53 comments
March, 1995
Michael watched the old man for some minutes before approaching him. He had only seen photos of his uncle before today. Grainy black-and-white images of a legend. The alleged serial killer that the press had dubbed The Ringmaster.
He doesn’t look like a monster, but they never do. In fact, I look a lot like him.
**************
September, 1961
Gabriel Lockwood was interviewed by psychologists, psychiatrists, FBI profilers, and local law enforcement detectives. He was fingerprinted and photographed. He was accused of twelve murders. He never went to trial.
He was, however, declared mentally incapable of independent living and reasonable decision making. Raphael Lockwood, Gabriel’s older brother, made sure of that.
One brother putting another brother away and taking over his fortune was big news back then. Half the nation screamed about the injustice done to a mildly eccentric man by his greedy brother. The other half yelled that Gabriel should be executed because, after all, there was no smoke without fire.
In the end, Gabriel Lockwood was sent to an insane asylum. He faded from the public’s memory as new and more sensational events hit the airwaves and newspapers.
**************
March, 1995
“It’s coffee. A little cinnamon and sugar to mask the poor quality of the coffee at this fine establishment,” Gabriel said, smiling at his nephew.
Michael Lockwood took a proffered seat across from Gabriel, gazing at the old man intently. He gingerly offered his hand, which Gabriel immediately took and firmly grasped.
Damn, he’s still strong as hell.
“I’m pleased to finally meet you. I’m Michael Stanton. Freelance photographer and occasional writer.”
Gabriel smiled and shook his head.
“You told me already, Mike. In your letter.”
“Michael, please. Mike sounds like a kid who has a dirty face and plays with bugs.”
Gabriel laughed, a rich, throaty laugh, surprising Michael with its genuineness.
The old man has a sense of humor. I’m starting to like him.
“So,” Gabriel leaned forward, “what brings you to these environs?
Michael gazed at his uncle, his head cocked slightly to one side. Pale blue eyes gazed back at him, unblinking, and a slight smile played on his uncle’s lips.
“I…I wanted to meet you. Mom and dad would never let me see you when I was younger. They never talked about you, so when I found out I had an uncle, I was intrigued. I started digging around and found all these old newspaper articles about you.”
Gabriel’s smile widened. He chuckled softly and sipped his coffee. He added more cinnamon and sugar to the insulated pot beside him.
“Ah. Yes. And now you want to meet the alleged killer of twelve men.”
“Well…yes. But mainly I wanted to meet my uncle.”
“Hmm. Disappointing. I’d rather be viewed as one of those rare, exotic creatures not often captured. The Ringmaster, in captivity.”
Michael shifted in his seat, swatting at a mosquito.
“Ok, you got me. Yeah, I wanted to see what you looked like. How you acted.”
Gabriel held out his hands to his sides and leaned back.
“As you can see, I’m not foaming at the mouth. I don’t have a crazed look in my eyes. I’m just an old man in a white bathrobe.”
“No,” Michael said, laughing, “I suppose you look normal.”
“But those old newspaper clippings you found told a different story, yes? I killed twelve men and took their wedding rings, and then I would pin a note to them, stating that they died because they were unfaithful to their wives and betrayed their children. The sanctity of marriage had been violated, so they were made to pay for their sins. That sort of stuff.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Alas, I was never convicted. Wasn’t even charged. Still, here I am.”
Gabriel leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table.
“Let’s take a walk. The afternoon is spread out against the sky, smoothed by long fingers.”
Michael looked at his uncle, frowning, and blinking rapidly. Gabriel laughed at his nephew’s reaction to his words.
“Lines stolen from a poet, and slightly paraphrased. Softly spoken lies to describe a truth. Pay no attention to my ramblings, nephew.”
The uncle and nephew walked to the east, following one of the myriad paths that cut through the vast expanses of green lawn. Trees, mainly oak and crepe myrtle, were plentiful, providing shade but also providing pollen and pink blossoms that fluttered gently towards the ground when a breeze kicked up.
