MASTERMIND

In my upbringing, certainties were scarce but for three: Rose was my name, life spared no one, and my family thrived on murder. While many would weave a tale of woe, blaming past abuses or mental afflictions for our deeds, I refuse such clichés. The world loves to rationalize killing, painting it as self-defense or retribution. But murder is primal; it's the essence of nature. We all once roamed as beasts, hunting to survive. Society shackles us with false civility, denying our animal instincts. By denying our predatory nature, we become easy prey in this modern jungle. And like wolves amidst sheep, we remain vigilant hunters in a world that forgets its wild origins.

So why do we kill you may ask? Well, I will answer that for you with something very simple, we enjoy it. What’s not to like about letting your cannibalistic nature come out and get rid of the weaker souls in life? Now and then something evil comes into one’s mind and they don’t act on it because we are controlled into thinking it’s wrong and evil, but what’s more evil? Me killing some miserable piece of shit or the pharmacies prescribing drugs that kill over a million people a year. Don’t try and tell me differently, but this story isn’t about me, my family, or the countless number of miserable souls we wiped off this earth. This isn’t even about why we do it. This is about love and how even a wolf like me can just grab it and take it for myself. Who says I can’t love? Just like animals can love so can I and anyone else like me.

When you are born into a family that kills because they enjoy it, there is usually no room in there for love. It all started with my great grandfather as I am told. His Name Was Eric. He had a normal life as a child. Nothing out of the ordinary. His father was a telegram messenger and his mother had a sewing business on the side while being a stay-at-home mom. For a strange reason, he had grown a fascination with the death of small animals.

At the age of sixteen, his first experience was when his terrier got stuck in a barbwire fence across from his house at his neighbor’s farm. He saw his dog while sweeping his mother’s porch. He ran over across the street and sat beside him while he watched his dog squeal in pain as the barbwire was wrapping tighter and tighter around his neck and body. He decided to get rid of his pain. He took his shirt off and grabbed the barbed wire tightly, but firmly to make sure he didn’t puncture his hands. Slowly and slowly he pulled tighter and tighter as the thorns of steel dug into his bright yellow terrier’s fur and blood dripped down. His eyes grew colder and colder. Eric’s pleasure got greater and greater. His body felt warm and was tingling. His head lifted in the sky as his eyes started to roll back from the pleasure of seeing his dog’s life end. He didn’t know what was coming over him. All he knew was it felt amazing. That’s when he realized it didn’t matter who or what he was killing. The act of the deed didn’t seem to make a difference either although he enjoyed the use of long blades more. It gave him pleasure either way.

