Unofficial Crimes


Unofficial Crimes


Unofficial Crimes

Stories similar to this that you might like too.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Grandfather,” I said. “You never mentioned her before.”

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at me with the same lazy smile he’d used on my mother when she was alive. It made him look almost like an old man instead of one who looked as though he could be in his mid-thirties.

“She’s not mine,” he replied. He took another sip from his drink and then set it down again without taking any more pleasure in its contents. “But she lives here now so I guess that makes us family by default doesn’t it?”

I nodded to show I understood what he meant but couldn’t bring myself to say anything else about her for fear of sounding rude or disrespectful. She had been kind enough to let me stay with them until this business was finished and there were few people in the world who would have done such a thing.

But if she wasn’t his blood relation… Then why did they act toward each other as though they loved one another? And how come no one ever talked about her except for my grandfather himself?

My father’s death had left my grandparents alone together since neither of their children lived nearby anymore. My grandmother died first after suffering a stroke while cooking dinner two years ago. Her life insurance paid off everything including all the debts we’d incurred over the past ten years.

The house went into foreclosure shortly thereafter leaving only the land behind which my grandfather still owned outright. There was a small cottage built onto the back of the property where my grandfather kept most of his belongings. That was where I slept during my visits home.

The rest of the time I stayed at the local hotel. Since both of my parents’ deaths, I had stopped caring whether or not anyone knew I existed. They weren’t going to miss me anyway. So long as I got to keep coming home once every six months or so I didn’t care either way. I just wanted to get away from everyone and find some peace within myself.

It seemed to take forever for my grandfather to finish his drink. When he finally put it down on the table beside him he leaned forward across the table and stared deeply into my eyes.

“What do you think your father might have told you about me?” he asked softly.

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat and tried to answer but found I couldn’t speak. How much did he tell me? Was there something important that I should remember? Something I needed to know right now?

His lips curled up into a sadistic smile. His grayish blue eyes bored deep into mine as though looking through my soul.

“Didn’t quite work out the way he planned, did it, boy? Didn’t even make it halfway around the world before he met his end in a dark alleyway somewhere between here and Tokyo. Just like your brother. Your father always liked to gamble too much.”

A cold chill ran down my spine despite the heat of the room. I felt strangely numb inside. This was the first time anyone had ever spoken of my father’s death outside of a hospital bed. No one else had known what really happened to him. Not even my mother. Only my grandfather and I had ever heard the story. Yet somehow hearing it again brought my heart racing and my hands shaking.

“How is that possible?” I whispered. “We were supposed to go together! We promised we would!”

“Your father lied to you about a lot of things, boy. And he was very good at it. You’re smarter than he thought you were. Maybe even better. Did he tell you about the job offer he had waiting for him in Japan?”

I shook my head slowly because I didn’t want to hear anymore. I already knew what he was going to say next.

“That’s right. Big promotion and a nice raise. All he had to do was a sign on with a company called Jinshin Corporation. They sent someone over here to recruit him personally. Offer him an easy path to success. Everything he dreamed of. Except he never actually signed the contract.

Instead, he decided to run away with you and your mother instead. He expected me to pay for his mistake. Never realized I wouldn’t. Told me I could kill him if I wanted to. Said he had nothing to hide. As far as he was concerned he’d fulfilled his part of the bargain.

Now he owed me. Wanted me to send you back to Japan along with whatever money he stole from me. But I refused. Had to prove to him that I wasn’t afraid of him. Do you know why? Because I’m not. He told me you were dead. Thought I’d be happy about that.

After all, I lost two sons. But when I saw you standing there alive and well I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. One I intend to correct. Before I die, I’ll see to it that your father pays for what he did. And believe me, he will.”

He stood abruptly and walked over to the window overlooking the backyard. Leaning heavily against the sill he stared out into the darkness beyond. It looked as though his mind was miles away in another place entirely.

“You’ve been gone for almost three years now,” he said quietly. “Not sure how many days that makes it. Time doesn’t mean much to me anymore. Still, I can’t help but wonder what you must look like by this point. What kind of man are you turning out to be? Are you following in your father’s footsteps? Or have you managed to carve your own way through life?”

I listened carefully to his words. Trying to understand them. Realizing they held meaning I hadn’t understood until just then. The realization shocked me. Made me realize exactly who my grandfather truly was. That he carried so much pain inside himself.

How desperately he wanted to feel loved. To be accepted. How he had spent his entire life searching for that acceptance only to find it empty inside.

And yet…he still cared enough to try and reach out to me. Even after everything I’d done. Perhaps he sensed that there was something special about me. Couldn’t let me walk away without trying to save me.

My father never once reached out to me. My grandfather obviously had. Why? Because he believed in me. Believed I had potential. In spite of all my faults. Despite my failures. He trusted me. Cared about me. More than anything else in the world.

“Do you love her, boy?” he asked suddenly. “Is she the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

The question caught me off guard. Stunned me speechless for a moment or two. Then I remembered the truth of the situation. Of course, I loved her. She was the most beautiful creature in the whole world. And I couldn’t imagine spending my life anywhere else. With anyone else.

“Yes,” I answered simply.

There was no hesitation in my voice. No fear. Nothing but complete honesty.

“Good. Good. So am I. I hope you both live long lives filled with happiness and joy. For all our sakes.”

As quickly as he spoke those words his demeanor changed. His eyes hardened. Like thunderclouds ready to burst open at any second.

“But before that happens…”

His tone grew darker. Harder. Colder. And much angrier.

