Defective - A Psychopath's Tale

Chapter 37

Nells

It was later mid afternoon, around 4:00pm when I'd lost my friends. I didn't have clothes with me, my SUV or the supplies for taking care of Fat Prick; which I really wasn't in the mood to do tonight. I had to walk close to a kilometer before I was able to hail a cab. I told the driver to take me to the closest American Auto Rental location; I'd have to rent a car until I was able to pick mine up.

I didn't call Holland or Zandie, but I did text them, telling them I wanted my vehicle, clothes, supplies and anything else I'd left behind; this included Lydia's body. I'd see to a proper burial. I owed that to her. I didn't care how much they objected to this, I'd saved her, I'd burry her. She was my responsibility and since I caused her death...

Lydia was gone. What had I done? She was more than just a girl I saved from death's grasp, more than friend. I felt empty and void inside. What had I done? I should've stopped when she begged me to instead of holding to the code of self penance. A code, that's all it was, it wasn't a law, and even if it was, I'd broken many and far more serious laws over the decades. I held her to it because I wanted her to take penance seriously; I hoped it would curb her hunger. Instead, she paid a high penance, one that I should've paid.

I finished my text with the time and location I would meet them at to retrieve my belongings. The vehicle and clothes I could replace easy enough, it was what I had for Fat Prick I was wanting to retrieve the most. And Lydia. The cabbie dropped me off at the rental lot, I tipped him two shillings.

"Good afternoon, how may I help you today." The clerk behind the rental desk asked.

"I'd like to rent a car, a Studebaker." I told him.

Once I had my car I left the lot and headed to one of my lairs. There I used one of my many disguise kits and made a face for myself. I hadn't removed my Nicholas face that Wanda had known. Now I needed to be Gordon Grove. After I did that, I brought the necessary supplies with to maintain this face and hair should it need fixing. Always be prepared.

I found an upper middle class hotel. After I checked in and had my room keycard, I looked the room over then went out shopping. I returned with some new clothes in a new suitcase along with the toiletry items I'd need. I was missing Lydia, I needed to distract my mind.

I'd go out twat hunting tonight I decided. That's what Holland had said was all I was good for. The girls weren't sluts though; they were nice girls, young and looking for fun times and good memories. That didn't make them a slut.

-_-_-_-_-_

My first stop had been at Punk Place; a trendy cannabis dance club frequented by the more socially elite punk rock crowd. Creamed Iguana was the band there this week, I'd wanted to check them out. The band was acceptable but the crowd wasn't my breed. The place wasn't what I'd call a true punk place, no pun intended. The only person that had actual dyed hair of a non-natural color was the bartender; he had shocking orange hair standing up in spikes. The other downside, maybe tonight it was an upside, not a gothic girl in the place, nor any librarians.

The bartender looked me over when I sat down at the bar as I looked around the place. "What ya having?" He said to me. I stopped my inspection of the club and turned to face him.

"Blue Lightning." I replied. I was feeling depressed. I hoped the kick of this kind bud would improve my spirits.

"How much?" He asked. I held up two fingers indicating two grams. He returned quickly with my order in a small serving dish and a chillum.

"Quarter pence." He stated.

I handed him a pence. "Keep the change." I told him.

He tapped the coin on the bar top with a nod of his head then left for the cash register. Three quarter pence wasn't a huge amount, but all the little tips added up. He was wondering what a dandy like me was doing in a punk lounge; probably thinking I was I.P. from the middle class suit I was wearing.