Randy and Walter: Killers Read online

  His mother’s long, blonde beautiful hair was wrapped around her face and was stuck against her sweating breasts as she rode on top of the preacher, who was lying upon the wooden coffee table. His hands felt their way to her breasts and squeezed them and pulled. Their cries of passions entangled as each enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. Randy turned around and went back to his room with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face.

  Randy awoke with the sun in his eyes and wind slapping him in the face thanks to an open window. He yawned and got to his feet; today his revenge would come. He walked out into the hallway and went into the kitchen. He poured himself some juice and drank it quickly. When he was done, he walked into the living room, but it was empty. There was no sign of anyone ever being in the room. Confused, he looked around quickly then ran into his mother’s room and gasped.

  Nothing. Nothing and no one at all was in the room.

  Except a single white piece of paper in the middle of the room where her bed should have been. On it was a note that simply said in large black letters, I HAD TO LEAVE.

  Randy crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it out the window. A grim frown creased his lips as he realized right then that he hated everything and everyone.

  He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of liquor. He popped the cork and began to pour the contents over everything. He made sure to soak the entire house using every bottle of liquor in the kitchen cupboard.

  When he was through, he went into his bedroom and opened the top drawer. His lighter was underneath his favorite black shirt and he grasped it firmly. He walked to the front door and opened it, turned around and lit the lighter.

  He put the flame to the floor and the fire flared up. The heat covered his back as he walked down the front stairs and then stopped and turned around.

  Randy started to laugh proudly as his house burned to the ground. The fire lit the sky red; smoke billowing around his ankles as the flames spread to the other houses.

  Satisfied, Randy turned and ran.

  157

  RANDY AND WALTER: KILLERS

  Chapter 2

  Years before he killed his wife and daughter, Randy had killed another, although he’d forgotten about it; pushed it out of his head.

  Also, it was an accident.

  Seven years had passed since he burned down his home in Birmington, North Carolina and Randy was doing rather well for himself.

  He moved to a small town named Rapshure in South Carolina, a close-nit little town where everyone knows everyone’s name but not their interests. Here, Randy found himself a good job as a trim-carpenter and a small trailer to live in at the middle of town. For a couple of years, life seemed to pass by him. Day after day it was always the same. Work then home, work then home. Always the same, always boring.

  That was until one day when he was on his way home and he decided to stop by a local bar to have a beer. Over the past few years, he always passed by the same bar but had never stopped in.

  Until now.

  He didn’t know why he stopped and he couldn’t even say what he wanted to drink. He just knew he wanted to stop.

  Randy walked into the bar with his head hung low, not knowing quite what to expect. He sat down at the bar and asked for a beer. The bartender looked at him for a minute and poured him a glass of something foamy. Randy sat there for a moment, slowly sipping on his beer until he noticed the girl staring at him from across the room. She had long brunette hair and a short, nearly perfect body. Her face was nearly angelic in its features and even from across the bar her pale blue eyes seemed to pierce into his very soul. Without thinking, Randy stood up and walked over to her. He wasn’t sure why, as he had never been so impulsive before. But this time, he was, and he knew he wanted this girl. He stood behind her and watched her for a moment, wondering what to say to her. Then she looked behind her and looked right into Randy’s eyes.

  For just a moment, the two of them were all alone in the bar, everyone else seemed to fade away. After perhaps three minutes, she finally spoke. “What’s your name?”

  This question woke something up inside of Randy he never knew was there. His brain fluttered to life and a sly smile creased his lips. No one had ever really paid him any attention before now. In fact, since his mother, Randy hadn’t been with another woman. Men were no different. Aside from the occasional joking at his expense, no man noticed him either.

  This girl however did notice him. She even asked him his name.

  “Randy,” he replied, feeling just a bit cocky and sure of himself. “My name’s Randy. What’s yours?”

  She smiled at him, showing off two rows of perfect white teeth. “My name’s Amy.”

  Amy, he thought.

  The name sung through his ears like a bell. She answered him, she’ds told him her name and she had even smiled afterward. Randy fell in love right there in the bar. The moment was beautiful and for a moment life was perfect. He saw his whole life with this woman. Their first date, their first love-making experience, their wedding, their kids all the way until they were old and wrinkled. He even saw their tombstone; their names were together one above the other.

  Randy and Amy.

  It just seemed too unreal, unnatural. It began to scare him a little. He started to back up but he didn’t notice the man standing behind him. His back slammed into the guy and a loud crash awoke his senses. The man behind him had dropped his glass. Randy shuddered, he knew what was coming. A large overgrown hand slammed down onto Randy’s shoulder, and before he was pulled away, he noticed Amy’s smile.

  It was still there, and she may have been laughing, too. It was all just another joke. Then he was outside in the rain. The sun had long since gone away to make room for the moon. The street lights blinded him as his eyes tried to focus.

  He felt a sharp jolt in his stomach. He was punched and his innards felt it. Perhaps they too were laughing. Everything was laughing, and everyone. He hunched over and almost fell to his knees, but the man caught him. He hadn’t even seen his face yet but he did see the fist that flew into his face.