“An oilman from Abilene donated this land for the institution. He persuaded the state houses to build this place. Seems he had a daughter that was slightly batty, and he wanted her to have a decent place to live out her years.”
Michael remained silent, intent on listening to what his uncle had to say. He felt a thrill walking beside a man who might be a serial killer.
“That man that’s following us? That’s Harrison. Looks mean, doesn’t he? Big as hell. Arms like oak trees. Sweetest man in the world. Works here to take care of his mother while he works on getting his CPA certification. He hasn’t taken the exams for certification yet. No confidence, though he’s as smart as they come. Black men often feel like they’re unworthy when it comes to academics.”
Michael nodded at Harrison. Harrison didn’t acknowledge him.
“I didn’t start off in this place, my boy. Oh no. I was in a dark, dank, dangerous place for the first twenty years. Smelly. Terrible food. No coffee. People screaming and shouting at all hours of the night. A man couldn’t sleep. I was treated like a criminal. Imagine that.”
Michael looked at his uncle. A smile creased his weathered face.
“But I was deemed not dangerous after a couple of decades, so they put me here, with the nice crazies. As you can see, most are women. Only three men here, and I’m the only one not in a wheelchair. Harrison follows me around. A precaution, I’m told. To keep me safe, they say. I fear they’re lying to me, Michael. But they tell me this with soft voices and gentle tones.”
“Doesn’t it piss you off? I mean, the fact that you’re here instead of enjoying the fortune you made with all your patents. The lies, the abandonment by my mom and dad. All of it.”
Gabriel kept on walking, but he had turned back towards the center of the land.
“No. Not at all, Michael. I have crossed the Rubicon and I can’t go back. That,” Gabriel stopped to face his nephew, “is one vicious patch of water.”
“Uh…what?”
Gabriel sat down on a bench under a live oak, leaning forward, hunched over as if he was weighed down by the enormity of problems in the world. Like God had made him feel like He feels when observing humanity.
“You came here to find out if I killed those twelve men I was accused of killing. I suppose I could tell you, ‘my lips are sealed.’ I won’t do that because you’re my nephew and I’ve taken a liking to you, so I’ll tell you what I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t kill those twelve men. I killed twenty-seven men.”
**************
April, 1995
Gabriel took his time flavoring his coffee. He added a pinch of cinnamon and several spoonfuls of sugar. He tasted the coffee. He added more cinnamon. He tasted the coffee again and nodded.
“Sweetness is easy, but cinnamon is tricky.”
“I see.”
“Thank you for coming on a Sunday. I find Sundays to be the best days for confessions. Especially in the afternoons. I gaze out and watch the people here, watch the orderlies, and observe the natural beauty of the place. I imagine that I’m in the Garden of Eden and God is listening.”
“That’s…interesting.”
“Yes, yes it is, but you don’t think so. You have other things on your mind.”
“The killings.”
“Yes. That. So,” Gabriel leaned forward, “did you bring them?”
Michael dug around in his bag and laid two packs of cigarettes in front of his uncle. Gabriel unwrapped one of the packs and gestured to the orderly standing a few yards away.
“Arnie, I would like to smoke a cigarette, though I know that it’s a slight bending of the rules. If you would be so good as to give me a light, I’ll provide you with thirty-nine cigarettes.”
The orderly looked at Gabriel for a second before producing a lighter. The exchange was made, and the orderly ambled off to the eastern side of the property to smoke.
“That’s Arnie. A slob. He eats fried foods and inhales candy bars. He also cheats on his wife. I considered killing him. He would be my twenty-eighth. My target number.”
“Uh…what?”
Gabriel laughed softly.
“Twenty-eight is a perfect number. All its factors add up to twenty-eight.”
Michael stared at his uncle.
