Page 11 of Night Blind

These were the moments Slow treasured. His father had been his best friend for the majority of his life; even though he had a decent relationship with his cousins, his dad was the go-to guy in his world. Silently he prayed that Jesus still loved him and would bless him and Abigail with a son because he wanted to be able to give his own son all the things his father had given to him. He was a good man because of Mark Neary.

He lived a good life that he was proud to have. There were three additional women in his life who loved him, simply because he showed up and did what a man needed to do. That kind of love, he thought to himself, you can’t buy or force.

****

Cheboygan, Michigan

He believed himself to be a good man and was good to his women. These dolls were his pride and joy. No one else wanted them, and they were castoffs. He rescued the babies, giving them a home with family and purpose. He wasn’t forcing them to love him, or at least he didn’t think so.

“Good morning, my lovelies,” he said to the women in the small rooms where he kept them behind locked doors. “How is everyone on this fine Friday? I have to head out for the weekend, so you have food stores to last until I return. Please make sure to hydrate while I am away. Daddy is going hunting.”

“We don’t want another sister-wife,” Irish said, hoping to stop the reign of madness.

“Yeah, the last one nearly got us all caught, Daddy,” Italy said, coming to the door and holding the bars.

“She is the one I’m hunting,” he said, smiling lasciviously. “I must tell you, ladies, as much as I love you, there is no real fire in the sex. With her, I don’t think my cock has been that hard since I was a kid. She was tight, too. China you are a snug fit, but you never get wet enough for me to really throw a good hump into you. My Chocolate Queen got nice and wet; shit, I’m hard again simply thinking about her. Mexicali, I shall come inside your cell for you to ride me and ease my burden.”

He opened the door, but this time Mexicali punched him in the erection. She wanted to be free of him. She wanted to be out of her cage and living anywhere but with the psycho who called himself her husband. For a year, she’d been held against her will as he tried often to impregnate her to no avail. Not one of the women had conceived.

Mexicali pointed to his penis, scowling and using her hands to symbolize his sex was bad. She used her arms to mimic cradling a child, then pointed at his penis. Again, she used the word bad in sign language. Sign language was her only method of communicating with him since he removed her tongue.

The Collector was furious. He yelled at her, “Keep talking shit to me, and next time it won’t be your tongue I cut out!”

It wasn’t him who was flawed. The unclean, impure women were at fault. And now, his Chocolate Queen had left him for that big, brawny brute of a man. If she were fucking him…he didn’t believe it after having the joy of his cock inside of her making her cum, she would want that brute in her bed. Shenita belonged in his bed, and he planned to find her. He would scour the corners of Indiana until he located his woman and then he had an idea.

He was so caught in his own thoughts, he forgot to lock Mexicali’s door. She too noticed his mistake and gently pulled the door closed, so it would appear he had remembered to secure the entryway. Mexicali moved to the corner of the room, away from the exit, and would wait until he left.

In his office, he pulled out his phone. His first call was to Beauty Kurtzwilde, shocked to find the woman was no more, and had been killed and left for dead in a car near the Gene Snyder Airfield in Falmouth, Kentucky. She’d been stuck with a knife coated in venom from a Costa Rican eyelash viper that was found in her system. The venom would have shut down her organs if she hadn’t exsanguinated first. That was no way to die.

The next call went to the head man himself. As much money as he’d paid over the years for a product, The Big Man could take his personal call. He punched in the number scribbled on a piece of paper in his wallet with no name on it written in ink only visible under a blacklight. The phone rang and a deep voice answered.

“What do you want, you fucking weirdo?”

“I want to find my last doll; she got away from me,” The Collector said.

“You and your doll collecting are coming to an end. Keep what you have, and order no more, and I would advise you to stop hunting for your own personal choices. You’re bringing too much heat,” Michael Kurtzwilde told him.

“I’m not responsi…”

“Shut your freaky little mouth, you twat-licking fool,” Kurtzwilde yelled. “Beauty attempted to fill your last order and it got her dead. Not only did you get my best Captain dead, but it also got me a visit from a Colombian Viper; a nasty fucker who stood on my desk and kicked me in the gotdamned face!”

“I’m a good customer, and I demand…,” The Collector started.

“Demand? Demand? You can demand nothing, and if you call me again, I will personally arrive and end your tit-cutting life, Stanton Rogers,” Kurtzwilde said and ended the call.

The Collector sat quietly. How did Kurtzwilde know he’d cut Shenita’s breasts? Kurtzwilde also knew his given name, whichmeant others did as well. The fingers of his hand intertwined as he leaned back in the seat. His Chocolate Queen was ruining everything. For this, he would find her, bring her home, and punish the bitch every night until she broke. It was his vow. This was his promise and new mission which gave him a pop of energy.

She could know his name, but she never would understand the depths he would dive to bring her back. He would find his Chocolate Queen, and they would be happy together. If he needed to let the others go to make her happy, he would make that sacrifice, but they had seen his face.

The women would need to die.

****

Louisville, Kentucky

Today, Helen went by the college to check out her new school. Like her niece Naomi, she liked school but never had the funds to work on a degree. She would start small and learn as much as she could in the time allotted for her training. The first thing she wanted to do, once she got her school credentials, was to log into the new laptop using the internet. Her first search was for Stanton Rogers.

The computer given to her by The Archangel allowed her access to files and record databases most people didn’t know existed. Entering his name, she pulled deeds, tax records, and more. The Collector didn’t have much in his name.

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