He watched enough crime TV to know that all serial killers have a pattern. A type they usually go for, or a method they are fond of, that is how those idiots got caught. Patterns are dangerous, even deadly. It is with those patterns that they get sloppy and careless, it gets too comfortable for them, doesn’t keep them on their toes thinking. Cops of all ranks, city, county, state, hell, even the feds, aren’t as smart as they think they are. They look for those patterns instinctively, like children being taught to look for patterns in school, that’s what makes them stupid from the word “go”. Charlie was all too aware of these patterns, that’s why he hated them, patterns caused people, no matter what the crime, to get caught, and he had no intention or desire to get caught. He was too smart for that, he thought as he took a swig of his beer and remembered his first taste.
In all of his thirty one years, Charlie has only had the guts to prey on animals, ever since that damned dog bit him when he was nineteen and left him scarred for life. He stole the dog and took it into the woods behind his house, far enough so no one would hear the squeals of the bastard animal. He strung the dog up between two trees, stretching all four limbs of the animal between them. Hunting knife in hand, he glared as the dog tried to escape. “You bit the wrong person” he growled. He started carving. Killing the dog too fast was too easy, he needed to see the dog suffer, needed to hear the squeals. Anything less would not quench his thirst. That first taste was intoxicating, like sex for the first time, he knew that it wouldn’t be his last.
The flash of memory brought a smile to Charlie’s face. Animals weren’t cutting it anymore though, he was ready to graduate. People. Just the thought of it made Charlie salivate. He took another swig, lost in his own depraved thoughts. The phone ringing yanked him back to reality.
“Hello”
“What’s up bro? It’s Chris, how ya doin’ man? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Oh I’m doin’ fine, just livin’ life man, ya know?”
Charlie takes another swig.
“I was callin’ to see if you were home, you up for company?”
“Sure man, just you or the wife and kid too?”
“All of us, Ruthie and Brenden have been cooped up in the house all week.”
“Ok, yea, that’s fine. When you comin’?”
This is perfect Charlie thought, they will all come here, and one of them will leave in a body bag.
“We’ll be there in about an hour, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds perfect, see ya’ll then.”
Charlie’s wheels were turning. He took another swig and looked down at his pit bull Brute. “You’re gonna have to die for this one buddy. Sorry about that.”
Brute looked him and wagged his tail, he had no idea. Charlie planned on killing him anyway, but this plan would result in two deaths, even better, and Charlie would look innocent in it all. This was the perfect plan! Charlie fed Brute some fresh raw meat and smacked him around a bit to get him geared up for what he was supposed to do. Chris and his family have visited before without incident, but Charlie has never conditioned Brute before their arrival like this. This is going to be interesting. He knew this kid couldn’t keep his grubby hands off of Brute, after all, he was only five, all Brenden wanted to do was pet the puppy. Perfect.
Charlie heard the knock at the door. His heart raced as he walked toward the door. In the kitchen Brute was snarling wildly. Opening the door, Charlie exclaims, “Hey bro! What’s goin’ on? Long time no see!” He welcomes all three of them inside, breath quickening, he rustles Brenden’s hair, “How you doin’ bud?” he asks. Brenden looks up at him and shrugs with a half smile, “Ok.”
They all sit in the living room, Charlie purposefully not putting cartoons on for Brenden. This will make sure his attention gravitates toward the dog for sure Charlie thought. With Brenden sitting on the floor watching TV, Charlie turns to Rosie and Chris.
“How you guys been? It’s been a while.”
“We’ve been great actually,” Rosie perked up “I’m pregnant!”
Chris sitting next to Rosie, beaming with pride. “Yea man, she’s about four months along.”
“Congratulations guys! Sounds like celebration time.”
Charlie goes into the kitchen and grabs two beers out of the refrigerator, over his shoulder he hollers, “You want anything Rosie?”
“Nah, I’m ok, thanks though.”