“Let me explain. Six is a perfect number, its factors being one, two, and three, which add up to six. But I couldn’t kill just six men. The next perfect number after twenty-eight is 496. I’d never get that far, so I settled on twenty-eight.”
Michael smiled and shook his head, a slight scoff escaping his lips.
“Well, uncle, I’m sorry you didn’t get to twenty-eight. That must hurt.”
Gabriel looked intently at his nephew.
“Your mother came to visit me last week.”
Michael’s head snapped up.
“What? Really?”
“Oh yes. We had a long conversation about you.”
“But…”
“I guess you know that we were married before she married your dad.”
“Uh…yeah. I always found the family dynamic to be odd.”
“Understatement, thy name is Michael,” Gabriel said, laughing.
“What did…”
“About you, of course. Millicent tells me that you want to be a writer but you don’t write much. You spend your rather generous allowance on partying with friends. You bought a Ferrari and crashed it. Twice.”
“Yeah. Spending the family money. They do too, uncle. Mom and dad, I mean. They drink like fish and pop Vicodin like they’re M&Ms. And they fight all the time. I know dad hits mom, and I know mom has affairs to get back at him.”
“Don’t think I’m angry. It isn’t my money any longer, after all. You should have a good time while you’re young. And don’t worry about your mom and dad. They’re jellyfish, just drifting along until they die.”
“Ugh. Sounds grim.”
“It is, but it isn’t your problem.” Gabriel leaned forward again, staring at his nephew. “Now, did you bring the other thing?”
Michael dug around in his backpack again and produced a manila folder stuffed with newspaper clippings and typed reports.
“You have a fan, uncle.”
Gabriel leafed through the papers before settling them down.
“Tell me, Michael, your thoughts on this copycat killer.”
Michael didn’t take long to answer.
“Ambitious. Wants to outdo the original Ringmaster. Feels anonymous but needs to be heard, to be felt.”
Finally, my savior has arrived, in the form of a nephew I never knew.
“Thank you, Michael. Come back next Sunday with a tape recorder and I’ll tell you everything you want to know about the twenty-seven men I killed. You’ll be famous.”
Michael grinned.
“And you’ll be famous.”
Gabriel smiled softly.
“Yes. As it should be.”
**************
He was called The New Ringmaster. A serial killer reminiscent of the one who struck terror in the community thirty-four years ago. Seven men killed, and their ring fingers cut off. There were no suspects yet, but the police believe him to be a white male, aged 25-35, and living in the area. Further requests for information from the authorities have been denied.
**************
May, 1995
Arnie was sent off with another thirty-nine cigarettes and wouldn’t make an appearance for at least an hour.
“He’ll eat a big bag of Cheetos, drink a couple of Pepsis, then he’ll smoke some more before heading off to the restroom. He’ll come back out and have another couple of cigarettes before making his way back to us.”
Gabriel added cinnamon and sugar to his coffee as he spoke, taking great care with the cinnamon.
“Did you bring it?”
Michael produced a tape recorder with a microphone attachment.
“I haven’t been as forthcoming as I could have been, Michael, but you must accept my terms.”
“Wait…what? You said…”
Gabriel waved away Michael’s protestations.
“I have requirements, Michael. Though,” Gabriel sipped his coffee before resuming, “my requirements are easily met.”
Michael sulked.
“Uncle Gabe…”
“Gabriel. Like the archangel.”
“Uncle Gabriel, you told me…”
“Yes, I’m aware of what I told you. Accept it or leave.”
The steel in Gabriel’s voice was new. And frightening. Michael could now see the killer in the gentle old man.
“Yeah. Whatever. What do you want?”
Gabriel sipped his coffee, frowned, and added more cinnamon.
“Just this. The newspapers say that seven men have been killed so far. I say there are more. If you can tell me why I think that, then I’ll be as forthcoming as you please.”
Michael looked around the area.
“Arnie is gone. No one is within thirty yards of us, Michael. Speak freely.”
Michael nodded. He smiled at his uncle.
