You are on page 1of 8

THE CHILDRENS CASTLE ON, GOLDMARRY

LANE

the cleansings

at a moments notice it could all be over, i could be staring the down barrel of an automatic
assultrifle, no time for flashbacks, no time to think about why. hey, anyways, so maybe i saw the
kid, maybe i didnt, they all tried to act like didnt care, but i was the only one that really didnt give
a f@ck. ok so was there me, im kielynn, clifford, kieth, and james. kieth, the perttyboy, though i
didnt think he was so handsome, if you'd ask my ma, i was always the looker. keith, he tried to
keep his hands in pockits all night jingling the spare change he had found in the back sit of my
fathers limo, he was a pussy, he tired to be like the rest of us, but all he did was watch, while we
freed ourselves. she was a beatiful little girl, even still as my rage oozed from her stomach, the
flowers on her sunday dress wilting, while i cherished my kill, i will cherish all thier killings, but
espeacially the childs, only because they say she was innocent, she carreis her father genes,
they were all gulity. who says killing is wrong, everthing that loves, kills. life itself, kills, the very
thing that keeps us alive, kills. though i dont think of myself as being a killer, i hate that word, it is
too perment, i am an averger, like my father before me, the GREAT AVENGER. now they can fill
it, my wonderouse pain, it clings to their bodies like peely skin, natrualy, they tried to deny my
pain, but it rapes, it forces its way in. i am no MONSTER, i am the AVENGER. her hair soft like
dreams, wrapped frimly around my dry hands, i could see them leeking out, her dreams, i
dragged her around the room for all to see. scream they did, feeding my imagination, i must
reward their screams. they will enjoy the spectical. so, who shall cast for the part, the litte girls
hair still dancing between my fingertips, lucinda, the little girls name, after her grandmother no
dout, they have the same eyes. james, i shall cast him for the part. james! get over here, i yell
with a snarl, he walks towards me with the swagger my father gave him. i tug at lucindas hair as
she clutches her biles, dont do that, i yell at the child, allow your love one too see thier sins.
james doesnt make hast, he knows hows it is be to done, reluctently, i hand over the knife, i fill
enadiquent now, no longer holding my sword, i am the AVENGER, my brother shares my title, he
shall do fine. he presses the cold steal to her mouth, stofly. her warm breath and the metal,
cressing each other like like teenage lovers, do not frieght child, soon you will have your lovers
kiss. james knows she wants it over quickly, my rage in her tummy reminds her of this, i know
he'll relish this moment, though he wont show it, he's all bisuness that james. the hair still in palm
of my hand, we are one now, the locks and i. james is done preping now, his symphony must
begain, her mother, father, grandmother, sister, brothers, they all jump back in their sets as the
kife now warm form their love making races through her adultlesent years. the blood it runs down
perpubessent nipples, the crowd now on the edge of their sits, go now james dont keep us
wating, what a showman, buliding up suspense like that, gasping for air, she looks to her father,
but his busy nursing his own sins. i will clame her as my own. go now little sister, you must meet
with my father, you he have affiars to settle. lucindas eyes fooled me, though dim, they still carry
light, still so beautiful, i say to myself, so i pull the blade away from my brothers hands and calm
my nearves, agian i thrushed, and agian, again, and again, until i am satitsfied. i pulled james
close to me like father used to do, our work isn't finish yet. james, the youngest of my three
brothers, pulls his fahters 1952 european luger from his belly and throws at clifford, clifford grins,
it is time for his solo, he always was a loner. cllifford speaks, is this your fathers? he says in a
motherly tone to the remaing three teenage children as he slides the childs godless body from
underneath me, her hair, now his too. is this your fathers! he's a bull, he lifts his prize with
eaze, you can hear strains of lucindas blonde beauty tare as he lifts her eye level, her feet tap
dancing on cllifords knees, the puppeters rage now mimicing mine, lois, marcus, and joel, the last
of this families youth, search for the right response in thier grandmothers old eyes. clifford pionts
his pistol toward the grandmother, the bullet spilts the old womans skull in two, now can you see
your answer more clearly, he says to children, go head! take a closer look, lucinda still waltzing,
her feet at cliffords knees. he tosses her to her fathers feet, the child is quet a dancer, he says.
