The Keystroke Killer Read online

  3:00 AM

  Red Lettenberg, the Mind’s Eye serial killer who occupied the last cell on the left, the former cell of Charlie Frazier, an inmate who partnered with Pretty Boy Floyd and Bonnie and Clyde. Only six by nine feet, the cell only fit a twin bed, a cockroach infested toilet and a sink. Red lay on his back, knees bent and whistled his favorite Sinatra song, Moon River.

  Milo’s cell was a double bunk beside Red’s. Since his imprisonment, he became rather fond of his mental telepathic conversations while connected to the old man. He learned a great deal from the master serial killer over the last five years. Not only how to kill, but how to choose killing using his physical strength or to choose impelling his mental prowess and fortitude which was the Consortium’s assignment.

  Milo approached his urinal. Your day is close. Milo telepathically sent Red a covert thought as he pissed.

  The telepathic connection merged. They can’t kill me. They don’t know where I put the President’s daughter.

  But I do. You shared it in a vision. Milo tucked himself back into his uniform.

  Red sucked the air out of Milo’s lungs with a single thought. You’ll be a dead man before you ever get to play that card.

  Milo gasped for air.

  Red maintained his control over Milo for a few more seconds.

  That’s why I haven’t played it. Milo took in a deep breath.

  Footsteps and shackles echoed from a long distance. The closer the steps to Milo’s cell, the louder they became. Someone’s getting company. Lettenberg stood and stretched. Maybe a young piece of ass.

  The metal cell door thunderously clanged and scraped against the cement floor.

  Milo focused his attention onto his visitor. A bald guard about the same size as Milo escorted Isaac into the cell. If looks killed, the person who disturbed Milo didn’t stand a chance to live. “Did I give you permission to enter my home?”

  Isaac took this as his only opportunity to mark his territory. “It’s ours now.”

  The guard bent, placed a key into the lock of Isaac’s leg shackles and released his prisoner.

  Milo lunged toward the guard and unlatched the safety to his gun. Two more cell block guards bolted from nowhere and pointed their sniper rifles at Milo’s forehead. Two laser dots rested between his eyes.

  “You boys having a party without me? Lettenberg poked his nose through the cell bars.

  Milo stepped into the middle of the cell as he motioned surrender by waving his black rag.

  The guard removed the wrist shackles from Isaac who wiggled his foot and directed his gaze at Milo. “You're smarter than you look.”

  Milo postured himself like a rooster in a hen house. His stare of challenge permeated the visitor.

  The guard shoved Isaac further into the cell. “You’re having a sleepover.”

  The cell block door closed in the manner it opened. CLANG. The guards remained on alert outside the cell to Milo’s dismay. “You may leave. I won't kill him, yet.”

  Isaac took two steps forward to invade Milo’s space. Face to face and eye to eye like two horned bulls in a standoff, they stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Let’s let them kill themselves.” The guard cocked his head toward the exit of the corridor.

  The other guards took that as their cue and left the convicts alone to battle it out. “May the best man win.”

  Milo taunted Isaac by standing erect, bold and strong. His cold menacing eyes tortured Isaac’s soul. “You played your part well.”

  “Now, your turn to play. I have a message for you. Your escape plan is in motion.”

  “The Consortium sent you? Now, that pisses me off after five years. I expected someone stronger than you.”

  Telepathically connecting to Lettenberg, Milo drew air from Isaac’s lungs. Isaac’s veins popped along his forehead and neck. His eyes bulged and sweat beaded across his face.

  “You were supposed to have killed Dr. Wright.” Milo increased his strangulation prowess onto Isaac. “You failed me.” Milo released his hold and shoved Isaac against the sink using his mental energy.

  Isaac grabbed for his throat and gasped for air.

  Lettenberg didn’t want to stop choking him. He needed to kill again.

  Isaac tried to talk as he leaned against the wall and sank to the floor.

  Milo crept toward Isaac. “Save your strength. You’re going to need it. Do you know what it's like to hold someone as they take their last breath? Oh, it is the most powerful thing. The look of fear in their eyes is wonderous. No amount of begging ever convinces me to stop. I know they see their life flash before their eyes. They see their loved ones for the last time. Sometimes, they try to call out for God. You believe in God? It doesn't matter. God can't help you now.”

