click here for part I http://wp.me/p2DnTA-gd
When Allan learned the following day of her murder–she had been bound, gagged, and her head held under the bath faucet, drowned as the water gradually became scalding–he decided to pay an unexpected visit to his mother. Gwen wasn’t there when he arrived and he let himself in with his copy of her house key. He thought for sure that must have been an indication that she wasn’t stalking him, since if she was, she’d have known he was coming. However, Allan began to snoop about anyway, mostly for evidence of his suspicions, but a part of him was also hoping to find proof of his misconceptions. No young man would want to learn that his mother was stalking him and viciously murdering any woman he encountered. Unfortunately, this was not the case for Allan. Upon his perusal in her bedroom, he soon discovered in the wardrobe a very perplexing collection. It was an airtight storage container, the contents of which included newspapers, each with the articles of the multiple murders. Also piled within the box were various pieces of cloth and clothing, as well as packaging tape, a box cutter, and other implements known to be of use for the murderer. Allan began to think that it was suspicious as well, upon recollection of the events of the past six weeks or so, that within a day following each death, his mother paid him a visit. In fact, he wondered if she wasn’t on his way currently to see him, and they simply crossed paths.
Allan went to the toilet and dry heaved until his morning coffee came up and he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten anything. Sitting down on the floor in the bathroom, he couldn’t believe what he just learned, confused as to why his mother would take these drastic steps in order to prevent his interaction with other women. Yes, there was the time prior to his involvement with Cara, when he was twenty-three, his mother was thirty-eight; Gwen had made an advance towards him. She was a beautiful woman, his mother, but as such relationships were unnatural, Allan not only rejected her, but he also recoiled with horror at the idea of it. Having been a cruel woman, repulsion at her inappropriate attentions made her more sinister, verbally in most cases. Other times she would publicly reproach him or slap him at the back of the head. She was always slapping him and calling him stupid, demolishing a bit more of his esteem every occasion he spent with her. In retrospect, the denial of her abuses had shrouded him from a truth which would have, in the past, destroyed him. However, as he recognized the absurdity of her behavior, and the sickness of her mind, the epiphany served as a sudden shield, enforcing one clean break from her altogether. It was both an emotional and psychological severance.
Allan waited for her return, pacing around with the newspaper articles in his hands, one after the other. He looked at the pictures of the girls prior to death and thought they were so pretty. What a shame for pretty things to be extinguished.
Gwen arrived then, unaware that Allan was there until she saw one article strewn across the living room floor. She retrieved the article and entered her bedroom to find him with a madness in his eye that instantly triggered her to turn as if to run. It was as though it were a state she was familiar with, a frame of mind that did not surprise her, a psychoses not unusual for Allan. Upon turning, Allan seized her around the throat with his necktie that he had, at some course of his pacing, removed and wrung in his hands specifically for the purpose. Allan wrapped the tie so tightly around her neck, there was not one moment she was able to release a cry for help or even a whimper. Rather, the air was restricted with an immediacy that reflected the power of his wrath. In less than three minutes she was dead. After losing consciousness, Allan squeezed her throat with more ferocity, then swung her body against the wall, in effect breaking her neck.
The loud, odd thump, as well as the few minutes Gwen had disappeared into the bedroom, resulted in the entrance of the two police officers which had come to question her about the most recent murder. They went to Allan’s apartment prior to Gwen’s. Gwen had just arrived home to find them walking up the steps to approach her front door.
The officers saw Gwen’s limp body, her head awkwardly bent to the side with her eyes puffed out, tongue protruding gruesomely from her gaping mouth, and her face swollen and ugly, though it had been pretty in life. Her head was not touching the floor as Allan still gripped the necktie about her throat as the officers entered.
While they arrested him, he shouted over and over again, “No! I was protecting them from her! She’s evil!”
In his prison cell one evening after his sentencing, Allan was awakened by a cold brush of air that was like a frigid breeze cast over his body. Sitting up, he saw her. It was Cara. The phantom was not a delicate, misty white, enchanting spirit. She was ghastly and grey, like factory smoke or like icy, volcanic ash invading Allan’s breath. He choked and shivered, but could not move. The wraith’s form spread out and consumed the cell, enveloping and violating him. The visions of their relationship appeared before him like demon specters mocking him and his denial. Allan didn’t want to remember; following her death he strove to forget. Cara was possessive and jealous, insecure but not fragile. Despite her broken mind, it was steadfast. She despised any women whom Allan interacted with, including his mother. Allan fought to end the trauma which was their relationship. He tried in desperation to leave her; and in spite of his repeated efforts over the course of their latter two years together, she refused to let him go. She followed him, called him, ceaselessly pursued him. Her obsession jeopardized both his employment and his friendships–which he, in effect, severed in order to spare his companions of her mania, and himself of the emasculating embarrassment. Cara abolished his senses, and it was a constant struggle for him to grasp and hold onto his wits, until he resigned his will. It was simpler to keep her in order to avoid the torment resulting from his denying her. The misery of being with her was only slightly less agonizing. At least then he was somewhat without her disapproval.
This phantasm instilled a terror like Allan had never known before. She smiled, a loathsome, proud sneer of a most diabolical nature. Through her eyes the murders flashed before Allan, until the terrifying truth overtook him, throwing him back into convulsions as the reality consumed his body and raped his soul.
Allan saw clearly each and every murder, as if through his own eyes, his own recollection. The horror, the struggle, the victims, the ache of his muscles from the fight and the force, the metallic taste in his mouth from the anxiety and adrenalin of the attacks–all were displayed before him. The memories consumed him and penetrated his mind. Allan convulsed violently until he was half unconscious, exhausted from the nervous shocks running through his body. He could only just lie there, as Cara hovered over him, without saying a word, yet exposing him to her obsession with his life, his body, his mind, his spirit. So wanton, she possessed his very being, and through her control, Allan murdered those women. His mother had believed all along that is was Allan, and though she was inherently vile, she had no intentions of losing her son to prison, so she protected him from being caught. Gwen followed Allan, and endeavored to remove all evidence of his presence and his guilt. Somehow, somewhere, she faltered and the police followed a lead to Allan’s apartment that day he was arrested. It was Allan’s genuine virtue, his honest and guiltless accounts, which initially affirmed his innocence to the police. He was unaware of the crimes he was subjugated to commit.
Allan’s horror at the truth was overwhelmed by the dreadful realization that the one murder he did commit was his own mother’s. Cara had no intentions of eliminating her, since Gwen was enabling the cause as she worked to disguise Allan’s criminality. As well, Gwen could eventually have been the accused and condemned, diverting suspicion of Allan.
The torture within Allan’s mind began to break him, shattering every fragment of self that flailed, reaching to grip onto his sanity. Memories, fears, and illusions swarmed in a frenzy that made him too lame to discern reality. His perception further twisted and deformed. However, none of this was as horrible as Allan’s sudden debilitating awareness. He discerned the implications of his life sentence. Allan knew that for the rest of his days, he would be trapped in the cell with the ghost of Cara, who had no intentions upon leaving him, now that she finally had him all to herself.