“That’s easy. There are more, of course. But other men have been killed and aren’t missing their ring fingers because the killer can get the rings off their fingers easily. The ones missing their ring fingers are fat, and the killer couldn’t work the rings off their fingers. He had to cut them off.”
Gabriel laughed loudly, clapping his hands.
“Oh, excellent! You are a gift from God, my boy. And now,” Gabriel leaned forward, smiling brightly, “I’ll tell you everything. Turn on the recorder.”
**************
Gabriel told him everything, in great detail. Michael was amazed at what he heard.
**************
Michael nodded his head slowly, his aspect thoughtful and serene.
“Put the recorder away. I have something else to tell you.”
Michael did as he was instructed. Gabriel poured himself another cup of coffee and meticulously flavored it.
“The thing is, I could have hidden the rings better. I’m surprised no one has found them. I suppose that I’m not the flavor of the week any longer, so no one cares to look for the rings now.”
“Really? I think you were clever to hide them in the gazebo decorations.”
“No. I have a better hiding place. And I’ll tell you what I should have done, but keep it to yourself. Just our little secret, you understand. And it means nothing now. After all, I didn’t use this excellent hiding place, so the point is moot, yes?”
“Yes. But I’d love to know where you think is better.”
Gabriel leaned forward and started whispering to his nephew. After he finished, his nephew leaned back and nodded.
“Impressive. Brilliant, really. No one looks in trees.”
You have no idea how brilliant it is. Yet.
**************
The bombshell dropped three days later. Michael delivered the taped confession to the FBI. The rings were found. Gabriel gave them a full confession. A trial date was set. Gabriel Lockwood was going to pay for his crimes.
**************
June, 1995
“Don’t worry. You worry too much. Not good for the soul, or your health.”
The attorney stared at Gabriel like he had a cucumber growing out of his head.
“Mr. Lockwood…”
“This will all be settled in a few minutes. You’ll get an astounding amount of publicity and I’ll get what I want. Win-win. Say, could you scare me up some cinnamon and sugar? The coffee in here is the real crime.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a team of FBI profilers. They came in and sat down. No one smiled except Gabriel.
“Mr. Lockwood, it’s been thirty days. You promised us that you could give us the New Ringmaster in exchange for a return to the institution you were in.”
Gabriel looked at their faces. No one appeared to be optimistic.
“There’s an oak tree about thirty yards from my old bedroom at the estate. You climb up that tree about twelve feet or so. Use a ladder. Safety first, my friends. On the top part of those branches will be the rings you’re looking for. Inlaid in the wood.”
The team of profilers looked at each other and frowned slightly.
“What are you telling us?”
“The New Ringmaster is my nephew. Michael Lockwood. Now, I understand that there was a recent victim found, just this morning.”
“Well…yes.”
“He’ll be preparing the inlay tonight, right before dusk.”
“We’ll observe him, see if that happens. If it does, we’ll take you back to your old institute. If not…”
“If not, then I’ll go to trial.”
**************
July, 1995
“How did you know?”
Harrison sat across from Gabriel, watching him add cinnamon and sugar to his coffee. Gabriel tested the coffee, nodded approvingly, and smiled at Harrison.
“Socratic dialogue. Thin-slicing facial expressions and body language. I told the FBI profilers all this and they just looked at me like I’m crazy. You know, Harrison, they really need to up their game.”
“But you really are crazy. The state of Texas says so.”
“True enough, my friend, but I did help them capture a killer.”
“Your nephew.”
“The boy wanted to break my record. I couldn’t have that. Besides, he rounded out my number of victims rather nicely. Twenty-eight. And I didn’t even have to kill him.”
Harrison shook his head.
“Crazy.”
“According to the state of Texas.”
“I still don’t know how you knew.”
Monsters know other monsters. Michael should have known that.
Gabriel added more cinnamon to his coffee and sipped it.
Perfect.