  Isaac’s eyes remained wide opened. His heart beat slowed.

  Milo stepped backward. “You look scared. I've seen that same look time and time again. I like to catch them by surprise. Then wait until they’re sleeping. They always look so peaceful. That's when it happens.”

  Milo took a deep breath, squatted eye level to Isaac and fixed his eyes on him. “I'll feel their body go limp. Their eyes roll back into their head. I'll lick the sweat as it rolls down their cheek.”

  Milo stood and reflected. He looked in his own soul as if he searched for answers. “I like the taste of salt almost as much as I like the taste of blood. Don't worry. The light-headedness doesn't last long. I'll tell you what. I'll do you a favor and make yours quick. But not so quick I can't savor our moment.”

  Milo’s breath increased in heaviness as if close to ejaculation with a commiserating grin. The thought of a lifeless dead body excited him and Red. “Have you ever felt like this before?”

  Isaac inhaled and exhaled. He still does not have complete control of his breath.

  “I'll take that as a no.” Milo crept to the cell door. He turned and lunged toward Isaac. “Boo!”

  Isaac jumped backward startled.

  Amused to see such a gangster become a coward by using a simple Halloween scare tactic, Milo plopped onto the side of the lower bunk and fixated rebuked on Isaac who remained on the floor unable to move as if a magnetic force kept him in place.

  After a few moments, Milo continued his tirade. “No one understands me. Why don't you get it? I thirst for this feeling. Of all people, I thought you'd understand.”

  The prison public announcement blared throughout the cell block. “Lights out.” The lights clicked off.

  Milo smirked and winked at his visitor. “It's time for you to sleep.”

  Red whistled Moon River as he let go of his hold on Isaac.

  The metal cell door clanged again. Milo’s look-a-like guard stood in the shadows. “It’s time.”

  Milo nodded, stood and removed his red prison uniform as the guard removed his. They switched places.

  What’s the first thing you will do when you make your run? Red visualized Milo’s first kill.

  Contact you when I track down the Sorority serial killer and kill him. No one copies me. First, I’ll get me a piece of ass.

  Think of me when you do both. I’m in a dry spell.

  Milo left the cell. I’ll connect to you soon old friend. Thanks for the lessons.

  ***

  Matthew thrashed in his bed. He stretched his arms toward the lamp and switched it on. His dream, a distant memory faded. He grasped the bottle of water from the nightstand and took a swig.

  “I’m alive, find me.” Livia’s voice faltered.

  He surveyed the room.

  Barely audible, Livia spoke to him again. “I’m here.”

  Matthew shivered as he looked at the closed window and rubbed his eyes. “That was some dream.” He reflected on his nightmare. “Damn it, Milo! Why did you kill her?”

  ***

  Milo’s best route to Kenner included escaping through the swamps and hitchhiking Interstate 55. Once out of the swamps, he walked several miles along a railroad track. In the distance, he he
ard the roar of the train headed his way and the train’s whistle blow. I haven’t played in a long, long time. He positioned himself in the middle of the track and stretched his arms toward the sky as if he were Moses parting the Red Sea. He held his position.

  The train barreled from around the bend as Milo targeted his telekinesis prowess on the locomotive. The train’s whistle blew three times. He jerked his head to the left. The train derailed, turned on its side and exploded. Milo brushed his hands twice. “I still got it.”

  Milo jetted a grin of wickedness as he strolled in the middle of the tracks toward the interstate. The heat from the burning train felt victorious against his back.

  Thirty minutes later, a trucker pulled over and rolled down the window. “I’m heading for Nawlins, if you want to come along.”

  “You must be Ray from Ray’s Delivery and Transfer?” Milo climbed into the cab.

  “They call me Mr. Bill in these parts. Ray is my last name.”

  “Thanks man.” Milo slammed the cab’s door. “You can drop me off in Kenner.” He recognized his luck that Mr. Bill, a nice silver haired truck driver who looked like Don Knotts pulled over and offered a ride. The urge to kill him rampaged inside, for Red; but he used restraint preferring co-eds. “Do you mind if I have one of those Tic Tacs?”