the room tempture a couple degress lower than our boiling blood, blood, everywhere except on
him, kieth, the eldest of my troubled kin. give it here kieth, he hands me my fathers loose change.
this is what you left me with, i say to thier fallen king. he looks at me with sad eyes that hold
nothing except the soiled image of his litttle princess. come now children, let us get square,
clifford says, now back to his old nuriting self. he sits the doomed three down the same way our
father used to do us when it was time for pray. he gives them all spacific places to sit, joel, you
get in front, marcus, i want you to left of me, and you, lois, to the right. cliff hands me the gun, and
request the knife. the fathers eyes beileve they are feet, lift your head proud king, i say while
pionting the gun. now abbyenda! choose, clifford barks, she looks clifford in his eyes, there are
no pretty rainbows to behold, no bloomig flowers, only storms clouds and gray skies in those dark
eyes. thier mother, abbyenda, sobs, her muffled mones pay tribute to our slain father, but the
time for tears has long since passed, we have uped the anty. they must pay with there lives.
abbyenda, gives her children a long hard look, she knows this is the last time she will ever see
them alive. she watches thier breathing as if she were standing at the foot their beds, checking
on them while they slept. abbyenda beileves she doesnt have the strength to do the task set
before her, but she is wrong, she is this families backbone, litttle does she know she has already
chosen joel. cliff pulls the tape away form abbyendas weathered lips, peaces of dead skin is
ripped way as they give way to a mothers cries, now, we can here them clearly. joel, her first
born, i am not not one to ruin tradishoin, he shall be first agian. cliff holds the kife high, the dagger
pierces the top of the boys skull, the abrupt pain surges through his ganglely body, he flops to his
knees, cliff struggles to pull the xcaliber from joels skull as he kicks the body to the floor. the boys
thoughts now free from his mind, run wild, all over the walls they did, his twiching body, pulsating
like flashes of light, lays qiuetly on the ground. lois, daddys little girl, still seated across form her
brother marcus, she whispers to him, patcients, soon we will gather with our loved ones. their
dead brothers body has now become the line that seperates the two siblings, his arms streched
out as if he is welcoming them to join him . abbyenda is losing her children, they no longer want
to stay here, in this dark place with her, they'er egerness impresses my brothers. for these two
only, we will make hast. clifford brestfeeds marcus the entire clip, his young body horing itself to
the penitrating lugers bullets, his eyes roll back in extasy, marcus climaxes, now, he is innocent.
lois doesnt put up fight, she knows her time has come, james has bad memory, i must remind him
of his lines. i instruct him to strangle the last one, his hands like a noose wrapped around the
girls neck, they all have dancers feet, her mothers yelps help her to keep rhythm. the large tree
from wich she dangles throws her to ground, james, his hands now free, turns to clifford and
snikers as if he has just clamed the lead. the show is now over, only the parents remain, it is now
time for our encore. i call for a standing ovation, to your feet, i say to the father, he meets me at
center stage, with no one left to be strong for, the father weeps, his is namless, left with nothing,
he wonders. we all take sovuiners, even keith, he is no longer a spectator, he tries to hold down
his vomit as he chops off the old womans hands and feet. we make them watch as we disiturbe
thier childrens corpses. they have no words, only emtions, they should be thanking us, this
family, now, they are adiquet

goldmarry road

the house on goldmarry road has seven bathrooms, we always had more than what we needed,
my father saw to that. his soft hands lay teastement to his hard work, it was all old money. we
never knew exactly how my father made his living, he always kept that away from us. every
sunday we made it church, late, my mothers beauty regament has no concept of time. as
children we had no room for an imagination, our dreams already paid for. kielynn, i am the eldest
of my fathers children, his only daugther, now at age 22, i am fatherles. our mother, the
grieveing widow, the part she was born to play. she walks around my fathers house like ghost,
and we her huanted children, the gouls. her words from that night stain my thoughts, do
somthing kielynn, don't let them get away with taking your father from us. i wonder if she'd still
love me if she knew of the somthing i have done. she walks in like movie star, our tears her red
carpet. these seats reserved for the family, the paul bearer says as we take our seats. it was a
funeral like all the rest, sad, people who barly knew him told tales, and of course, flowers for the
widow. though we are a family of means, a fathers passing leavs you with nothing, only for a
while did the killings be still my pain, for blood, i am still thristy.