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53 comments
Delbert, Some shades of Clarice and Dr. Hannibal Lechter in this one. Talk about keeping it all in the family. This was chilling and clever. What a way for a serial killer to make his quota. Well done!
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Thanks so much, Chris, for the praise and the comments. Yes! Hannibal Lecter, absolutely. He was definitely a model for Gabriel. Charming and intelligent, but brutal nonetheless. And, like Lecter, he could manipulate. Making his quota was everything to him. Again, thank you, my friend. I always appreciate Chris Campbell comments. Cheers! BTW, one of my good friends is named Chris Campbell. He's a math teacher and guitarist extraordinaire. Small world, yes?
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It is, indeed. How coincidental that you used the term "Small World." The musical rendition of that saying features in my story this week called, The Baby Shark killer.
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LOL I'm looking forward to it, as always. Cheers, mate!
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I love the use of perfect numbers. It's all just a math problem to him. Chilling.
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Thank you very much, Ellen. I'm pleased that you found my MC chilling. Everything, to Gabriel, is something less. People are numbers. His nephew is a pawn. His ex-wife is a reason to kill. Yeah, chilling indeed. Again, thank you. I see you have a tale up on the site, and I'm looking forward to reading it. Cheers!
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Delbert, When are you going to write a novel like this short story? I’d love to be the first to read and review it. This is my favourite genre when it comes to my reading/reviewing work…perhaps because I’m incapable of writing fiction like this and so admire those who can. And boy, Delbert, you sure CAN! Wonderful writing in every way i.e. plot, characters, style…ummm…delicious blend of cinnamon sugar coffee.
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Wow, thank you so very much for the praise, Viga. I really appreciate it. I do have a novel in the works, and, yes, it's about a serial killer. That should make you happy, yes? She kills serial killers that prey on women (which most serial killers tend to do). Her only friend is an ex-Mossad agent, and they're friends because she killed his wife's murderers. Her only other semi-constant contact is with her old and slightly batty next-door neighbor. The old woman drives the serial killer crazy, but she becomes, slowly and surely, attached to...
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I will definitely be interested in reading that Delbert. My kind of novel all the way. When the time comes and you’re looking for reviews, hit me up for the links to the sites for whom I review. Yes, there are fees, but the sites have to pay us reviewers and you get solid reviews in return. Also, re editing as you go, ever tried Stephen King’s method? Write it all, put it in a drawer, then take it out so the real writing can begin.😂
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Wow. Very interesting. I always love stories with serial killers, this one is no exception. I think it's especially interesting because Gabriel has no remorse. I mean, he killed 27 people, and tried to get his nephew arrested as well, and he just sits there drinking coffee?! Very nice touch. Do you think homicidal tendency runs in families? Is it hereditary? Interesting. Also interesting is that this is the first story for this prompt that I've read that is a crime story. Doesn't 'my lips are sealed' convey the crime genre?
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Thank you, Zatoichi, for the kind words. I really appreciate this. And - LOL - yes, I think that 'my lips are sealed' is perfect for a crime story. Surprising, I agree, that not many are crime stories. Weird, yes? I personally do not think that serial killers are born. Behaviorists will insist that serial killers are made. I agree, but i thought it would be interesting to have a serial killer family. I wanted Gabriel to stand out as particularly evil by getting his nephew arrested for serial murders. BTW, I'm a big Agatha Christie fan as ...
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Mine this week was a crime story too lol. The prompt immediately made me think darker for some reason. I think your take on it is way better though! 😅
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Thanks so much, J.D. I really appreciate the kind words. Now I'm gonna go look up your tale and give a squint. Cheers, my friend.
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Sounds good. I appreciate you giving it a read! Cheers.
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Very fun and bone-chilling story, really enjoyed reading it. Its flows smoothly, and drives you deep into both twisted characters!
