Tainted: Origins of a Psycho

The Secret

The gun fell limp in Victor's hand as he saw the life fade from his partner's beautiful eyes; and he tried to pinch back the tears that threatened to escape. When he met Jordan ten years ago he would have never guessed how strong his feelings would grow for her. There was more to their relationship than the intense lust that burned in their loins. They shared hours of meaningful conversations that Victor could never have with his own wife.

Jordan understood him better than anyone else ever could, and now she was dead. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but she would have made sure he was sent to prison for what he had done to his family.

That was something he could never allow to happen, whether he was in love or not.

Victor planted a small kiss her on her soft lips before allowing her body to fall to the floor, his hands trembling as her blood coursed down his arms. He began pacing around the room while trying to come up with a way to dispose of her body, his mind filled with so much distraught that he didn't even notice his family screaming.

His eyes soon fell on his son and the sadness that festered inside of him shifted to rage. He grabbed Vincent up by his shirt and hoisted him off of the ground. "This is all your fault, you little shit! If you would've stayed quiet like I told you none of this would have happened!" He shoved his son to the floor and forced him to look into Jordan's lifeless eyes. "How will you be able to live with yourself knowing that she is dead because of you!? You little piece of shit!"

Vincent trembled as the blood from her wound soaked into his pants. His muffled screams grew louder until Victor punched him in the face, sending his little body falling backward.

"Shut the fuck up!"  Victor growled, kicking him hard in the stomach. He watched with pleasure as his son wailed in pain, then kneeled down beside him and grabbed a clump of his hair. "You may as well get used to the sight of her dead body, boy, because you're going to help me bury her as soon as the sun sets."

He chuckled when Vincent groaned and shook his head.  There was no reason in the world that he needed to make his son help him, but the thought of seeing him squirm like a scared little mouse helped to ease the pain of his loss. 

His eyes landed on his wife, who was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner.  He placed his hand on her warm face and gave her a smile that would scare even the bravest of souls.  "I want you to listen to me very carefully.  If you breathe one word of this to anyone I will make sure your death is excruciatingly painful.  Do you understand me?" 

She was too paralyzed with fear to answer him, so he backhanded her across the cheek.  "I said do you understand me?!"

Vera nodded her head, then pinched her eyes shut and continued weeping.  She knew better than to push him any further.  

Victor shook his head and turned his attention over to his daughter to find her sitting on her knees with her hands over her eyes, sobbing almost as loudly as her mother.  Placing his hand under her chin, he kneeled down beside her and made her look at him.  "Please don't cry, princess.  You have to be strong for Daddy."

"But the other cops are gonna come looking for her."  She sniffled, "They'll send you to prison if they find out that you were the one who-"

"I promise that's not going to happen, baby."  Victor assured her, using his thumb to wipe away the green snot that oozed from her nose.

"What if Vincent blabs to Grandma? They tell each other everything!"

Victor chuckled and walked back over to his son, yanking him off of the floor and shoving him against the wall. "Tell your sister that she doesn't have to worry about you telling your grandmother about this incident."

When the towel was ripped away from his mouth, Vincent looked at his sister and said, "I s-swear that I am not going to tell Grandma."

Satisfied, Victor nodded his head and untied his family.  They spent the remainder of the afternoon isolated from one another, each of them trying to cope with what happened in their own way. 

Victor sorted through his police paper work, looking for a criminal who he could easily frame for the murder.

Vera drank two bottles of wine and looked through the family photo albums, trying to reminisce on a time when they were happy.

Violet played with her dolls, laughing wildly as she used them to recreate the murder.

And Vincent just lied in his bed and weeped, his mind filled with so much guilt that it made him physically sick to his stomach. 

When the sun faded into darkness his father opened the bedroom door and told him that it was time for the burial. They dragged the corpse out of the house and drove over fifty miles away to a dump sight in the middle of the woods.

Grabbing two shovels from the trunk, they spent three long hours digging a deep hole in the ground. Victor wiped the sweat from his brow with a weary sigh, then he looked over at his son, who was as pale as a ghost.  He shook his head with a frown then grabbed his lifeless partner out of the back seat.

The full moon shone down on them as they hoisted the body into the grave. Vincent was forced to fill the hole while his father stood over him and watched.  There was not a single word spoken between them until the deed was done, then Victor placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and threatened him one more time for good measure.  "You are an accessory to murder, boy, so you better keep your mouth shut if you don't want to rot in a prison cell."

"Yes sir."  Vincent whispered, staring down at the ground with tears in his eyes.  When they returned home, he went into the bedroom and prayed that he would never have to bury another body as long as he lived. 

Unfortunately, that prayer was not answered.