A SISTER FOR HALLOWEEN, CHAPTER 2

*This is an un-edited sneak peak, please read triggers before reading!

2. Baz
I know I shouldn’t enjoy watching her writhe, and struggle for breath at my hands. But I do…I really fucking do. 
I was always such a good kid. I helped mom with the groceries, kept my room clean, and most of all, I never complained.
Cat on the other hand, nothing ever satisfied her. She was a greedy big sister, and I knew better than to be unappreciative of what I was given. 
She threw tantrums and complained about everything. That was probably the reason why our mother left.
“Shhh…shhh…it’s almost over. Don’t fight it…sweet girl. It’s almost over…just hush. This is for the best.”
Her eyes bulged, her mascara smeared down her face, she really looked a mess. It was hard to believe she was splayed on her back for me, open wide and begging me to fuck her only two hours ago. 
She was a very good fuck, I must say. And that was saying a lot…
All, ‘ohh, yes! Baz! You’re so big!’ and shit. I loved every moment.
Most of them fought me, I was too rough…too hard. Bruising their wrists and thighs before it was even close to being over. 
It was too bad she liked to run her mouth so much, I mean, whenever someone reminded me of Cat, I just couldn’t control myself. It wrecked me with miserable insanity. I couldn’t think clearly, and I hated it when I couldn’t think clearly. 
My palms would begin to itch, and my vision would blur. 
Just be quiet…please be silent, I can’t take any more of your whining! And this will feel so good, just let me in.
She started to beg for her life again, through the panties I had tied tightly around her mouth. She was gagging on them now, her hands tied and curled up to her chest as I stuffed her body into the trunk of my car. 
I closed it with a heavy thud, the 1970 Chevelle SS that I fully restored when I was in Highschool hadn’t let me down yet.
The only time Pops paid me any attention was when we were working on a car. Staying up late in the garage that reeked of gasoline and metal, with AC/CD on blast. I hung on his every word, pouring every ounce of advice into my head like a funnel into an empty glass. 
Sometimes he would say things about Cat, and I would get angry, defending her. Pop didn’t start beating us both until we were well into puberty, thankfully. 
The things he was able to stomach without a woman around to help. At least, with Cat. 
If he hits you in the face again, tell the principal. She will find you a good home. I have to run away, or he will kill me. He blames me for everything…for mom leaving, for not helping with the funeral home. I didn’t want any part of that…but you did, Baz. That’s why he likes you.
After Cat died, Pops never hit me again. 
I still blamed her for our broken family, but I also hated her for leaving me behind. We never really had the chance for a happy ending.
The girl in my trunk’s screams were muffled, and I leaned against the passenger side door, lighting a cigarette. I liked hearing them struggle, panic rising into a climactic crescendo. I was in control. 
And I loved being in control. 
Their life in my hands…that was… intoxicating—like a shot of whiskey hitting the back of your throat and warming your belly, instantly numbing your extremities.
“Hey there, Sebastian.” Old man Ralph, who lived next door, stopped for a chat by his trashcan.
“Oh, not too bad, Ralph. Yourself?”
Ralph extended a hand to me, and I shook it, this guy loved to chat about nothing. He was also among the many who pitied me…and watched me.
Mom abandoned her family, a sister long dead and my father... 
Yeah, what a shame.
“Same shit, different day, my friend.” He sighed, opening the top of the can and stuffing a big black bag inside. 
“You are taking the kids out tonight, right?” I grinned.
Men and women were both charmed by my bright smile. If mom’s nagging ever accomplished anything it was these pearly whites and a rigorous dental plan.
Ralph stood with both hands on his hips, his belly hanging over his jeans like a proud pop. His good-old-days far behind him.
“Nah, they’re too old for Trick or Treating. Says it for kids.”
I chuckled, pushing a loose piece of my black hair out of my eye, secretly hoping his old age kept him from hearing the bumps coming from my trunk.
I lived on a dirt road in Killington, a ski-town that was more like a Ghost town during stick season. Call it a po-dunk town in the middle of nowhere, but I called it peaceful.
The few houses that I could see from my driveway were surrounded by woods and darkness, just the way I liked it. 
The jack-o-lanterns looked lonely, mocking their viewers with the promise of candy and cookies if they dared to venture to the door with a knock.
No one ever came here for treating, just tricking. Guess that’s the price you pay for owning ‘White’s Funeral Home.”
“Have a nice night.” I said, flicking my cigarette butt to the ground and sliding into my leather driver’s seat. I revved the gas as Ralph watched me, a glimmer of jealousy in his wrinkled eyes.
I adjusted my rearview mirror as I drove, checking for the rectangular headlights of a town cop or state trooper with nothing better to do. Not that I couldn’t talk my way out of any trouble…I was well known here, and I was well aware that I carried a charming smile in my back pocket, always for the ready.
I veered onto the highway, headed toward the hunting spot Pops and I used to go before sunrise when I was a kid. Before I learned how much more fun girls were to play with.
Tom Petty’s Last dance with Maryjane came through the speakers and I turned it up louder, trying to drown out the dull thumps that came from the back of my car. 
Each time I played with one of these beautiful, yet tragically too talkative girls, I promised myself they would be my last.
I just wish it didn’t feel this itch I couldn’t scratch…and even I knew I was lying to myself in the moment.
“Another girl has gone missing today, with talk about the one similarity between all these cases, calling the victim’s “The Ghosted.”
I laughed with only one side of my mouth, a crooked grin plastered on my face.
That dude with the crooked grin and an incinerator.

​