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Hi Delbert Really enjoyable setting (if such a place can be seen like that) and a lightness of touch. Gabriel is an interesting character, almost personable, until he reveals his true nature. He’s clearly very proud of his killings and fascinated by ‘perfect’ numbers. A clever man who picks up his nephew’s vanity and sets him up good and proper. After all, in his warped mind, he was the forerunner to these gory crimes. As the uncle points out: a monster knows another monster. I liked the twist in the tale. It played out well.
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Thank you very much, Helen, for the praise and the analysis. I appreciate it. I thought of Hannibal Lecter a bit as a model for Gabriel. Intelligent, and charming when he want to be. At any rate, this is one dysfunctional family, yes? Again, thank you, my friend. Cheers!
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There’s a bit of Hannibal there, for sure. One of my favourite characters on screen and in the novel. What I call a “forerunner.” Yes, a dysfunctional family and everything that stems from it.
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The family dynamic was a little thread running underneath the tale. As a former teacher, I could tell you a lot about the parents of most of my students, with eerie accuracy. It's unsettling how much damage some parents do, but it's heartwarming to witness how much some parents do to "construct" a great kid.
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Yes, an experienced teacher would know a great deal about parents, possibly even visualise what they’d be like before meeting them. When it comes to understanding people, I believe experience (combined with open-mindedness) makes a person more able to predict certain events before they actually happen, without necessarily being psychic. A combination of instinct and experience. It must be rewarding to see the construction of a great kid who turns into a valuable human being, as well as sometimes being able to help a child from a broken b...
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Del, this story is excellent. I wasn't prepared to see the nephew as the next serial killer, but you set us up for that from the beginning. Having read all of your stories posted now I see your twists and expect them to be awesome - you surely didn't disappoint. Nice job. Thanks for the good read. LF6
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Thank you so much, Lily. I'm so pleased that you like the twists in my tales. That makes me feel good, my friend. Oh that nephew! Well, I did hint at the New Ringmaster, right? Gotta keep it in the family, especially one as dysfunctional as this one. LOL Again, thank you, my friend. I always love a Lily comment. Cheers!
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That twist, I nearly cried out No when I read it! But when I look back… it’s all there. Superb writing, with excellent sense of pace. You have strung the reader along, setting out clues that are easily missed, yet they’re in plain sight. Masterful! Well done and best of luck in the competition this week!
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Thank you very much, Michelle, for the praise. I'm so pleased that the tale struck you as I intended. Put the clues in there, but make them innocuous enough that the reader is still surprised at the twist. I'm also pleased that you liked the pacing. I made it slow at the beginning and I speeded it up towards the end, trying to give the reader a sense of accelerating action. Cormac McCarthy is a master of slow pacing and then, bam!, hitting the reader with something quite unexpected. Again, thank you so much for the comments, my friend. Ch...
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Enjoyable twist - old age and treachery, and all that :) Michael was undone by vanity and pride, and Gabriel almost was as well. Gabriel risked everything to have everything - he wanted the world to know he did it, but he didn't want to actually pay the price, and instead to remain in his comfortable "retirement". And he wanted to reach his target. Maybe he wouldn't have even cared if not for the fact that Michael was trying to one-up him. Either way, he set the ball in motion, and if he didn't deliver the new killer, he would have lost al...
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Thank you so much for the praise and the excellent (as always) analysis. Yes, the family dynamic poisoned everyone - even the nephew. Gabriel and Michael (archangel names) vie for supremacy. Monsters recognize other monsters pretty quickly, and that was Michael's undoing. He never saw himself as a victim. What serial killer does? Again, thank you, my friend. You always give me something to ponder. Cheers!
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This is my kind of story, Del - it's so direct and unforgiving and monstrous. How come I care so much about these despicable people, the man in the bathrobe? I think there's something inherently human - not saying redeeming or acceptable - about damaged property that a lot of people wind up being through circumstances not necessarily of their own making, just saying F... it, this is what I am, have become and if I'm going down this path I'm going to make it all mine. The ringmaster aspect tells you all you need to know about some pretty...