He hands a beer to Chris, “Cheers bud!”
“Thanks Charlie, we are hoping for a girl this time.”
All three of them are avid hunters, and hunting season is right around the corner. This is his chance.
“Hey, I know that Rosie can’t go hunting this season, but I got a new rifle I’d like to show you guys. It’s in the back room.”
“No thanks, you guys go. I’ll just sit here with Brenden” Rosie said.
“Awe Rosie, c’mon, I know you’re gonna love this one. Just because you can’t hunt this season, doesn’t mean you can’t admire the beauty of the latest firearm. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”
“Ok, but just for a minute, I don’t want to leave Brenden by himself for too long. Your house isn’t exactly child proof. Brenden, we’ll be back in a minute hon, ok?”
“Yea, ok mommy” Brenden said without turning his head from what was on the TV.
The three of them walked down the long trailer hallway to the back bedroom. Rosie took a seat on the chair in the corner, and Chris sat on the bed. Charlie went over to his gun safe and put in the code to open it.
“This is the latest and greatest of firearms in the hunting world!” Charlie said holding the gun up with pride.
Chris emits a long winded whistle, “That sure is a nice rifle, what kind is it?”
“This is a .223 Varmageddon AR with an eighteen inch stainless steel barrel. This sucker shoots 550 yards!”
Rosie rolls her eyes, “Isn’t that a bit much? You don’t need that much power. It’s nice to look at, but what are you really going to hunt for with that? That much power would blow a rabbit or squirrel to pieces, you wouldn’t get any meat out of an average sized deer with that thing.”
“Well, we have bears in these parts too.” Charlie said trying to justify himself.
From the other room they heard screams and heart stopping growls. Charlie dropped the rifle on the bed, and all three went running to see what was going on. What they walked into was nothing short of gruesome. Brute had Brenden by the throat, blood everywhere. Rosie screamed, “Oh my God! Get that dog off of him!” She pulled her phone out of her purse and started dialing 911 as the guys went racing towards the dog. Every time they advanced toward Brute, the dog shook the boy and backed up. They were going to have to back him into the corner.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“The dog... My son...” Rosie screamed through her gasping sobs.
“Ma’am, you’re going to have to slow down, what exactly is going on?”
“We are at a friend’s house and his dog has my five year old son by the throat and won’t let go! We need help! Please! Hurry!”
“Ok, ma’am, can you tell me the address of where you are?”
Rosie looks around and spots a piece of junk mail on the table. “We are at 231 Pearson Drive in Foulard, please hurry!”
“Ok ma’am, dispatch is on their way. Stay on the phone with me until they get there, has the dog released the child yet?”
“No! He’s still got him! My husband and his friend are trying to get him off now!”
Charlie and Chris finally had them backed into a corner in the living room. Charlie went for Brute’s collar and was bitten. Enraged by the bite, Charlie punched the dog with all he had. Brute yelped and let go. Covered in blood, Charlie dragged the dog to a small closet and locked him in. Chris carried Brenden to the middle of the living room and laid him down.
“They got the dog off, there’s so much blood!” Rosie tells the 911 operator through her sobs.
“Ok, ma’am, I want you to listen carefully. I want you to put pressure on the wound, and check to see if he’s breathing.”
Rosie screams at Chris, “She said to put pressure on the wound and check if he’s breathing”
Charlie ran over to Chris with what towels he could find. There was so much blood. Charlie thought, keep it together, there will be time later to bask in this glory.
Chris pushed the towels onto Brenden’s throat and bent to listen for his breathing.
“Holding pressure, but his breathing is slow and he’s making a gurgling sound!” Chris yelled.
“Oh God...” Rosie said more to herself than the 911 operator.
“Ma’am, are you still with me? The ambulance is on the way.”
“Yea, I’m here, he’s breathing but barely, and there’s a gurgling sound.”
Off in the distance Rosie heard the sirens, “I hear them! They’re coming!”