the normalcy of my fathers passing sickens me, the fact that all must pay for thier sins
allows me to change gods words to fit the deeds that i must do. he died in mothers arm, his
children looked on as he thaught them how to die. there was nothing we could do but watch,
while the darkness came to clame my father, his body riddled with bullets from the nameless
mans gun. our father would tell his children often, that soon he would be going, never would i
have imaged, that it would be so soon. the man made to wonder, without eyes nor tounge, was
my fathers best friend. he called me his neice and my brother his nephews. i only met the
stranger once, before i killed his children, the stories my father told of us, over a boltte of vodka,
has made the man our kin. the story behind my fathers death, lies shallow behind his former best
friends eyes, with fathers dagger, i pried it out. thinking it'll save his offspring, he tells us
everthing, how dare i make of him a hero, still, they are all going to die. my brothers, they all wore
tuxedos, and i the bell of the ball, wore my mother wedding dress, we will give daddy a real
homecomming. the surrogate uncles voice is slured, the beatings my brothers gave him left him
gurgling blood, james hands him his dead little girls blouse to wipe his mouth clean. now speak
clearly, i say in a pupils tone. he looks over at his wife and bows his head, his time for shame
died the moment he kicked down my fathers door and murder him with his family as witnesses,
speak! i say while gritting my teeth. the accused speaks, he never should of went near my little
girls, that father of yours. they were infactuated with the big man, thoese are my little girls, mine.
is an animal, a low down dirty pediphine, woosh, you could hear the wind behind my brothers
gun as as gold lunger shattered the mans teeth, LIAR!!! james cries, as he draws back his wepon
offering the man another smack, the sound of teeth hitting the hard wood floor make kieth
queezy, he doesnt have the stomach for this, cilff directs him to the pile bodies that lie spritless at
his feet, this only upsets my little brother more, stop it cliff, i command, kieth, go pull yourself
togther and hurry back, he must'nt miss a moment, for this occassoin we have dressed, and very
well might add. with keiths return, i continued my inquasion, i act as if the mans story is all a lie,
for the sake of my brothers, i must, i know all to well my fathers habbits, after all, i was his
favorite. the accused man is tired, to weak to contiue, with his tounge now resting on the tip of
my dagger, it begins.
for differnt reasons my brothers and i fed on the mans children, my brothers, to avenge
their murderd caretaker, myself, jelousy.
I was much prettier than those stupuid little girls and their stupid blonde pig tails, besides, he was
my father, and they stole him. their father should of kept them away, far away from
goldmarrylane, then he would of still had their golden locks along his wicked tounge. the first time
it happend i was afriad, but knew i he loved me, he could never hurt me, i was his, and he was
mine. i wish i never would have metaled in fathers affairs, now, a fully grown woman, my lust
takes a hold. where was he going, who was he giong to see, everything he needs is right here, in
my arms. if only he had'nt been in such a rush, i would have thought nothing of it, that it was just
bisuness. but i knew different, father never rushes, hast is for the pesants,us, we could surly
afford to take our time, father would say, if he would of just moved a little slower, i would have
never followed. i was gone for too long, i left my love alone, only to go away for college, to come
back home and find out that he, my father, had found other interst. my fathers wealth, nothing but
a curse on his family, he would do anything for forty pieces of fathers silver, the blonde little girls
father. just let me hold them, just for a night, just for while, father said to his old friend as handed
him the briefcase full of money. the mans greed has sealed his families fate. i never cared to
know how much money little blonde girls cost, the only thing that matters is that my father wanted
them, not me, not any more, my age, my enemy, my fathers undoing.