  “You can have them all. I have a dozen more in my bag.”

  Milo grabbed the small container and popped a handful of the breath mints into his mouth. He put the small plastic box in his front pocket.

  Mr. Bill kept his eyes on the road. “My wife and I got married on Friday the thirteenth one cold December afternoon. They all agreed it wouldn’t last. Now look, fifty years later, one son, four daughters, seven grandkids and nine great-grandchildren, I’d say they were all wrong.”

  “How nice for you.”

  “Started out that way, but my oldest son died of prostate cancer and my oldest daughter after beating Hodgkin’s lymphoma cancer was killed when an Amtrak train hit her vehicle. Hell, I’ll die from some freak accident like slipping and hitting my head.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought about dying. That’s something I know a little bit about.” Milo’s excitement increased for the first time since hopping into the cab. “Anything else?” Milo yearned to learn about other deaths.

  “Well, me and the misses love to go camping. Years back, we attended the 2017 Eclipse Symbiosis festival in Oregon. It was our Woodstock. Music lasted all day and night. At the exact moment of the total eclipse, sixty thousand people howled at the moon during the darkness of day. I could feel the electricity in the air as the temperature dropped twenty degrees. It was life changing for us. Have you experienced a life changing event?”

  Milo bored with the small talk looked over at Mr. Bill. “That goes without saying.” He thirsted to smell fresh blood as he remembered his first kill.

  “So, you know what they call a person without arms or legs who plays baseball?”

  “Not another joke, please.”

  “They call him Mat.” Mr. Bill’s joke failed to amuse Milo. “Want to hear my best joke about a blue brick?”

  “Not at all.”

  The chatter and jokes told by Mr. Bill lasted the three-hour ride to Kenner. Milo attempted to ignore them. “Enough!” If he tells me one more joke or another thing about his chihuahuas, wife or kids, I’ll kill him. He licked his lips as if tasting fresh salty blood proud of himself for overcoming the urge to slit Mr. Bill’s throat or to choke him telepathically. I don’t feel like driving.

  “Have I told you about my youngest daughter?”

  “Yes, you have.” I’ve heard it all. “She believes that everyone has a story.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “If I told you, I’d kill you.”

  Mr. Bill frowned and puckered his lips. He took a deep breath. “Do you have any children?”

  “None. Can we be quiet for a while?” Milo leaned his head back onto the headrest, closed his eyes and relaxed to the road noise. I swear, I’ll kill him.

  The truck took Kenner Exit 221 and pulled into a D-Mart parking lot.

  “Thanks for the lift.” Milo jumped from the truck’s cabin.

  “See you on the other side.”

  Milo slammed the door and headed down the main street to a subdivision named University Heights. Although he walked this road numerous times, it never dawned on him the streets indicated myriad university names. How fitting for the Co-Ed serial killer. Nope, had nothing to do with it.

  After walking several blocks, he stopped at the corner of John Hopkins Lane before approaching Morty’s apartment complex. He appreciated Morty would have a piece of ass for him as he always had a full cage in the back shed. It had been five years since Milo screwed a woman and didn’t want to wait another minute to get a piece of pussy. Will she be blonde, a brunette or a redhead? It didn’t matter as he only wanted to get laid. I wonder if she’s already branded? His mouth watered as he thought of smelling skin burning beneath the hot iron. He looked at the shed’s door; the chains long removed.

  Once inside, Milo pushed the exact spot needed on the crossbeam to open the secret lair. He gratefully looked at Cristi bound in Morty’s favorite assumed position, arms chained at her wrists at the eleven and one positions of a clock face and her legs spread eagled chained to metal rings on the floor. Morty with his pants dropped to his ankles held his chained captive by her hips and pumped hard into her as she cried through her duct taped mouth.

  Milo entered the secret sex torture chamber unnoticed. So far so good.

  The captive bore the branding mark on her left shoulder blade. “Damn. I missed it. It won’t be long now before she’s auctioned.”

  “Great fuck.” Morty slobbered as he pulled Cristi’s hips toward him pounding harder into her.

  Cristi whimpered as she tried to harden her heart against the perverted rape. She decided not to make a sound to deny the loathsome deviant joy.