When he turned eighteen he enlisted in the army. At the time, it was in the heat of World War Two. His use of unpredictable torture methods and unique skill at interrogation made him one of the best. On his Twenty-First birthday, he met a young woman on the outskirts of Japan. She was just stumbling along a dirt road in her tattered dress. Blood comes from the side of her face as she looks blankly into his eyes. She wasn’t scared or in pain. Many people he tortured were scared which was intoxicating to him. Their screams of pain were like a rush of heroin going through his veins, but she was different. She could have cared less if someone had raped and killed her. She had no soul. He walked over to her while she was sitting in front of a burned-down hut. He kneeled to her while they both locked eyes. It was as if they saw the same thing. Nothing. He asked if she spoke English and if she had a name. She said, “Yes I speak English. My name is Baton”. He picked her up and carried her in his arms. He took her back to a hut he was using as his barrack. He took her clothes off and put her in the tub. He looked at her body in astonishment, as he saw cuts in her soft flesh. Her meat was still tender from the knife. Her body looked like it was torn apart and put back together again. It was as if his victims knew nothing of torture as she did. Her head was bashed in. Her genitals were torn to shreds from the excessive amounts of rape. He got up and made some hot water for the tub. He came back and poured the hot water over her body. The tub filled with a mess of blood and dirt as he kept pouring more and more water. Her body shook with pain from the water seeping into her wounds. He bathed her slowly to make sure he didn’t make the wounds worse than they were. It was unusual for him to take care of someone. He tortures people for a living and fun and now he is taking care of someone who’s been tortured by someone like him. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her what he did while bathing the deep wounds of skin and blood. There was a connection he felt with her though. She didn’t fear death. She welcomed it like it was a gift. She didn’t even mind asking what he was doing when he picked her up on the street in front of that morgue of a hut. At least for now, all he knew was he wanted to keep her alive. Even if it’s just for a little while. He took her out of the tub and dried her body off. He put a towel on his futon. He then laid her down on the towel. Blood was still pouring slowly from her body as her wounds were very deep. He took out his torture kit because he had all his necessities for his beautiful hobby he thought of as art. He took out a needle and thread. Grabbed the alcohol and warned her quietly near her ear, “This is going to hurt”. He poured the alcohol on and cloth and patted her arms to her legs slowly as she screamed in agony. She even begged him to kill her at one point to which he responded by slowly caressing her hair and singing the song his mother had sung him “Over the Rainbow”. It wasn’t unusual for him to sing. He found his best pleasure when he sang to his victims as they were screaming with fright and pain. Talking and taunting them before they died made Eric smile. Her body was sweating by now. Her fever was rising and she began to sleep. It made it much easier to work, but now he had to figure out a way to bring the fever down. He decided to finish his work. He grabbed the needle and thread. He carefully positioned them together as the needle slowly inched into the needlepoint. He grabbed his pinchers and closed her skin where the wounds showed worse tightly together as he started sewing her velvet skin. As he finished his last stitch on her wounds, he wiped her body down with a wet towel. She shook from the fever starting to set in. He cleaned the blood away from the stitches, wiped her head with a rag then covered her with a blanket and let her sleep. He went to his room closed it and went to sleep.

The next morning, he awoke and cooked some rice with egg soup. He knelt next to her. He looked at her while she was sleeping and couldn’t believe how beautiful her skin looked. So, soft and delicate. He just didn’t want to ruin such beautiful skin. He never minded taking the skin off his victims slowly as he created what he called his masterpiece of blood and darkness. This however was different. Such beauty to the skin he had never seen before. He awoke her while she was still sweating from the fever. He slowly fed her the rice while letting her sip on some water to quench the tremendous thirst she had. Her lips were white and chapped to the point there were bleeding from the dehydration. She looked at him and asked, “Why are you doing this?”. He looked at her blankly for a minute and thought about it. He finally looked at her with a poised look and said “I see in your eyes the darkness you hold. The hate you can’t let go of. The emptiness you feel inside and want to constantly fill, but can’t. I know what you want to do and I’m going to help you”. She looked at him with a confused, but interested look. “I don’t know what you are saying”, she says. Of course, she didn’t want to tell him. This stranger tells her that she has a darkness. He understood her concern. He looked at her with a confident look and said, “Don’t worry Miss. You can trust me” “What makes you think I can trust you. What if you do something to me?”, she asked in a stern tone. He looks at her and laughs.” “Because I would have killed you already if I wanted to.” “This is true”, she says. He tells her to get rest and leaves her be. The next few days were easy as America was already starting to win the war. He looks forward to going home soon, but this woman. She mostly slept all day. She would eat here and there, but nothing too much. Most days she ignored him still unsure of his trust. Eric continued to take care of her wounds and kept her safe and fed.

One night Eric came back with more food to cook dinner. He was not needed in the war currently and that gave him time to spend with Baton. She was healing quite well. Her fever had broken and her appearance was clearing up. Eric noticed the beauty she possessed, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted by her looks. While he was trying to cook dinner, she came out of the room she was in and look around.

When they were eating dinner together it was raining outside. It began to get cold in the hut, so Eric needed to light a fire. Baton did not look at him or talk to him much. She ate slowly. Eric cook potatoes, chicken and vegetables. It was time she eats something that put meat on her bones.