the blonde girls' mother was sweet, to sweet for likes of me. i didn't want to keep my
secrets, not any longer, i am to blame, for everything, my fathers death, and my lonelyness, with
blood, i will make amends. i caught her on a monday, the little girls' mother. i had been watching
her all day as she ran her errons like good little wife, sent the girls to school, and kissed her
husband goodbye. i waited, just few minutes after the childrens school bus dropped them off.
and then i told her, right in front of her blonde little darlings, her eyes stairing down at her newly
acquired weath, my tarnishing word make daimonds loose thier luster. she snatches off the
jewerly right along with her childern, and storms into the house that her husband purchased with
thier little girls virginity. she must have comfronted him, instilled a fire in him that only wife could
ignite. going back on the arrangement he had made with my father, he came, and he slue,
because of her, and the shame he endured everytime he looked in her eyes. he didnt kill my
father for the sake of his family, he did it so because of her eyes. i couldn't just let him do that, not
to my father or my family, i will show him hate! i will show him discontent!i will show him devils!

the widows flowers

her sons, james 13, cliff 15 and handsome kieth17. clueless to thier father affairs, unaware of
why they were made to ware tuxedos, and i the blushing bride. it was thier thier sister who fed
them thier plan for absultion, they only listened, father has trained them well. i didn't bother to tell
them the back story of why thier father lay dead so early in the morn, they only knew that he was
gone, and that somthing must pay. we are thier weman and they must protect us, these are my
fathers wishes, they will be carried out. cliffrod, my fathers dagger, he keeps it underneath his
pillow. the blade on this weapon is so strange, they will never be able to trace back to us. i tell
him, make sure you clean it after gut them, if he wants to keep it, he can, it was my fahters.
james, he loved my fathers luger, even took it to school with em once ,daddy got so upset that
took away his dirt biike a for whole year, but the gun he was to keep, you must protect this family,
my father told him. kieth, we brought him simlpy because is our brother, he must jion us in our
cursade to clear or fathers name, none of us will speak of the deeds that we have done, the
world won't understand us, that is why we have each other. the night before the cleanseings my
mother orders the cook to perpare our supper, she would be unawre of our future expoliots, no
need to worry her. i had the lobster, my brothers the steak, it was fitting that mother didn't jion us,
it would give us time to remaniss. we talked of father, and how he loved us so, how he always
made time for his precious little things. it was my father who nursed us back to health whenever
we fell ill, this is why cilff a is such nurturer. how father used sit with his boys and sing them to
sleep whlie i waited for his warmth in my silk bedsheets. james has his strength, and kieth my
fathers eyes, but i came out on top, i have his heart, my mother with his treasures. we all took
pieces of him, so he always lingers. in times such as these, families must come together, we
most wipe each others tears as we consume one anothers fates. my mother, she only gives
comfort to own her sorrow, not we, her last. we all felt the saddness, it is so strong in our home
that it our maid drives herself mad trying to mask the awful smells. the woman would lay naked,
all day, in a pool of her own salt, she is too careless with tears, i hope she drowns in them. i wish
she would just have a drink, but she was too much of lady for that, or so she thought. i would
watch her often, trying to catch glympise of what my father saw in her. i was he his widow, and
she his mistress. it was my skin that he craved, and i his, who was she to calme my suffering as
her own. i will find a way to rid her of her flowers, they will grow stronger without her, me and my
fathers traits will keep them company. she has coldness in her eyes, aside from the blue color, it
was there before my fathers passing, and there it still lays. my brothers need warmth, whenever
they fell the need they stair into these brown eyes of mine. i will be as have been before, their
caretaker. it was simple, i would just watch while her stolen grief swallows her whole. thought
not big a drinker, she loved to self medicate, it was only a matter of time. i will go her smelling of
my fathers cologne. i will let her embrace me, nursing her sorrow. she will pull me closer, her
fabercated nose now eskimo kissing my young neck. she will find my fathers things sactterd
about, his unwashed undergarments scenting her feathered pillows. his briefcase wide open,
exposing papers with his signiture. i will have my brother ware his old t shirts, especailly the ones
she had bought him. loud converstions over the phone to grandmother about how we miss we
miss him so. my brothers and i will invite her to places that her and my father used to go. her
grief will drive her insane, it will fill her belly like bread and water. i know my mother weakness, it
drove my father striaght into my bed. for twenty two years i have know mothers weakness, she
shall succomb it, if she dose not, she will force my hand, and i am up for the task. nothing but
strain on my family she has became. in her room all day, shelfishly neglecting her motherly
duties, no matter, just like before, i must take her place.
