Devil In A White Dress

Forty-Three

At approximately 6:00, Emma sat on the couch to stare blankly at Todd and Carl who were watching the late episodes of Big Bang Theory. A strange feeling rose within the psychopath. The feeling that was called "happiness". Memories flash blacked indeed. For eleven years, Emma watched House of Cards in a lonely, isolated world of WHITE walls and a WHITE straitjacket.

Now she had "friends" to share laughter with. The feeling of happiness since the deaths of Peter and Willie had been a very scary experience. Peter would normally be the one to doze off during late night movies and Willie would lay his young head comfortably on Emma's lap. When Willie dozed off after the end of the movie, she'd edge Peter to wake up so they could tuck their baby boy in bed and go down on each other on the couch.

Todd and Carl shared their vividly uncanny and profane jokes with Emma, concerning the actors of the show. Emma shared her uncanny jokes which made the two shut their mouths. Amidst all the humor, Emma saw Todd and Carl as the perfect, surrogate "sons". Willie would have loved them as his elder brothers. Jake didn't quite buy the idea of mingling with an amnesiac woman he'd just found half-dead. Emma saw his anxiety rise each second he paced from left to right.

Emma sat on the brown table to help herself to more cans of Schnapps until the urge to write a story came. She grabbed an unused notebook from Elsa's tattered blue schoolbag and a pen that was left on the table full of packets of cigars. Her favorite character came into being. Trish. She recalled the joy of writing one of her most popular novels, The Day the Devil Turned White. Trish was nothing but a blonde, oddball racist and supremist who descended into a world of insanity and murdered everyone of different color.

Trish was a character inspired by Emma's years as a teenager in Tampa, Florida. She remembered how all her friends rendered her as the queer popular girl of East Bay High School. She hated being cheerleader. Especially having to listen to all the fellow girlfriends blubber about their boyfriends. When they talked about cute seniors and teachers, deranged, teenage Emma laughed at them and bought up topics like how decapitating children's heads and eating their arms and legs would be fun. They all thought it was a joke so they laughed with her.

But today there was going to be a new chapter in Trish's journey. The Day the Devil Turned White was one of the gruesome and violent novels she dedicated to her husband and son. Today, Emma decided Trish was going to search for redemption from the killing spree she did years ago. If Emma found a new home and family, then she was going to return to her normal life as a writer. This was going to be a sequel to The Day the Devil Turned White and this part would be titled "The Night The Devil Died".

A smile etched as she scribbled the title on the first page and underlined it. Then she wrote;

"Trish felt sorry for her horrible past sins committed years ago and decided to start a new life in North Yorkshire. She disguises herself as a man and attends a gay bar, believing no one would notice. Then she meets a handsome stand-up comedian named Peter, who tells her she knows her secret and that he is not really gay. Trish falls in love with Peter. They get married and move out of England to raise a child in Romania. But upon their travel, Trish brings a bomb along the flight and commits suicide, murdering sixty passengers along with her.

Reason: Because life sucks and her hatred for the world won't stop. So, Trish had to kill herself in order to stop herself from murdering more people of different race.

That was her draft. She dedicated it to Peter and Willie, but her hands trembled writing those words. There was a surge within her. A memory that followed was of Dr. Cowen sitting down in front of her while she was restrained. Playing doctor like he always did, Cowen insisted Emma stopped fantasizing about Peter and Willie because they were dead and not coming back. After she wrote letters telling her dead husband and son how much she missed them, they were either thrown into the garbage or burnt to crisp.

Pure anger suddenly boiled inside of the psychopath. In despair, Emma tore off the page of her story draft, crumpled it and shoved it in her mouth. She hurled the notebook down to the ground. What was she thinking? How could she ever fantasize about starting a new family? Going back to a normal life of writing graphic violent novels? Sitting here and floundering about with these inconsistent, immature young adult children? Emma Woodburn was no more a writer. She was the Devil in WHITE.

Todd, at approximately 6:10, was in the bathroom secretly powdering his nose in a girlish manner while Carl was drinking more booze near the damaged TV set in the living room. When he wasn't yet intoxicated, Carl raced upstairs to sneak into Elsa's room scanning through her belongings. He believed the WHITE trash hid all the drinks and tried to fool them only until he came across the WHITE purse Emma was found with.

He searched inside and found the revolver.

Emma walked into Jake's room unnoticed, silently watching as he was stacking money into brown paper bags. For a brief moment, she thought he was going out but he was actually planning on leaving the group with his half of the stolen Biker gang money. Where he was going to hide was none of Emma's business and she didn't give a damn about it either.

"Where are you going, Jake?", Emma asked, and the kid hadn't even been startled. He was in a haste.

"Far away from here," was what he uttered out. Some of the cash flew out of the bags when his hand was shivering. Slowly, Emma, in her WHITE sleeveless shirt and panties, grabbed a hammer near the clock and whacked Jake's head with it. Hard. A shower of blood spewed from the back of Jake's head by the massive impact. It was like a large metal had impaled his cranium. A clap of thunder sounded very loud in his ears. Emma bashed Jake's head on that same opened spot. Then third and fourth. Pieces of brain spewed out of Jake's head unto Emma's face.

All that Jake did was gasp in a hideous, massive pain before he fell flat on the floor. Eyes bulged wide and mouth left hang open. Emma smacked his head again. Multiple times until all that was left of Jake's head was a huge bloodied pulp. Emma showed no emotion. No remorse. A ghost, was who she was. A Devil in WHITE. She heard Carl leaving Elsa's room by the time Jake was now a lifeless corpse and she quickly rushed to hide behind the door in wait.

When she found an axe on the top of Jake's wardrobe, Emma grabbed it and held her position. Carl opened the door, alarmed that their uninvited guest had carried a firearm but then he stumbled when he found Jake's dead body and brains splattered. He slowly got up shivering, unable to control the noise coming from his mouth. He turned, and right into his head, the axe was flung by Emma. Carl cried, struggling to balance the weight of the sharp axe dug into his brain, while trying to fight the pain.

His vision was blurred looking at Emma Woodburn smiling her twisted smile as she stared back. His eyes bulged the same way as Jake did. Carl lost his sight, sense of awareness and life line. Still smirking, she left the room in search for Todd, who had just left the bathroom feeling insecure. He searched drastically for any signs of life but slipped on what looked like blood on the floor right where the stairs were. Without any awareness, Emma slashes Todd's head with the hammer and he topples over.

His head twisted horrendously on each staircase step during the fall. Emma watched in full delight and listened to the wonderful sound of bones being cracked violently. By the time Todd finally made it to the last fall, his neck was distorted and eyes bulged out of its sockets. Quickly, Emma knew Elsa was bound to be back at any second and so quickly did what she plotted to do next.

By the time Elsa got back home with a new WHITE attire bought for her lover, she already smelled something cooking.