Chapter 22
Carl was still searching for Hannah. Not all of the time, there were other things to do. Now the owner of a number of properties, the money from rent was rolling in. Greed was the motivator though. There was always more to be had and that is what occupied much of his time.
The strawberry blond Lucy was kept around for three years. She was only supposed to be a stop gap, but he had grown quite fond of her. She was not strong enough, alas, to fend off his influence and had begun to lose her light. That had meant that she was of no further use to him. Carl had taken her to a hotel and had then left without her. At least he had paid the bill and given her some cash.
The pressure had been building within him as Lucy's effect on him diminished. Carl had driven away from the hotel with dark thoughts and a demon itching to get out. A light on in a house set back off of the road, looked a good place to stop. When a man in his seventies answered a knock on the door, it was apparent that it had been a good choice.
Carl could finally scratch his itch. There was no woman in the house to curb his bloodlust and he felt his demon rising. The euphoria which accompanied the change made him laugh as he mutated into his alter ego. The poor old man who stood in front of him nearly died of shock. Luckily, he didn't, which meant that Carl could take his life by eviscerating him with his sharp claws. Horror, shock and death, this was turning into a good day.
By the time Carl had finished, there was blood spattered up the walls and all over the carpet. A quick wash in the palatial bathroom, gold taps no less, and the gore was rinsed away. Time to move to another place again. Lucy was in his, rear view, mirror and the place they had lived together was now off limits. As usual another home had already been lined up.
The body of the elderly gentleman was not found until three days later. His cleaner had arrived and had got the most horrendous shock when she had let herself into the house. After running outside to be sick, a phone call to the police was made. Sobbing down the line, it took a while before the report could be made.
Since then Carl had acquired more things and had used up more women. A copy of a photograph of Hannah was given to everyone that he had charmed. They were all instructed to call him if they saw her. False reports had seen him heading off to various parts of the country. There was no possibility of ending the search. Hannah would be his again.
A strange thing had happened to him recently. For the first time in his life he had encountered another man like him. It had been a chance meeting as he walked through town. Clothes shopping took up a fair amount of time. Having to burn a lot of outfits, because of the blood, meant that replacements had to be found. Stopping dead, the presence of evil hit him like a hammer.
It was dangerous, but also familiar. The same evil that he had within himself. The result was not a fraternal bond, it was immediate aggression. It had not occurred to him, before, that there would be others of his kind. They must be scattered all around the world. This one was far too close, with hackles up the area was scanned.
Across the road, about twenty yards away, a man of about forty had stopped in his tracks. Their eyes met and an appraisal was made. A slight nod of the head from the stranger before they walked away from each other. There would be no chance of a friendly chat, or an exchange of experiences. Meeting would mean fighting and, inevitably, a death.
Carl avoided places with a large male presence. Sporting events were definitely no-go areas. Thousands of chanting men with too few women to calm him, could lead to him running amok. If he went for a drink he would take in the ambience of the place before deciding whether to stay or not. Sometimes the negative atmosphere fed his demon and then it had to be let loose on his way home.
The thought of Hannah was a constant presence. Every woman that had lived with him since her had been compared and found wanting. They weren't as good or as beautiful or kind as Hannah had been. Carl had not seen her face for many years, but his feelings for her were still strong. A curious mixture of longing and anger.
Thinking of moving again after he had committed another rather gruesome murder, the presence of another demon made up his mind. Carl fancied being by the sea and he thought briefly of the cottage where he had lived with Hannah. That place was full of memories and he didn't want to go there. There was plenty of coast, somewhere further north, maybe.
The newspapers were reporting the latest murder. A, middle aged, woman had been killed in her home. Carl had crept into her house late at night and had stood over her as she slept. It was a tremendous high to see someone so vulnerable and so oblivious about what was to come. This particular scenario was rapidly becoming a favourite.
Killing repeatedly in the same manner was risky. A pattern would make it easier for the police to find clues and link them together. God, if he was imprisoned it would be carnage. All that evil, with no relief, would send the demon into a frenzy. It could solve the problem of overcrowding in prisons.
He started the process of finding a new home in his chosen area. As usual it would entail persuading someone to give him the place and then, if necessary, move the occupier on. This could normally be done by charm alone. It didn't really help Carl settle into a place if the first thing he had to do was kill someone.
His latest girlfriend, he could barely remember her name, would go with him. She was a sweet, plump, dark haired girl who was a very good cook. Some girls he had been with may have had the light, but they were lousy when it came to domestic duties. Hannah had kept a neat home and had made lovely meals too. Carl really missed her.