1 – House Number Three
The back sliding glass door was left unlocked which made it easy for Dr. Roman to enter the home. He was very careful not to make a sound as he came in, like he had done the two times prior. He wore latex gloves as well, just to be safe. He didn’t want to leave any evidence that he had been there.
As he moved through the den, he heard the television that was on in the other room. From his observations of the dwelling, the adult male in his forties should be watching some type of sporting event for the next hour. The female that is roughly the same age, should be going back and forth between that room and the kitchen periodically. There should also be an elderly man, probably upstairs. He would visit him last.
Dr. Roman slowly crept into the kitchen. He hid beside of the refrigerator. That way, no one would be able to see him until they walked all the way into the kitchen and he could then block their exit back into the living room. He pulled a heavy, claw hammer from his coat and he waited. Time seemed to go by slower than normal. His grip on the hammer became tight. He lifted the hammer up over his head, waiting for the moment to strike.
Even though this should be a very stressful moment for Dr. Roman, his heart did not pound, his breath was not shallow, he did not perspire. He was cold, calm and patient. He wasn’t in a hurry. True, he didn’t like waiting in a strange house. In fact, the longer he was there, the chances of him getting caught increased. He knew that. That was what was going through his head at that moment. Every second that went by, he calculated what the probability was of him getting caught. The math gave him something to do while he waited.
Light footsteps were coming towards him. He deduced that it must be the wife because of the light footsteps. She was six inches shorter than the husband so he brought the hammer down two inches. No need for mess, he thought. As she passed the refrigerator, he brought the hammer down swiftly on her skull, cracking it open and rendering her unconscious. As she fell, he quickly grabbed the empty bowl out of her hand so it wouldn’t fall on the ground, alerting the husband and he pressed his body against hers so she would land bent over the island countertop in the center of the kitchen.
He used the claw side of the hammer to pry her skull apart. Once the opening was big enough for his hand, he reached inside of her head and carefully pulled out the brain, trying to keep it all intact. This brain however, didn’t come out in one piece, some of it got caught on the jagged edge of bone from where the hammer came down. Dr. Roman shook his head in disappointment. Blood started to run down onto the floor so he needed to act quickly. He placed the brain pieces inside his leather satchel.
He moved towards the living room.
“Babe, where’s that beer?” the husband shouted.
Dr. Roman walked into the living room and stood behind the couch. The husband was clueless that he was about to be attacked. Roman judged the distance between himself and the head. He wanted to hit him lighter than the wife in order to get the brain out in one piece but wanted to make sure that the husband would be out cold after one strike. He lifted the hammer up.
The sports team on the television must have done something that would require celebration because the husband shouted joyously and jumped up from his seat, thus, making the calculations that Roman equated useless. The husband did however see a reflection of a man holding up a hammer behind him in the mirror above the fireplace and quickly turned around, looking Roman in the eyes.
Roman hated this and quickly struck him on top of his head. He hated it because he never liked looking into the eyes of the people he killed. It made him feel guilt. Guilt was an emotion that Roman was hoping would disappear eventually but he hasn’t been that lucky. The second reason he hated people facing him when he killed them was because, the forehead is so hard. It takes more than one strike to put someone down from the front unless you can get them right on the coronal suture which was difficult this time because the husband was quite a few inches taller than Roman.
The man went down fairly easy. Roman rolled him back upon the couch so that he was sitting upright on it with his head hanging off the back. He inserted the claw end of the hammer into the wound and opened his skull like a bucket of paint. Blood poured out onto the floor and extracting the brain was quite simple. There was damage to the top of the frontal lobe but it wasn’t horrible.
He placed the brain into his satchel and proceeded up the staircase slowly and quietly. He knew he didn’t have to be as quiet as before due to the fact that the older gentleman on the second story of the home had another television on with a much louder volume. Roman deduced that he was most likely hard of hearing as well. He followed the sound of the television into a bedroom to the right of the staircase. Roman smiled when he saw how simple this one would be.
The man was sitting in a chair about three feet from the television, hunched over to get a closer look or to just hear it better. Roman walked up, right behind the old man and swung the hammer down right below the cerebellum at the base of the skull. This one would be perfectly intact he thought. The old man fell forward but stayed in the chair. This made the extraction very easy for Roman who felt extremely accomplished getting three brains with very minimal effort and almost nothing going wrong.
A door opened downstairs. He heard a voice but couldn’t make it out.
Again, he heard the voice, “Oh Jesus fuck!” a man shouted.
That time, he could make out what was said and knew it was time for him to leave. He placed the third brain into his satchel and took his hammer out again. He slowly walked across the room, careful to not make any creaks in the floor.
“My parents are dead! There is blood everywhere! Help me!” the voice screamed.
Roman knew that sounded like a phone call, probably to 911. He didn’t have much time. He swiftly made his way towards the staircase.
“Grandpa?” the voice yelled.
Heavy footsteps ran up the stairs towards him. Roman froze and came face to face with a young man who looked very frightened. The young man was in shock from what Roman surmised was from seeing his mother and father in pools of blood, brainless and murdered. Roman could tell in his eyes that the man was disconnected.
“Hello there,” Roman said.
“Hi?” the man said.
“Was that a question?” Roman asked.
“No…” the man seemed further gone.
“Is everything all right?” Roman asked sincerely.
“There is something wrong with my folks,” he said.
“Yes. I know. I was just speaking with your grandfather. He is resting now.” Roman said.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Roman said. “I’m a doctor.” Roman smiled.
This seemed to pacify the young man until he saw that Roman’s hands were covered in blood and he was holding a hammer. Something then snapped in the man. He understood that Roman had something to do with his parents deaths. His eyes turned to anger and a hate filled frown graced his lips. He lunged at Roman.
The man tackled Roman and got on top of him. The man punched Roman in mouth and in doing so cut his knuckles on Roman’s teeth. His blood trickled on Roman’s tongue. Roman bit down on the man’s arm, pulling off a chunk. The man screamed and Roman was upset with himself. Roman pushed him up and swung the hammer across the mans face and right into the temple.
He could hear the sirens getting closer. He didn’t have much time. He finished chewing the piece of flesh in his mouth and swallowed. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment but he knew he didn’t have time for pleasure and had to rip that young man’s head part and pull out the brain as quickly as he could.
Once he placed the fourth brain in his bag, he ran down the stairs and saw through the window the police cars pull up, the ambulance wasn’t far behind. Roman counted three officers coming up the driveway with guns drawn. Roman thought fast. He went by the back sliding glass door that he came in through and saw a bookcase close to it. He placed his satchel on the bottom shelf in a unassuming way.
The front door opened.
“Police! Is everyone all right in here?” an officer yelled. They all came in the house and spread out. Two went towards where the husband and wife were. While another came up to Roman who was now laying on the ground.
“We have a body over here!” the officer said that found Roman. He knelt down and looked into Roman’s open eyes. Roman saw that the officer’s badge said Rivera.
“Do you have a pulse?” another officer asked.
Rivera checked Roman’s neck and wrist. “No pulse. He’s ice cold. He’s been here awhile.”
A voice from the other side of the house yelled, “Two more bodies in here. You guys will have to see this to believe it.”
Once the officers went into the other part of the house, Roman grabbed his bag and ran out the back, hopped the fence, got in his car and drove off.