it was the maid that found her, and why not, they had an intitment enough realationship,
after all, it was her that cleaned up the vomit, time and time again. my brothers and i were out
enhanceing our wardrobes when she called, are you seated she asked, in her thrid world
accent, i giggled, i acted surprised, like i cared. after all, we were shopping for funeral attire, i
took my brothers away, i couldn't let them find her with her shame spewed out all over the
superfical image my father had paid for. it was done, and by her own hand, for once, she dosen't
disappiont. keith, the only one of us that cried, and cursed him for it, with our weaknesses now
abolisted how dare pay homage to it, no longer would i stand by while he walks in his mothers
footsteps. with her passing, we are renewed. he comes from the loins of a lion, and he will act
like.

the grieveing widow's

abbeyenda, her husband now inprisoned for the murder of my father she is forced to grieve
alone. she has become my pastime while my sibling are in school. i keep close track of her, i am
somewhat of artist as i sit back and admire my work. you can see the pain and its vivid colors as
they paint for her a new self image. unshamed she wares it well, proudly i take the blame for her
new found self awareness. dare i go to her and and engage in conversation, after all, we are
nieghbors, what would i say to her, i think to myself still watching her complete tasks that seem to
be so friverliss now. i would ask her of children, and are they in good health, does hear husband
still have his beatiful singing vioce after his terible accident, his tounge now in my possesion. i
would look at her in envy, her pain so beautiful to behold, with her tears she shows gratitude. her
husband will no longer be able to curse my fathers name, the dagger saw to that. after he told his
lies his speech patterns lay without breath on newly polished wooden floors. i can still hear thier
screams, i become aroulsed when i think of the tones, even my fathers hyms cannot compete.
abbeyenda won't be able to kept the house up by herself, i must think of away to ensure that we
are always neighbors. my brothers and i have a trust fund full a gearth, it shouln't be problem, no
one has inqurries about unexplaned packages full of money, espeaceally uneducated housewives
such herself. as long i have breath she will be cared for. i watch as she opens the package, the
letter with the package looks as if it was sent by a haverd educated lawyer, and why not, i
majored in prelaw. i state that it will come regulerly, curtisy of my father and her husbands raw
dealings. with so much in common, her and i should be best friends, but her ignorance keeps us
apart. our pain gives us a common likness. we are both striking woman, the saddness only adds
to our beauty, fuck it, i will indulge myself, i will apoligize for my unexplanned outburst all those
months ago, if she has even a little sense left, she will except. where are the children? she
looks at me, i know she regconizes my boold stained vioce, a mother can never forget the
vibrations that stole her younglings, no matter, she will never be able to fathum that eyes so
similar to her own could do such deeds. they are with god, she says in well to do vioce, but you of
all people know that. are you sure, i respone, my fathers wealth gives me a boldness a i never
exspected, i know to many people in high places, her accusations have no affect on me. my
money and the family secrets that we share gives me a certin power over her, she will do as i bid
her, why she is still clinging to her emtpy life i haven't the fantis idea, i will fill it for her, it is in my
hands. we know everything there is to know about each other, she dosn't want the world to know
that her husband sold her prized pig tailed posessions to my father. she will vaule my friendship, i
wonder if my brothers would mind it if i invited her over for supper. aunty abby, that has nice ring
to it. i will be a comfort to her, tell that she will never have too worry about money agian, allow
the childless woman into my into my arms, into my bed, into my home. greif is brillant suductress,
abby has no one left, she will love me, i know all her secrets, she will run to my beatiful, weathly,
arms. but first, dinner. i don't invite my brothers, just abby and i by candle light. we share
titalizing conversation, i stair into her eyes, keeping her well aware of my intentions, after the
second glass of wine, she is mine, completly, i have her lonliness to thank. she asks if me i have
alwasys been into women, i act as if i am apauld, the only man i could ever let touch me is my
father, you and i share a tragic kinship, i dont look at you as being female, do not be so shallow,
we are kindred sprits, we share the same space, it is only fitting that we become lovers, my words
go down smooth, like the 100 year old wine that slumbers in our bellies. she is pleasing to gaze
upon, her body lays qiuet on my hand stiched bedspreds as she awaits my touch, i don't bother
with cloths, i go to her bare, i want her to lust for me, while she takes in my beauty, i must take
the lead, i will undress her, i comment on her attire as i remove the departmentstore dress away
from her her ageless skin, we must get you a new wardrobe, i say. you deserve me, i whispher
sofly in her ear. her skin soft, like grandmothers white hair, my lips kissing hers, hands on back
smalls, her hips look as if thoses blonde haired children are all a myth, she releases her wonders
infront of me, and i mine. the love making is splinded, worthy of love letters. fullly aware of what i
have taken from her, she makes me apart of her being, i am jesture, for i love her, truly, we one.
