Page 11 of The Madness Within

Victor Mendez – The Family Man

Victor sat across from me on the courtroom bench, dabbing fake tears with a silk handkerchief.

He even wore the same tie he wore at the funeral.

The bastard.

“Please,” he said, voice trembling just enough to pass. “I didn’t mean to kill her. It was… an accident.”

His wife’s skull was cracked in three places. Her body was stuffed in a suitcase. His seven-year-old son watched it all through a crack in the closet door.

The jury weeped. The judge sighed. The prosecutor fumbled over his notes like he’s the one on trial.

But me?

I won.

Victor walked free.

But not for long.

I didn’t kill out of impulse.

I stalked.

I learned.

I let the rot breathe before I smothered it.

Victor Mendez wasn’t just a case. He was a performance. A father, a husband, a respected architect.

The system choked on his money.

I won him the case.

I did it clean. Elegant. Surgical.

Because I wanted to be close when it ended.

Day One.

I trailed him through his routine, his gym, his office, the rooftop bar where he ordered virgin drinks like a good grieving father. The way he smiled at women, though… always a bit too long. Always the wrong kind of warm.

Day Three.

I memorized the cadence of his steps. The rhythm of his breath. The way he scratched behind his ear when he lied. I sat outside his condo, invisible in the dark, listening as he fucked his new assistant.

Day Five.

I stood in his room while he slept. He never stirred. Vampiric silence is an art, and I painted in it. I left pearls on his nightstand. A replica of the one his wife used to wear. Just to watch the cracks form.

Day Six.

He ran. Of course he did. He felt me getting closer. He switched hotels. Bought a burner phone. Booked a flight. Too late.

He didn’t notice the cab driver was me.

Didn’t notice the airport detour until it was too late.

---