How to Slay a Beast (Book 1)

Chapter 23

"Are those the bombs down there?" I asked, leaning over the edge.

"Yes, I'm going to check that they haven't been disturbed," my mom said, starting down the edge of the river bed.

"Okay, I'll help," Mr. Breeden said, about to follow.

"No, stay, you nearly blew us all up the last time," she said.

"Okay," he said, obediently, stopping.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, looking at him. Funny, as my teacher, I respected and admired him. I liked him. As my dad I hated him.

"Anything," he said.

"Why didn't you want to be a part of our lives? Me and Del. And then, why do this now, if you didn't want to know us?" I asked, "You didn't care."

"No---I cared, I cared a lot---Merry----that's why it's because I cared---I---I just wanted to keep you safe. And I never imagined there would be a greater monster that I would have to save you from. Than myself. And since there is, I'm here. but when there isn't I won't be anymore, because I will always protect you from the worst thing that could happen to you," he said.

"But----what do you mean?" I asked, "You're not bad---you may not be perfect our dad---who we thought was our dad---wasn't perfect either but you're not bad you---"

"I killed my parents. And my older brother," he said, flatly.

"What?" I asked, staring at him.

"When I was nine---yeah, Del's age," he said, "I went from room to room and I cut their throats as they slept, with a razor blade I'd found in the garage. Then as they crawled from their rooms, bleeding out, screaming. I sat down in the kitchen, and ate a tub of ice cream. Then I went for a walk. Because just like you and Del, I wasn't allowed out for walks after dark."

"What---why?" I asked, staring at him, "You must've had a reason."

"Yeah, 'course I did---not a good one---the psychologists found lots of reasons, not good ones----eventually they diagnosed with me schizophrenia , only word they could think of to describe what they thought was wrong with me, threw me in a hospital for the rest of my childhood on a lot of drugs, then let me go. Now I haven't got schizophrenia. I also haven't killed you or your mom---and I don't know what's wrong with me that I did that, and don't feel bad, and would do it again if I had the mind----but I know it's supposed to be wrong. We're supposed to kill the bad people that's how we become heroes---but I didn't, I killed the protagonists---but you can see why I don't think I ought to be around people---children----you. why I really shouldn't be around you."

"Does my mom know?" was all I asked.

"No. At least I don't think so---I suppose she could have looked it up---but I'd like it if you didn't tell her. I don't have much. In fact, she's it," he said.

"Thank you for telling me," I said, quietly.

**

I left Merry and Richard up there to talk for a minute. The bombs looked good, but I took my time adjusting them. I was sure she had questions, for him and me. And I wanted to give them the time alone to get it out. He hadn't had enough time with his daughter, and I knew he loved her. She was just like him, now that I thought about it. Had to have ice cream with everything, just like he did, I never encouraged sweets, but she had to have it. Stubborn as hell just like him, and wild, running off into the woods with a sword.

God that girl. I shook my head. They seemed to have quit talking. I was hungry, Richard was right, as usual I should have eaten. But I'd been hungry for the past few days, stress eating which would do me exactly no good.