Butcher of the Bayou

Part 17

I woke up in bed, my ears ringing and a consistent pulse in my head. I sit up slowly, trying to remember how I got here. I noticed my feet were covered in mud and my hands stained with blood, but who's?

My heart pounded in my chest as I surveyed the room, the events of the night before still a hazy blur in my mind. The memories came flooding back in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror reflecting past horrors.

Mark.

The cabin.

Than the ritual and all the blood. I look down at my hands. I felt sick.

I stumbled to the window, pulling back the curtains to reveal the faint glow of dawn breaking on the horizon. The light of day brought little solace.

The darkness within me had taken hold, twisting my thoughts and desires into something unrecognizable. I was no longer the innocent girl who had once roamed the bayou with wonder and curiosity.

I heard the knock on the door, the sound pulling me from my thoughts. I ran into the bathroom and furiously scrub my hands and feet, trying to wash away the evidence of what Mark and I had done.

A sense of dread washed over me as I approached the door.

With trembling hands, I reached out and grasped the cold metal handle, hesitating for just a moment before pulling it open.

There he stood, Detective Cooper, his silhouette outlined by the dim light filtering in from the rising sun.

"Fleur," he greeted me, his voice low and grave, carrying a weight that seemed to fill the entire room.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside me. "Detective," I replied.

Stepping aside, I gestured for him to enter, my heart hammering in my chest as I watched him cross the threshold into my home. The air seemed to crackle with tension. He took a seat in the living room, and I sat opposite him in the old rocking chair mother liked to sit in when she would knit.

Instead of the sad feeling that came whenever I thought about her, this time, there was nothing. No lump formed in my throat. No tears to hold back, just nothing.

Detective Cooper cleared his throat, his gaze unwavering as he began to speak. "Fleur, The DNA analysis came back from the bones we discovered and they match that of Eloi."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure as a wave of nausea washed over me. "I-I see," I stammered, my mind racing to respond.

Cooper leaned forward, his eyes drilling into mine. "It's quite a coincidence. Eloi goes missing, and now his remains are found in the bayou. Care to explain your involvement in all this?"

I fought to keep my voice steady despite the panic rising within me. "I've already told you everything I know, Detective. I had nothing to do with Eloi's disappearance."

Cooper's brow furrowed, skepticism evident in his expression. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're hiding something."

I could feel the walls closing around me, the weight of Cooper's suspicion pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it," I insisted, desperation creeping into my voice.

Cooper leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. "Then perhaps you'd be willing to explain why your DNA was found at the scene where Eloi's remains were discovered?"

As Detective Cooper pressed me further, his accusations hanging heavy in the air, panic surged through my veins like wildfire. I could feel the darkness within me stirring, its insidious tendrils coiling around my mind, clouding my thoughts with a maddening frenzy.

The darkness that had been lurking just beneath the surface surged forward, overwhelming me with its insatiable hunger.

I could feel the rage building inside me, hot and pulsating like a raging inferno. Without thinking, I lunged at Detective Cooper, my hands wrapping around his throat with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

His eyes widened in shock, his hands flailing as he fought against my unexpected assault.

We struggled, the room filling with the sound of our labored breaths and the dull thud of furniture crashing to the floor. The darkness within me surged forth, drowning out any shred of humanity that remained as I tightened my grip on Cooper's throat with a savage determination.

His struggles grew weaker by the second, his face turning an alarming shade of purple as the life slowly ebbed from his body. And in that moment, as the last flicker of light faded from his eyes, I felt a surge of exhilaration unlike anything I had ever known.

The darkness within me reveled in the act of violence, relishing the taste of power and control it afforded.

A cruel smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I surveyed the scene before me, the shattered remnants of Cooper's investigation strewn about the room like macabre confetti. In that moment, I felt alive in a way I had never experienced before, the rush of power coursing through my veins like liquid fire.

Gone was any semblance of remorse or guilt, replaced instead by a cold, calculating resolve. The constraints of morality or conscience no longer bound me. I was free to indulge in my darkest desires, to become the predator I was always meant to be. The bayou would become my hunting ground, and I would stalk its murky depths with the cunning of a predator, ready to claim my next victim.