  Randy’s head jerked back and he felt something hot stream down his chin. He knew he was bleeding but didn’t care, he couldn’t care. Not right then. The man was yelling something, was cursing someone. It was all intelligible. All he heard was skin cracking against skin and bone against bone. The man was firmly holding him by the collar of his shirt with one hand and punching him in the face with the other.

  Light surrounded him. Was he dying? What was happening? Who was doing this to him and why? At the moment, death seemed inevitable, in fact, Randy yearned for it. He wanted to die. He was begging God to let him die.

  But God wasn’t listening, not that night. God no longer cared. Randy was a lost cause. Just a small little fish in a world full of sharks.

  Then...darkness.

  Nothing was felt, nothing was heard. Randy was in the dark, standing alone. All alone, standing by himself with no one else around. But then he heard the soft patter of footsteps slapping through water. Someone else was here standing close to him. Strange that he didn’t hear breathing. Stranger still that he could hear giggling. A voice called out to him, the voice of a child. The voice of a little girl. Randy looked towards the voice and saw the owner, a little red-haired girl with an angelic smile on her face. She was strangely beautiful, even stranger was the fact that she stood naked and glistening as if her skin was layered with water. Her eyes pierced him. Dark green eyes that shone throughout the darkness. Something was very wrong here, he could feel it.

  She was still speaking although her mouth wasn’t moving. “No love for Mommy.” The words rang through Randy’s head over and over again. The voice got louder and louder. He covered his ears but it didn’t help. There was no escaping the words, no escaping the voice. The sweet voice of the girl was a travesty, and she was a monstrosity. Something was going through his head. Pictures of blood and bodies. A thousand females lying motionless in red-stained water. Their naked bod
ies split apart and mutilated. Someone hated them. Someone who was currently lying face down in a mud puddle left alone weeping. The women had hurt someone and they would all have to pay. The children had ruined everything and so they, too, would have to pay.

  Sooner or later everyone pays. Randy knew it, and so did the little red-haired girl. Then she was gone and so were the images and the thoughts of hatred.

  Nothing else to bother him but darkness.

  Water...rancid tasting water filled his mouth. Chunky, oily, muddy water filled his nose. He lifted his head out of the puddle and rolled over, gagging over the taste and catching his breath. His face felt broken as did the rest of his body. He gave himself a minute before he finally sat up, his eyes adjusting to the lights of the bar.

  No one was around, nobody had stayed to help him. Nobody cared. He could have cried right there sitting in the rain in front of the little bar, but he didn’t. Randy instead promised himself to never cry again; to take any abuse given and smile at it. All because of some weird dream he had while he was unconscious. The little girl had been right. No love for Mommy. No love for any woman no matter how kind they seem.

  After what seemed like hours, Randy finally got to his feet and stumbled to his car. Before he opened the driver’s door, he paused to look at his reflection in the window.

  His face was terrible, a muddled mess. His nose was broken and bleeding, both eyes swollen and bruised. His jaw twisted a bit to the side. An assortment of welts and bulges protruded from beneath his skin. Blood still ran down his face and throat. For a second he pondered about going to a hospital but within a second he decided not to. Instead he climbed into his car and drove home.

  Randy arrived home a little after midnight. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of bourbon he kept in his freezer. Opening the bottle, he began to drink furiously as he ripped his clothes off with his free hand. He stopped drinking just long enough to look down at his body.

  Parts of his anatomy were blackened and more welts covered his torso and legs. Whoever the guy was had given him one hell of a beating. His insides felt as if they were on fire so Randy continued to drink. After a few more gulps, he finished the bottle and before he went to take a shower he took long enough to find another bottle of liquor. The second bottle turned out to be a bottle of vodka. Smirnoff to be precise. Like the bourbon, he drank it straight, chugging it as he stumbled his way into the bathroom.

  He took enough time to turn on the faucets in the tub and ran himself a hot bath. He lay down inside the steaming water and almost fainted from the pain but finally settled in comfortably. He finished his new bottle and dropped it on the floor next to the tub. Within mere minutes he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Randy awoke on his cheap, brown leather couch. Sometime in the night, in a drunken daze, he had stumbled his way into the living room and laid down. The sun was beating down on his body now; still nude and as bruised and beaten as it had been the night before.

  The pain seemed to power through his body like several thousand volts of electricity shooting throughout his veins. He rubbed his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. The pains of both swollen eyes jolted him and forced him to vomit. He fell onto the floor heaving and retching, vomiting up a clear liquid mixed with blood. Something inside him was broken and he knew he no longer had a choice; he needed to go to a hospital. As much as he hated doctors, he had to go. But he couldn’t drive. In fact, he doubted he could even muster the strength to put on any clothes. He crawled to the end table where his phone lay and grabbed it up.

  The woman on the other end didn’t sound helpful at all, she sounded like some bitch whose day was ruined by showing up for work. Probably some spoiled, rich fucker’s daughter. After the call was finished, Randy leaned against the end table and waited. His eyes barely open to the world, he felt as if he would pass out at any minute. His head teetered back and forth, threatening to fall over at any time. As sirens sounded outside and EMTs came through his front door, (thank God he’d forgotten to lock it) sleep and darkness finally took him.

