, but over time. Eventually, their own parents stopped giving them those funny looks when their backs were sort of turned. Eventually.

So Charlie and Herbert bided their time. It killed them inside, but they knew they had no choice. That as much as they had thought otherwise, they had fooled no one. So they waited and made plans and studied, all the while fighting against the desires that were burning fervently within them.

When they were eighteen they left Mornsville together. They bought a Chevy Nova (they learned their lesson about being careful, and just as important, being inconspicuous). And they went off into the world to fulfill their dreams and aspirations.

They stuck mostly to large cities where people of their kind could blend in without being noticed. Herbert had a knack for finding elderly shut-ins or recluses where they could steal license plates without it being noticed. Whenever they traveled to a new area, that would be the first thing they’d do.

They were on the road for two years crisscrossing the country before they ended up in Sacramento. It was in a local supermarket that Herbert caught a glimpse of Mrs. Shannon. That was all that was needed. Just a glimpse of her. Just something as random as that. They followed her back to her house and gained entrance as she struggled with her groceries and the door, and then kept her alive for an hour as they did things to her.

Near the end Charlie went upstairs and took a nap. They had spent most of the night driving from Los Angeles and he was tired and wasn’t much into it. This one was basically Herbert’s. As he napped, he heard the woman’s muffled screams and a peaceful contentment warmed him over.

When he woke he was surprised to see that over three hours had passed. Herbie should’ve been finished long before then. He should’ve woken him and they should’ve been traveling fast out of Sacramento. Annoyed, he crept downstairs to the kitchen and found Herbie sitting down, the side of his face swollen and smeared with blood, his shirt collar soaked in it. There was a body in a crumpled heap on the floor next to him. The woman was in the same spot as when Charlie had left earlier, lying flat on her back on the kitchen table. Now, though, she was staring blankly up at the ceiling with an eight-inch carving knife sticking out of her open mouth. The padded handcuffs they had used on her had been taken off and were on the floor. As Charlie moved closer he noticed the body on the floor was that of a small teenage boy.

Herbie gave his cousin a hard smirk. “Like my handiwork?” he asked. “I thought I’d give her something nice and hard and long to suck on.”

“What happened to you?”

Herbie ran a hand across his cheek and stared enigmatically at his bloodied hand. “This little piece of shit snuck up on me.” He pushed the boy’s body with his boot and then paused and offered his cousin a crooked smile. “Even gods bleed, Cuz. Believe it or not.” He turned his gaze from his hand back to the body on the floor and gave the kid a kick in the ribs. The boy moaned with the blow.

“He’s still alive?” Charlie asked incredulously.

“Yeah, he’s going to be alive a bit longer.” Herbie gave the boy another kick in the ribs and the boy let out another unconscious moan. “As soon as he wakes up from his nap we’re going to spend some more quality time together. I’m not anywhere close to being done with him.”

Long shadows were forming across the dead woman’s torso. Charlie glanced anxiously at a clock on the wall and saw it was four o’clock. “Look, Cuz,” he said, “it’s getting late. We have to get out of here.”

Herbie was shaking his head adamantly, his eyes hardening into sharp, pale crystals. “Sorry, this little piece of shit is going to get to know hell real well before I send him to it.”

“Cuz, this is stupid. We’re putting ourselves at risk-”

“You want to leave now; okay, fine, let’s take him with us.”

All Charlie could do was stare at his cousin with his mouth hung loosely open. “Take him with us?” he sputtered when he was able to. “That’s brilliant, Cuz. Let’s invite a national manhunt to come looking for us. Man, let’s just get rid of him and get the hell out of here.”

“I need more time. Another hour.”

Charlie licked his lips. His mouth felt bone dry. This was crazy. Among other things, their car was parked three blocks away in a supermarket lot. It had borrowed plates and the longer it stayed there the better the chance it would draw suspicion to them. He tried to talk some sense into his cousin.

“We could make this look like some sort of satanic deal,” he said, talking in a quick, panicky rush. “We could cut their hearts out and write some shit on the wall. Cuz, we got to get moving.”

“I need another hour.”

“But-”

“Stop it, Cuz,” Herbie ordered softly.

The way he said it stopped Charlie cold. He knew the look on his cousin’s face and he knew what would happen next if he didn’t stop it.

Herbie rubbed a thumb across the gash on his cheek and grimaced. “You can stay and join me if you want,” he offered, “but not if you’re going to keep acting like this. I don’t need you making me nervous.”