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All I can say, my good and dear friend, is that a lot of what is good about this tale is due to you. Your beta comments and suggestions led me to a better way to tell the tale. As always, your insights make me look so much better, and I thank you. Gabriel is, in part, inspired by Hannibal Lecter, at least in personality. Urbane, intelligent, and devious as hell. But, I didn't want him to he Hannibal; I wanted him to be unique. Again, thank you, Susan. You're a jewel and a class act, my friend. Cheers!
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Holy mother of plot twist. I got to that penultimate June 1995 section, and when the big reveal happened, I'm sure my expression looked something like this: 👀😱😬(in that order). Yeah, didn't see that coming at all. And yet, reading it back now, there are a bunch of clues that signal the twist (I mean, it's even there in the opening section with the last italicized sentence). Some of the things I liked here: The cinnamon motif. Made for a very satisfying last line of the story. The symbolism of the coffee finally being just 'right' as a paral...
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Thank you very much, Zack. As always, I appreciate your expert analysis and your take on the tale. My aim was to string the reader along, with just enough intrigue to get to the final reveal. Yes, I left some hints, and I wanted them to be missed (sort of) so that readers like you would go back and see the clues. You and I have the same favorite paragraph. Thanks for appreciating it, my friend. As always, thank you for your stellar analysis and wonderful comments, my friend. They mean a lot to me. Cheers!
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Monstrous!☕☕☕
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Indeed, Mary. Monstrous times two! LOL Thank you, my friend. Cheers!
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Hi Delbert, Oh, a historical mystery! And one that I absolutely devoured I have to confess that I did not see that was coming! And that made it all the more rewarding. I appreciate the way that this story was formatted because each little piece of the puzzle felt like a new discovery to me as a reader. I didn’t even really catch onto the idea that something might not be perfectly accurate in our narrator. Your title was wonderfully done and I like that you incorporated it into the piece. Nice work!!
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Thank you very much for the kind words and the insights, Amanda. I really liked writing this one because I - for once - knew exactly where I was going with it. The bit-by-bit reveals and the unreliable narrator are shamelessly stolen from Agatha Christie. The Queen of Mystery is an inspiration. Again, thanks for the praise, my friend. You always seem to get my tales. Cheers!
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This line describes this story! : “Lines stolen from a poet, and slightly paraphrased. Softly spoken lies to describe a truth." I appreciate the cinnamon references Good one!
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Thanks so much, Marty. I appreciate the kind words, my friend. Isn't that what we do? Steal ideas and make them into our visions? We make up tales to try to find a deeper truth about ourselves. I'm pleased that you liked that line; it is one of my favorites. Cheers!
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I really enjoyed this. Very good main character (Gabriel). Brilliant dialogue that really captured the relaxed psychopath vibe perfectly. I think I picked that Michael would be the copycat, but I loved the way Gabriel set him up. Good job
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Thank you very much, Chris. I appreciate the praise, truly. I'm pleased that you liked the dialogue; I've been working on writing better dialogue, so I'm glad it's showing in my writings. Cheers!
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'Monsters know other monsters.' Do they now? It's an interesting supposition. I think you have nailed the essence of the psychopath. Intelligent, observant, keen acting skills, and a complete lack of empathy, even for family. Very good story, excellent writing and dialogue.
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Thanks so much, Ken. I appreciate the kind words, truly. Yeah, monsters know other monsters. In fiction, Hannibal Lecter helped Clarice Starling capture a serial killer. In real life, Ted Bundy provided a psychological profile of a serial killer to the F.B.I. His profile was, they admitted, much better than theirs. Again, thank you, my friend. I appreciate your comments and insights. Cheers!
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There's something about the aloof, casual tone of Gabriel that makes him likeable. Its hard to make a serial killer seem charming without using sympathetic reasonings or back story. Great job with the dialogue and the quirks!