“I want you to help me.” Baton spoke quietly to him.

Eric look at her with a strange look. “Help you?” He questions. He wanted her to say the words. It would let him know she is ready.

“When I was a little girl, my mother and father were killed and I was taken away into slavery. Since I was three years old I have witness nothing, but war and hate. At six years, old I could escape. An old couple took me in, fed me, clothed me and took me to school. I began to think I was going to live a normal life. Our village was attack and I was sold again. When war and random attacks happened where I was staying I would always escape. Three months ago, five men attack me, found me wandering the forest where I thought it was safe. They capture me and took me on a ship. I don’t suppose I need to tell you the horrors of what they did to me. After they took turns raping me, they left me to starve in a dungeon with rats. I was tied up and only used when they wanted to rape me. When their ship got attacked, I escape, but there was a war, everyone was screaming and I was trying not to get blown up by the bombs. Local soldiers did capture me and torture me, convince I knew something.”

Eric touch her hand, she pulled away, scared. She was not ready to be touched by another man. “I am sorry. I will help you.” Eric told her.

“But why? I have been here for a few days, you could have killed me, torture me or rape me and you instead you took care of me. I know what you are. I have seen in the eyes of many soldiers.” She told him.

“Then you should understand why I am willingly to help you now.”

“Okay.”

That night after dinner, Eric showed her his tools. Her eyes glisten at the sight of them. When her fingers touch them, Eric saw that glimmer in her eyes the same one he had.

“Careful. This is a path that there will be no turning back.” He warned her.

“Enlighten me.” She said sure of herself as she picks up a knife and trace the edge with her finger nail.

They traveled throughout Japan, searching for the men on the ship that capture her. Finding them was easy. They were staying at a local whore house.

At night Eric, planned the attack by drugging each of them and taking them hostage. Eric torture them and Baton killed him. Baton watch and observed Eric closely at his methods of torture, the screams or blood didn’t bother her. She stared into their eyes, knowing what each of them did to her rehearsing the pain she felt again and again as she took their life from there treacheries bodies used to inflict pain on her. The captain of the ship is the one Baton wanted to torture. Finding him was difficult. He had been traveling through Japan too, murdering people and stealing their food and money. Eric found him at a local inn.

Eric hit him on the back of the head with a hammer to capture him. He took him to abandon ship where he tied him up in a chair. When Eric awaken him the first eyes he saw was Baton’s.

“Hello Captain Isaac.” Baton said dryly.

“What the hell is this?” Isaac said struggling to get out the rope.

“I knew you wouldn’t remember me. Do you remember how much people you kill or women you rape?”

Isaac started laughing. “Sure, I do. I rape two women before coming here although I believe one of them was her daughter. Best and youngest I have ever had.”

Baton showed no emotion at his open blatant disregard for his cruelty toward people. Baton grabbed a pair of rusty scissors with both hands and presented it to him. Eric just watch in the dark in silence. He was amazed on how well Baton was handling herself. She had no fear. In the weeks, they spent, hunting the men down her despair turned into strength and she was no longer afraid.

“Now I am going to rid you of your tool for causing women pain.” Baton said.

She used the scissors to cut his dick. Isaac screams could have shaken the ship from how loud they were and Baton’s dress was covered in his blood. They left him tied up and decided to let him bleed to death. Rat’s began to pour in the room to taste the blood from how hungry they wore. Baton watch as the rats feasted on his blood and remember how they once feasted on her, then she slammed the door shut and locked it.

That night it was late. Eric figured Baton wanted to get some rest. She appeared different however. Before she never tortured any of the men. She always watched Eric do that part and now she had finally done it herself. She noticed how much she loved it.

“Are you alright?” He asks her.

“Yes, I will be fine. Why do you kill people?” She asks him.

The question caught Eric off guard. “Hard to explain. It can’t be explained. I just have a desire to kill. I surrender to the cannibalistic nature we as humans possess. The desire of taking someone's life and when that desire is fulfilled, it makes me feel power. You need to get some rest.” Eric said patting her on the knee and leaving to his room.