now i have taken his lover, as he has taken mine. we are inspeperable, abby and i, my brothers
take notice as it would hard not to, she jions us us for breakfast, lunch and dinner. they will call
her aunty abby, they we will treat her as they do me, as an elder.
i never saw myself ever being in love agian, who could fill my fathers shoes. it impresses
me how she gives herself to me, over and over and over agian each passing day. this is a new
expierance for me, her love is even greater to me then that of my fathers, only because she is
supposed to hate me, of the GIVERS blessings, i am underserveant, but aren't we all. if abby
wants to go college, i will send her, she wants a new car, a mersaedees, i will buy it. her
forgiveness is worth my life .but most of all, she wants my heart, and she shall it, it is hers. the
boys are warming up to her, at first i kept her all to myself, but i couldn't keep the them, what i
love the most, from her, she is a mother, she misses the laughter of children , i will give them to
her to, she must have me fully, and they are all of me. i have new family, i will die before loose
this agian. we go to church, have family dinners, help the boys with homework, and we laugh,
often. they are our children now, this is life i have always wanted, i just couldn't see that. i still
keep abbys' house in good condition, just in case this all dream. if she chooses to leave us, i still
want her close by, the forgiveness she has shown me, makes me ashamed to love her, she is
truly GOD's child. since her comming i have little sadness, we talk of past love ones, nothing is
taboo. we are just too tortured souls, who's touch has mended one another. though she has free
righn over my heart, there are still rooms in my fathers house inwitch she cannot go, she is
closer to her loved ones then she relizes, though i believe she jions me in my ecentricites, seeing
her little girls' hands and feet would surly erect our crimsin past. in time i will test her forgiveness,
the whole quarters will be open to her, if she fails, her eyes will become her wages.
strangly, i am unable to balance this love hate relationship that i have with her. i thought
my love for her would subside, but it only grows stronger each time i stroke her blode beauty. this
is insaine, i wanted her, to love me, i never exspected for the favor to be returned, she now has a
power over me that i cannot handle. i am a slave to her tounge, it forces me to love myself, she
tells me that i am special, that i have attributes that shuold be admired, like my giving sprit, i tell
her that you can give without loving, but there no loving without giving. she looks at and smiles
as i hand her the hairbrush so that she may groom my darkness before bed. we hold each other
absent of light, no ware but in her eyes, do i fell at home, i am frightened of this love, it is to
thorough. if ever i have to be without it, i fill i will parish, i must end this, before her love consumes
me fully piosion, it will do fine. i resent her for being so kind to my brothers and i, after all we have
taken from her, she will pay for loveing me. i take her by the hand, she smiles as i tell her that
there is somthing she must see, i take her to the basement and reveal to her childrens graves as
the poision defiles what is left of her youth, still she unmoved, no fury, only smypathy, for me. she
really loved me, i think to myself, as i reunite her with her long lost family. i have become bored,
with her meekness, what is she a saint, i mean, her lack of wild side was becoming unattractive,
im gald she is gone, now i can focuse all of my attention on the boys.