  Darkness once again clouded around him as he found himself standing there once again. In some dream world he couldn’t seem to escape.

  He anxiously awaited the giggles of the red-haired girl. They never came and neither did the images and thoughts of hate that followed her. Instead, a light came. A pale blue light, the lights of a hospital room. But not his room, someone else’s. Somewhere a woman was screaming and howling. Doctors were urging the screaming lady to push and push and breathe and breathe. Randy turned to look upon the people who owned the voices.

  Several doctors crowded around a single woman whose legs were in the air on metal spikes that stuck through her ankles. Her feet looked as if they had been gnawed to the bone by some predatory animal. Randy was witnessing a birth. But not the type of birth you hear about, this was different, evil somehow.

  Something was very off here. The doctors surrounding the woman were wearing bloodstained hospital attire. Their faces, although covered by green masks, were skinless. Muscle and bone was all their bodies bore. It was the eyes that really frightened Randy. The doctor’s eyes had no pupils but were instead glimmering bright silver.

  Silver beams of light that seemed to burn the woman’s skin as they looked upon her. Their voices were deep guttural growls that sounded like the sounds an angry wolf might make.

  The walls surrounding them all were streaked with rust and leaked some sort of yellowish liquid that looked like pus, something that may come out of a pimple. The floor beneath their feet was covered in the pussy liquid dripping from the mother.

  Then, Randy’s eyes fell upon the man. He was standing next to the birth mother holding her hand, comforting her. He looked normal. In fact, the man looked like his father, the man he’d seen in all of his mother’s photographs. Randy began to walk over to the couple, but abruptly stopped when gallons of blood exploded onto the floor. The blood was coming from between the woman’s legs. It ran out of her like a twisted fountain of some sort. The woman’s body began to shrivel up into nothing. The skin wrinkled and curled up into itself as the muscle beneath it pulled away from the bone and curled with the skin. The bones themselves fell to the floor around the bed.

  No more noise. No screaming, no more blood flowing, no nothing. That is until the lead doctor held up the newborn and announced, “It’s a boy!”

  Randy awoke suddenly, his eyes adjusting to the lights around the room. Beside him was a nurse.

  She looked at him and smiled and he did the same.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Barcer. You’ve been asleep for a few days now.”

  Puzzled by this he had to ask, “What do you mean a few days? What happened?”

  “Well, you passed out because of your wounds. You had three broken ribs, a broken nose and a fractured jaw. Your right knee cap was shattered and your left had three torn ligaments. Not to mention some internal bleeding. You’re very fortunate to be alive right now.”

  “Ya’ll were able to fix me up, right?”

  “Yes, sir, we were. We stopped the internal bleeding and you’ve been sedated since you came out of surgery.”

  “How do you know all this? Usually only doctors know this sort of information.”

  “Because I kept an eye on you the whole time.” The nurse blushed and quickly walked out of the room as if she’d said too much. Randy didn’t really care though. As of this moment, he was just glad to be alive and breathing.

  About twenty minutes later, the doctor walked through the door. He was a tall man with a clean-shaven face which was clear of any imperfections. Small, round hazel colored kind eyes shone through a pair of gold, wire-rimmed glasses. His smile showed two rows of perfectly white teeth. He looked more like a guy in a movie than he did a doctor. He introduced himself as Dr. Stevens and said he had good news.

  He told Randy that in three days he would be well enough to leave. His abrasions had gone down considerably and no eternal damage had been done. Wit
hin a few months, he would look as if he was never in a fight, which was remarkable. After he finished his report, he smiled one last time and left the room.

  Later that night, the nurse returned to watch over Randy, only this time, he woke up. They talked for a while and she introduced herself as Cheryl Lynn.

  She was quite an attractive woman, with shoulder-length black hair a short yet sharp no-nonsense face. Yet she giggled a lot. Her body was thin and even if she had imperfections, it wouldn’t matter as her personality more than made up for it. They spoke all night until the sun came up. When she left to go home, Randy had slept with a smile on his face.

  It was very possible he may have finally found someone he could live with.

  Two days later, Randy found himself outside the hospital waiting for Cheryl to pick him up. She had told him she would the previous day.

  Here he was waiting while smoking a cigarette she left for him when he heard someone scream.

  No sooner did it begin, than the scream was muffled immediately. Wondering what was happening, he followed to where the scream had come from. A few cars away from him, a black van was shaking wildly from side to side. Randy, not entirely sure what was happening, ran to the van. He got to the back and looked through one of the windows and saw Cheryl being attacked by Dr. Stevens. She was punching him and clawing at him, trying to get away at any cost, but Dr. Stevens was determined and held her down with one hand while he used the other to unfasten his belt. Randy opened the door and jumped into the back of the van. He grabbed the doctor by his hair and threw him backwards. As Dr. Stevens fell out of the van, he pulled a small handgun out of his coat. Randy didn’t give him a chance to pull the trigger. He grabbed it out of his hand and dropped it behind him. He didn’t want to kill the guy; he wanted to beat him senseless. Unexpectedly, the gun went off when it landed.