During the night, it began to snow lightly. Since the war began tonight was the first night it was silent among the streets. So, silent you could hear the snowflakes fall. Eric lit a fire that night. He slept nude and in the glimpse of the moonlight he saw a shadow, he awakes and draws out his knife from under his pillow, but his tension ease when he saw it was Baton. He was shocked because she never came out of her room at night. He was about to ask her if something was troubling her, but he froze when she pulled off her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing her nude body. Her soft, delicate brown eyes showed she was needing fulfillment in another way.

Since her wounds began to heal she didn’t need him to bathe her again. Eric saw her body in the moonlight. It was beautiful. She let her hair down. Eric did not know how to approach this situation. Eric had never been with a woman. Killing was always his first love.

“Numerous men have used my body to inflict pain on me. I always pretended I was somewhere else while it was happening.” Baton told him, still standing up before his bed.

“Baton . . . you do not have to do this.” Eric told her.

“You don’t want me?”

“It’s . . . it’s not that . . . Baton I have never been with a woman and I do not think I would be a good lover.”

“Eric . . . before I met you I didn’t want to live. I beg for people to kill me and instead of killing me they have tortured me. When you told me you would help me I was afraid. I thought you were mad until you stayed true to your word. I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it or deal with killing someone after tonight . . . I felt exactly what you told me you felt when you did it. I feel power. The power to take someone’s life is remarkable.”

“Baton I can’t allow my feelings to control me. There is no love for me.”

“I love you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. You are the only one that has shown me any kindness. Let me show you the same. Let’s experience it together.”

Baton came in the bed and laid down beside and kiss Eric on the lips. Eric. didn’t protest the kiss. He had gotten close to her. Her skin was so smooth and soft as he touched her shoulders and allowed his hands to travel down to her arms. He kisses her collarbone and gazed at her tiny, pink, erect nipples.

Eric laid his hand upon one breast and was unsure of himself. Killer or not he was still a pain and reasoned with himself it was okay to want desire. Baton stood on knees on my bed and place her nipples to my mouth.

“It’s okay Eric.” She whispered.

This wasn’t okay. Eric tried to push her away, but his body wasn’t doing what his mind was telling him to do. He opened his mouth and just kiss them when he felt Baton shudder, he kissed them again and kissing soon become licking and licking turned into gently suckling. While Eric suckle on tiny buds he reached and felt her vulva. He pushed one finger inside her and felt her moisture. When he heard her moaning, is when he felt his erection.

“Eric it’s okay.” Baton whisper to Eric.

He grabbed Baton gently by the arms and got on top of Baton and just kiss her. Until she opened her legs and guided his erection to her wet opening. At the first feeling of Baton’s walls that contract around him, he found it hard to breathe as the pleasure was very intense. He stroked her slow at first, finding a smooth rhythm. It felt . . . warm. Warm and tight. The friction is what made it feel better. Eric heard Baton moan. Moans of pleasure not pain. He went harder and faster, until he climaxes and collapse on Baton, sweating. They gazed into each other’s eyes and began kissing repeatedly.

They made love all night long. Eric never kiss someone so much before in his life. Baton could not get enough of him. Before Eric, she never enjoyed this act, but she was falling in love with him. Drawn to him and his aroma. After that night, they had fallen in love with each other. In the morning, Eric awake and found Baton sleeping peacefully on his chest and he smiled and continued to sleep with her.

When the war ended and it was time to go back home to America and Eric took Baton with him. He would not have it any other way. Baton was now his wife. They had a small ceremony in Japan, he would make it official once they returned to America. In two months’ time, Baton was with child. Eric was happy at news. All his life he only enjoyed killed and now he now had a partner to confide in. That understood him and loved him as he loved her.