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Thank you very much for the praise, Leah. I truly appreciate your insights into my little tale. Hannibal Lecter was a model for Gabriel. Charming and intelligent and very manipulative. I'm pleased that you found Gabriel likeable; that's what I was striving for. :) I couldn't put a lot of detail about Gabriel's killings in the tale, of course, for that would have taken away from his charming demeanor. Having him in a bathrobe also added to his lack of intimidation. He was, however, evil through and through. He had a dark agenda and he carr...
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Hi Del, Great story. Raphael stitched him up to get his hands on the cash, but was he also protecting him in a weird, corrupted, elitist family sort of way by making sure he couldn't stand trial? Would they have also harboured the young super rich Ferrari-crasher? The rest of the macabre, debauched family are really interesting, even though they're hardly in it! Nice work.
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Thanks so much for the kind words and the analysis, Chris. I appreciate it. You make some intriguing points. I agree that the brother did Gabriel wrong, and I attest that to greed, pure and simple. However, you make an interesting psychological point about protecting Gabriel - and maybe protecting a serial killer son. My man, you have a talent for the twisted. I like it! LOL BTW, the Ray Bradbury quote you have in your bio is one that I have on my desk. I've had it since staring to write short stories for this site. Very cool, Chris. Agai...
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Keep these coming Del. Crime is usually not my thing at all, but your tongue-in-cheek style absolutely is. Ringmaster: oh boy when I got that naming twist was I smiling big time! Your structure run is still going strong I see (I've had a few weeks off writing and reading); I especially applaud your deft deployment of a single or couple of lines here and there. I'm no expert, but crime is such a big popular genre; have you ever considered an anthology? I really think people would buy these...good luck!
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Wow, thanks for the tremendous praise, Rebecca. Truly, I appreciate it. That's an interesting thought, my friend. I never considered myself attuned to the crime genre more than any others, but I have given it some thought (and research) since reading your comments here, and you might know my writing better than I know it myself. Your idea is intriguing, and I will give it some serious consideration since it came from you. Perhaps you're on to something. I'm pleased that you like my structural approach to writing my little tales. I've le...
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Just your well-written, routine family-of-serial-killers story. I liked almost everything about this engaging story BUT why did you give away the plot twist in the first italics? It didn't spoil it, but it wasn't as suspenseful as it could have been. I have to say quite honestly, you have set the bar extremely high with your winning story from last week, so you have a really high hurdle to jump with all your future stories. Just saying.
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Thank you very much, Wally, for the praise and the analysis - which points out something I've been wrestling with. The plot twist that I hint at in the beginning section MIGHT spoil it. I'm still debating on whether or not to put it in another section of the tale. Tuck it away and hide it. I might go back and do that; you make an excellent point, my friend. Ah, the heightened expectations. Yes. No pressure at all to produce more good tales. LOL Thanks again for your kind words and your stellar insight regarding a certain line. I appreciate...
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Ok, Wally. I changed the aforementioned italicized line. I think I still have the mild foreshadowing in there without giving away the twist. What say you, my friend?
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Good Grief! Now the pressure's on me!! How did you do that? I thought we were only supposed to feel the pressure when we write our own stories. But since you asked, I do like it better. It's a good story, either way. From now on, I think I need to keep my trap shut when I write my comments. (sidebar: Is that possible? she askes herself.) What I DO know is this: YOU are the one with the winning story, not me, and no one should ever ever do anything based upon what I say (except for my husband, who should do it unquestioningly and without de...
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LOL Every good husband knows to listen to, and accede to, his wife and her wishes. We may be a dumb gender, but we understand survival. My writing has improved on this site. If you read any of my early tales, you'll see that this is true. I didn't get better by absorbing praise and basking in the light of self-made glory. I got better by paying attention to critiques such as yours. And you know what? You had a valid point. Your critiques mean a lot to me, and if you ever deign to keep your trap shut, you'll be doing me and others a disservi...
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Me blushing. (too tired to figure out which emoji that might be)
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