The Circus Freak - and the boy who was afraid of clowns

Thirteenth Chapter

RENATO FELT OBLIGED TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT DAY. He had never killed before, except for the tomcat. He remembered the poor animal that had passively died inside the trap the little boy and his pal had dug. But this would be different. There would be social implications for the woman’s death. It wouldn't be possible to bury Natália in the backyard. Actually, there was no backyard.

Premeditated intentional murder, nobody fools a pretty young lady like this into such a vulnerable position, if they do not have the intention of committing murder. They would examine the corpus delicti and find trace of some substance. The ecstasy, the trouble pill again. Once more, they would take inventory of the facts and witnesses. Being judged by others, being pointed at, and talked about, meant being stressed out and feeling anguished for the threat of losing his freedom.  No, not that! Never being able to go on dates and to parties. In jail, Renato knew that men serve others sexually, attack each other for lame reasons, in defense of their territory. Nobody is afraid to kill there.

It was not fear that he felt, but instinct of preservation.

"What should I do now?" He whispered to himself.

The body was lying outstretched on the bed; Natália's neck seemed broken. Her tongue was out, just like the cat, poor thing, that died to mellow Renato's morbid curiosity. That relieved his need and minimized the asthma whistling.

Her skin turned a blue tone. Her face, a little more ruddy, seemed swollen. Her hands were showing. One arm was inverted, outstretched on the bed. Her hair covered one eye. The other eye remained pressed against the pillowcase which was covered in spit. Natália turned pale while the man wandered around the room.

Renato started to feel euphoric. He smiled, letting himself enjoy the gaiety. Everything seemed to be happening as it was always supposed to. That was natural. He knew it was wrong. "If Leandro finds out, oh God no!" He feared. Renato had gotten a good moral education from Leandro. If that had happened a little earlier... If he just hadn't suffered his mother’s bad influence, maybe the red-haired woman would not have died. Perhaps he would have been married to a nice woman, raised three cute kids... No, not that. That would not have worked. The dead red-haired woman, definitely! That was the right thing! However he didn't really understand why. He had to do it... Kill the red! He had to end the power of the Dragons, he had to follow the orders of the Fairies. Since he was a child, he had the same dreams with White Fairies and with evil clowns. 

"How pretty, my God... She is now as white as light!" He said. He opened her eyes with his fingertips, and he saw the dead girl's huge pupils. "Pretty! Beautiful! Now you are as white as the Fairies!" He laughed out loud, filled with joy for his accomplishment. He then danced under the effects of his pet drug. "Pretty! Too pretty!" He kept repeating. "Now you are Fairy too, the Dragon is dead, now you are a pretty angel!" His hands were on his hair, and the light of dawn started to come through the window. The pale sun of almost six o'clock made Natália's hair color fade to a yellowish tone. 

The gate man had seen him come in early at night. Renato had to leave early too, because if the gate man woke up, he would notice the hot red-haired woman wasn't there.

"Stupid gate man! He will screw me if he can! Yes, he will," he speculated. "He always sleeps in the sentry box, and is paid for it."

Renato turned the girl around, covered her body leaving her face exposed, contemplated her beauty once more, smiled, locked the room's door, and left the apartment. 

He went down the stairs, trying to avoid meeting any of his neighbors in the building. Renato thought someone could say in court that on date such and such they had seen the man leaving the building alone, and that there was no one else in the elevator. Going down the stairs was more discrete.