Neither of them had stopped killing either. Baton went on to find others who have hurt her with Eric by her stand and together it felt like they were conquering the world. Days of and nights of there passion mix in with nights of torture and killing.

When Eric was twenty-six he got a medal of valor for serving. He enjoyed his time in the army. Being able to torture people, receive pleasure and then a medal for it. What more could he have asked for. The problem was when he got home it wasn’t like that anymore. He now had a family to support. The world was boring and normal again. He wouldn’t get a medal for torturing someone here. Taking their eyes out one by one would be fifteen years to life here back in America. He also couldn’t risk Baton’s safety now that she was pregnant. When they traveled back to America they held hands as Eric tried to figure out what he was going to do.

His mom and dad were waiting for him when he arrived standing tall with the proudest of faces that a parent of any child could have. For Eric, this was a treat. He was awarded for what got him off and his parents couldn’t be any prouder of him for it. Now let’s not get things twisted. His parents didn’t know anything other than their son being a proud man and servant of America. What he did in secret was for him and now Baton as well. As he learned from experience in the war you can’t keep people close or you will hurt them or your family. Now that he had a family of his own he needed a code to keep his family safe while still doing what he loved the most.

He knew sooner or later without a code or a method, he would get caught. Killing in America was not as easy as it was in either countries. Usually other countries were in such distress from war, a poor economy, malnutrition and suffering from sickness that no one had the time or patience to care if someone died or not. And they had little resources to search for criminals.

One night Baton was washing Eric in a bathtub, while there three-month year old daughter was sleeping. None of them had killed since coming back to America. Baton could tell Eric was in distress from it as she was. Eric couldn’t walk down the street without thinking of splitting someone’s throat and watching the waterfall of blood pour out. Him killing is not something that could be suppressed.

“Your parents do not like me.” Baton stated as she washes his chest with a sponge.

“They do. The last thing they expected for me was to marry a Japanese woman. They are just surprised.” Eric said.

“You have not killed since we came here.” She spoke softly.

“Not as easy. There is a method I need if I plan on not getting caught.”

“You mean we.”

“What?”

“We will kill together.”

“No Baton. This isn’t like Japan. We have a child to think about now. I want you to be there for Emily just in case I am not.”

“Eric, you are not doing this alone. You and I love each other and I still want to be a part of everything you do.”

“Baton listen to me you don’t need to do this anymore. The people who have hurt you have been punished.”

“I don’t want to continue for them. I want to continue for you. I am pregnant again.”

Eric then kiss Baton and then smiled at the news of having another baby. Emily was so precious to him. A mixture of him and Baton. As time went on and he settled with his family he was able to develop codes. Baton help him. The codes they decided on were:

1. Don't get caught.

2. Killing must serve a purpose, otherwise it's just plain murder.

3. Be sure you are ready.

4. Control the power don’t let it control you.

5. Show no mercy as it is a sign of weakness

In following those codes, him and Baton could kill enough to fulfill their enjoyment, but have a happy family and not get caught. They went on loving each other and killing each other.

And that is how the family legacy all started. It also helps to know powerful people, but it is not a necessity.

Ever since then committing murder just ran in the family. I know what you are thinking now . . . we are all sick or crazy or both. Maybe we are, but before you judge remember humans have one thing in common, no matter race, gender, or religion . . . it is human nature to have desires. When I say desire I just don’t mean sex for that is human nature as well. Desire just means to strongly wish for something. Only difference with my family is our wishes for our desires come true.

We don’t mainly kill for money; that is just a plus. We kill because we are evil and we enjoy it. The pleasure from killing is a power you can’t help, but be a slave too as it empowers you.

The evil and enjoyment of killing a person just runs in the family. Don’t get me wrong we have our share of mental trauma and issues in the family, but I won’t use it as an excuse for what we do. I am going to give you a brief description of my family. Just a little general information so you can understand them better and why not start with the leader and who taught me everything I know . . . Dad of course we are all Caucasian by the way, since Baton another race hasn’t been added to the family tree.…