  Milo leaned against the stripper pole and popped several Tic Tacs into his mouth. “Don’t let me disturb you two, I enjoy watching.”

  “Fuck you, Milo! I’m not into spectator sports. You can’t barge in on me like that.”

  “I just did. You finished? It’s been five years since I humped a bitch.” He popped another Tic Tac into his mouth as if he ate popcorn from a movie theater.

  “You can have my sloppy seconds, no worries.” Morty humped Cristi ravenously several more times before he exploded in her. His body shivered like aftershocks from an earthquake. He withdrew his rod and slapped her on the ass which left his hand print. “She’s all yours. The first one is free.” He pulled his pants from around his ankles to his waist and zipped them. “She’s a fine fuck. High market value.”

  Cristi remained motionless; head bowed as tears fell like raindrops. Her cheeks lost their color as her will dwindled.

  Milo approached the girl as he unzipped his pants. He spoke against her skin. “Life is a mere dream, a fleeting shadow on a cloudy day. This too shall pass. Then, you’ll die.”

  Cristi skin turned pale and several electrical fear shocks radiated throughout her body; exactly the way he loved to screw a co-ed.

  He tilted his head to the side and sniffed the air. He leaned against the chained beauty to smell her essence during his foreplay. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t know what hit you.”

  Cristi whimpered; tears streamed. Her heart skipped a beat as fear kidnapped her emotions.

  “Don’t worry little girlie, it shouldn’t hurt.” Milo pinched her ass and smooched the back of her neck. His warm minty breath fanned her skin.

  “You haven’t changed.” Morty sat upon the rusty aluminum chair. “You’ve always loved a long tease.”

  “The more they fear their moment of death, the better fucks they become.”

  Cristi’s skin prickled, her heart pounded, and she barely caught her breath. He’s going to kill me when he’s finished raping me. God, please help me.

  “Hell, l
ook at you. You’ve already been opened up and made ready,” Milo sniffed her hair. “What is that fragrance?”

  You’re an arrogant bastard. Cristi jerked her head for self-preservation.

  Yes, I am. He telepathically received her thoughts.

  Her spine stiffened; her throat tightened. Stay the hell away from me! Her body shook like an earthquake at the top of the Richter scale.

  “Oh, I opened her up all right.” Morty cocked his head, put his hands down his pants and massaged himself. “She’s ripe and juicy as a summer melon.”

  Milo licked Cristi behind her ear and smelled her hair again. He grabbed his thick bratwurst and massaged himself. “I’ve always loved a brunette co-ed. You’re exactly my type. Morty, where are her heels? You know I have to take them.”

  Morty dug through a worn box stuffed with items taken from his sex trafficking victims. He retrieved a pair of black stilettos enhanced by a purple heel and toe. On the heel an engraved black spiderweb accented the shoe. He flung the pair to Milo who caught it as if they were Mardi Gras beads.

  After Milo sniffed Cristi’s right shoe, he exhaled in relief. “Yes, they’re hers.” He knelt and tried to put it on Cristi as he tugged on the short chain around her ankle. He glanced over to Morty. “Loosen these enough so I can put her in high heels before I fuck her.”

  Morty, pissed, frowned as he retrieved the key from his pocket. He loosened the chains by six inches as his hairy plumber’s butt crack flashed Milo.

  Milo knelt and put the heels on Cristi like Prince Charming fitting Cinderella into a glass slipper and absorbed every second of his kind gesture. He stepped back and admired Cristi spread eagled in her high heels. “Much, much better. Those legs, in those heels, say fuck me now. You know how much I love me some fuck me shoes.” He grabbed Cristi hips and positioned her ass in front of him as she fought to move away. He rubbed his cock between her butt cheeks to moisten her crevice and then pounded deep within her. “Now for the introductions.” He humped Cristi at a steady rhythm. “Does she have a name? You know I like to yell their name when I cum.”

  “Milo, meet Cristi Jewell.”

  Milo placed his lips next to her ear. “Cristi.” A warm sensation in his groin increased as he slid in and out of her. He welcomed her tightness over the use of his hand or the anal sex when he raped a fellow inmate. That is what he hated most in prison – not being able to touch, smell or call a woman by her name upon exploding in ecstasy.