kieth

no one questions me about abby, they too know my habbits. i sit with the boys and they seem
like strangers, with no emtion i tell that i love them, i dont really know weather or not they believe
me when i tell them this, i don't even know if i can love, anyone? do they love me, after all of the
things they've seem me do. i must learn to show them that at the veary least, i care for thier well
being. keith has friend that he brings to the house regulerly, for all our sakes i hope he keeps his
mouth shut. i don't think i have the gual to kill agian, with abbys passing i fill i have lost my zeal.
what is to become of me, is spending money the only talent i have. i must find somthing to do
with myself, i guess i could start putting away our parents things, that would be to much like work,
no thanks, but then agian i need to find somthing to do. i rumage through armoni suits and gold
watches, my fathers closet looks like a macys catilog, i dab a little of the dapper gentalmens
colongue on my fingerstips, my mind becomes flooded with thoughts of him as the exspensive
smells draw me away from my chores. i put on one of fathers huge wathches, my wrist so
femanine, it fall right off and on to the floor where it shatters, only reveal more family secerts.
amongusts the shatterd pieces there is a small key, it must have been hidden silently in the back
cover, sense my fathers death i have been searching for the key to his safe, for once my bordem
has rewarded me. in the safe i find an interesting collection of photographs, all the persons in
each photo seem to have meet there end, untimly. with the pictures i find a tape recorder,
immedatly i push play
to whom it conserns, my name is keith william delafantay, and i have traveled the world
on the blood of others, i do not regret my choices, for my family and i have lived well off the
suffering of others. though i stand firm on all that i have done, i know that one day i will pay for
the lives that i have taken. every day i take an account of the deeds that i have done, and i am
unashmed, because i have fed my childern well on lives that i have stolen, and so shall their
childrens, children, feed well, the best way that i know how i have provided, my father and his
father have done so, so that my children will not have to take up the famliy trade. my daughter
she will be lawyer, she has made me a proud father, my sons will grow up strong, these cursid
traits will never enter they'er viens. they will have the opertunity to become great men, unlke their
trecturous forefathers, the trail of blood has ended with me, on this day of august 23, 1982, i have
stolen my last breath, after nine generations of breath takers, the killings are finally over, this
famliy of mine will never want for anything ever agian. my childrens, children, and thier childerns
childern will be free to mutipuly, over, and over, and over and over agian, until the end of time. like
my fathers before me, i have given away my soul, for my name sakes i have done so . keith
william delfantay the nineth.
i have my fathers genes, the only words that come to mind after listening to such a thing.
i never really knew daddy, though i was like him in every way, unlike him, i will embrace my
haratige, i am hunter and better because of it. like everything else, i will keep it to myself. my
brothers, they do not know me, i know now that my love affiar with pain is hereditary, but it is as
much apart me as it is of them. the tape was about 20 plus years old, along with that i found an
arsenal guns, to masculine for my taste, if i was going to carry on my fathers work, i would need
somthing more danity. in the large room sized safe, i found a host of contact numbers, one
stood out more than the rest, it simply stated, herbert handler. in the volt there was also a dozen
clean cell phones that daddy abveously used to make contact with the handler, his name was
herbert, an allias no dout. when made contact with him he gave me a long drawn out speech
about how daddy never wanted this for his childern, i respect my fathers wishes, but i daddys little
girl will not be whole until i clam my brithrite. he told my that my father never missed a mark, that
is work, though illeagal, shuold have been a matter pulbic record, that killing is in my blood, if only
he knew how deep it runs.

the huntess
lucky larry, the name i affectionatly called larry hill, he would be my
seventh kill. the cleint wants it messy, so i used fathers dagger. i did it while standing infront of
the imposeing male, face to to face. his blood sprang free from his body like a teenage boy that
has just decoverd himself. i wore an all black ansomable, and ended it with a pair of six inch
healed glossy red stelettos, they matched perfectly with the circus of blood that paraded around
them. i felt like the sexest best alive, pulses of power flowed through my body like edisons
greatest invention. i am alive, and this poor soul is dead, my will has been forced upon him, for
this perpouse, i was spawn. half a millon the client the paid, for somthing i would have done, free
of charge.