desisexstories
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STORIES
By LJ
Everyone has a story. You just have to be willing to listen...
When I first saw him, I thought he might be grieving. He stood before a
grave, head bowed, features lost in the bulk of a shapeless topcoat.
Only as I approached did he straighten, turning to face me when I
walked directly up to the nearby grave I was still digging.
There was no grief on that cold, impassive face that caused me to
flinch as I took an involuntary step away from him. His dark eyes were
hard and glittering, but not with tears. His fathomless orbs sparkled
with rage, and if eyes were truly the mirror of the soul, then I was
looking into the very pits of hell.
He adjusted the collar of his dark topcoat, and one side of his thin
lips curled into a slight smile as he looked back at me. The smile did
not touch his eyes. I could not even be sure if truly broke the
impassive plain of his grim features.
"I did not mean to alarm you," he told me with a soft, strangely
sensual voice. "I thought I would be alone at this hour."
I simply nodded, and then he brushed by me without another word.
I turned to watch him go, but he was already lost in the growing fog
that always seemed to shroud the cemetery after the sunsets. He had
made almost no sound in passing, and I could hear nothing but the
crickets singing as I stood listening for a moment. It was almost as if
he had never even been there.
Suppressing an instinctive shudder, I glanced down at the marker he had
been standing over. The large stone was engraved for a family plot. The
date was not even a year old on the left side, but that meant nothing.
The family name told me all I need to know. Anyone who even glanced at
the news would have known that name. The names, actually, of an entire
family.
A young wife and mother, her two children and a close friend had all
died during a terrible murder spree. The man responsible was easily
apprehended, but convicting him was another story. The killer was a
minor, as well as the only son of a wealthy and influential family, his
judicial innocence all but assured since the family had more than
enough green to throw at the supposedly blind justice system.
Two months, and dozens of high-priced lawyers later, and the
misunderstood youth was sentenced to a private clinic for
rehabilitation. Less than a month later, the mad killer was pronounced
well on the road to recovery and was even returned home after he
feigned being properly contrite for the media jury. Which, of course,
was only the beginning.
The outraged husband and father, quite understandably, snapped. He
supposedly destroyed everything he had, quit his job and vanished. Not
five weeks later, the first lawyer for the boy died. Accidentally, it
was said.
Or so it was accepted at the time, until the second and third lawyers
also died. By the time the police caught on, only one of the expensive
attorneys was alive and he disappeared once the motivation for the
killings was leaked to the press. To this day, it is not known if the
man left town voluntarily, or if he had become another victim.
Now, the peculiar thing was, no one had ever found the killer. They
figured they would find him easily enough right from the start without
any real effort. After all, they knew his name, his appearance, his
immediate family. The works. Only he had vanished as thoroughly as that
last trial lawyer. Some thought the husband might have taken his own
life after killing off the legal trash that let his family's murderer
free. I didn't think so.
I knew the killer still lived, just as I knew that the mysterious
avenger simply had his own timetable. As I had pointed out earlier
before the presiding judge drowned in a tragic fishing accident.
Course, no one pays me no mind. I dig graves. What could I know?
Well, I knew men didn't drown wearing life vests. I knew that much. I
also knew why those uniformed clowns couldn't find the grieving husband
that was their only suspect. I knew, just as I knew the prints in the
soft earth before that poor woman's grave were from a woman's shoe.
See, the law was looking for a man. But, if a man were smart enough,
driven enough, then would realize that the last place the law would
look for a vengeful widower would be in a woman's body.
Hell, even I know how easy it can be for a man to pass himself off
these days if he just takes a little time and puts some effort into his
makeover.
I mind the time a friend of mine got fooled by one of them types over
at a local bar with questionable patronage. I never would have been
fooled, of course, but my friend... he was suckered from the start. At
least he was till the crucial moment.
How'd it go?
"None of your business."
Well, that was what my friend told me. I guess that is all right. He
was a friend, and friends help friends. Even help keep secrets from
time to time. Know what I mean?
Ah, anyway, what with all these new medical discoveries, it is
downright astonishing just how girlish a man can become if'n he's got
the will to go that far. You can remake anything. Except for the eyes,
mind you. You could never hide your eyes. Especially the cold, dark
eyes that mirrored all the pain and anger in a tortured soul. Still, a
man that would go that far probably already knew what most of us
wouldn't admit these days.
That being, if a woman... a really pretty woman walked right up to you,
it sure wouldn't be her eyes that you'd be staring at when she made her
move. Nope. Maybe at the end, sure. But not at the start. Course, by
the time a man seen them eyes, it would be too late. Like I 'spect it
will be too late for the psycho-kid and old man. Yep, I figure they'll
go next.
And last.
That's why I'm digging these two graves.
Yeah, I figure he knows I know. Only I don't talk much. Not less'n you
count me talking to all you folks laying around about here. I figure he
knows I feel he had the right to do as he's doing.
Or she, the case being.
I leave the right or wrong of it all up to God. I figure he won't might
much though. Eye for an eye, and all that.
Got to get back to work now. I want to finish up these last two graves,
seeing as I figure they're gonna be needed soon. I want them ready,
since I'm quitting here after I finish filling them. Me and a friend,
well, we plan on taking out to the hills, so to speak. Maybe head out
west someplace. I figure it to be a one-way trip, so I'm just gonna
quit.
Right after I get these last two graves ready. Wouldn't want to let my
new lady friend down.
Nova
- 05.10.2020
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