“Before that happens…you’re going to make me very, very angry.”

***

It took us five hours to get home. Five miserable, agonizing, painful hours. Every mile seemed to stretch on forever. Each minute dragged past excruciatingly slow. The closer we got to home the worse I began to feel. Not physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Until finally I was certain I would go insane.

How could I possibly face my family again? How could I ever explain myself to them? To apologize for betraying their trust? To beg forgiveness? To ask them to forgive me?

They might accept my apology. But they probably wouldn’t forget what I’d done. Would always remember how I abandoned them. Left them alone to fend for themselves. Abandoned my wife and son.

What could I possibly say to them to convince them otherwise? Anything I tried to tell them would sound hollow. Unbelievable. Impossible. They’d know I wasn’t telling the truth. Knew I was lying. Lying right to their faces.

So instead of trying to justify me. Instead of trying to defend my actions. I decided not to speak at all. Decided to remain silent until I found some other way to deal with this mess. Some other solutions to put an end to all these problems.

We pulled up outside the house shortly after dark. As soon as I stepped from the car I knew something was wrong. Something felt different. Off. The air reeked of death. Filled with the stench of rotting flesh. The smell is even more foul than usual. It made me gag. Almost vomit.

I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait around. Ran straight inside the front door. Straight toward the bathroom. Where I saw my mother sitting on the floor. Naked. Her skin was covered in blood. Blood soaked through every inch of her body. Everywhere except for one particular area. Right between her legs. Which were completely unharmed. Untouched.

That’s when I realized where all the blood came from. Saw the knife sticking out of her chest. Seeing it caused me to freeze. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Knowing I’d brought this upon myself. Punished me for what I’d done.

I knelt down beside my mother and gently touched her cheek. Tried to comfort her somehow. Tell her it was okay. Everything would be fine now. Just hold on a little longer. Hold on until I could figure out what to do next.

Then I looked into her eyes. Saw the look of shock and confusion. Heard her gasp in horror.

“No!” she screamed. “Please! Don’t kill me like you did your father!”

She started shaking violently. Shaking so hard she fell back against the wall. Slumped over onto the floor. Then slid slowly to the ground. All while clutching her stomach. Fighting to keep herself upright. Trying desperately to stay conscious.

“Oh God, oh God, please don’t take me too,” she begged. “Don’t leave me here all alone.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Tears ran freely from her eyes. Dropped silently to the floor below.

“Mommy?”

A small hand reached out from behind me. Touched my shoulder. Then pulled itself free to point directly in front of us. At the mirror hanging above the sink. My reflection staring back at me.

“Daddy?”

My heart sank. Hurt deep within me. Shattered glass falling from my broken soul.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me anymore,” my daughter said quietly. “And yet…here you are.”

Her words cut deeper than anything else. More viciously. More painfully. Causing me to fall apart entirely. Crying openly because there was nothing left inside me. No strength remaining.

“Why?!” I cried out miserably. “Why?! Why did you have to come back? You’ve ruined everything. Ruined everyone. Damaged my life beyond repair. What will happen to me now? Oh God, Mommy…what about my children? Please tell me what happened to them. Did they survive? Are they safe? Is anyone looking for them?”

I turned away from the mirror. Looked at my wife instead. She still sat naked on the toilet seat. Still bleeding profusely. But alive nonetheless. Alive and well enough to answer any questions I had.

“Yes,” she managed to whisper. “Your kids are both fine. Safe and sound. And no one is looking for them either. Because they’re not missing. They never went anywhere. They just disappeared.”

The room suddenly became very quiet. Very tense. Everyone waited nervously for someone to break the silence first. Waiting anxiously to hear what else my wife would reveal.

But none of us spoke. We waited patiently for her to continue speaking. To explain exactly why she’d lied. Why she hadn’t told me the truth sooner.

“It took me a while to realize who you really were,” she finally admitted. “To understand that you weren’t my husband at all. That you were a monster. Someone evil. Who needed to be stopped before he killed again. Before he murdered another innocent person. Another child.”

She paused momentarily. Gave me time to respond if I wanted to. Time to argue or disagree with her claims. But I remained silent. Not wanting to say anything. Finally able to admit to myself that she was right. This wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t blame myself. Couldn’t punish me further by denying the facts. By refusing to accept the truth.

“When I found out,” she continued. “I tried to warn people. Warn the police. But no one believed me. Even though I had proof. Proof that proved without question who you truly were.”

She lifted her head slightly higher off the floor. Then stared directly into my eyes. Telling me she knew everything. Everything about me. The things I’d done. About the horrible acts, I’d committed.

“How could they believe me?” she asked bitterly. “After everything I’ve been through? After seeing firsthand how dangerous you can be? How violent do you become when you lose control? How much pain do you cause others? Especially those closest to you. Your family. Those you love most dearly. Like your own children.”

She glanced briefly over my shoulder at the mirror. Back to my face once more. Her voice trembled as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

“They didn’t care,” she whispered sadly. “Not even after everything I endured. Not only during the attack but afterward too. When I realized that I wasn’t going to get help. That no one cared enough to save me. Or try to stop him.

He’s such an evil man. So cruel and ruthless. His mind is twisted and warped. Twisted and distorted. Full of hate and anger. Hatred for everyone and everything. Including his own wife and children.”

She looked up at me again. Tears stream freely from her eyes. Clutching her abdomen tightly. As if trying desperately to hold herself together.

“He’s a monster,” she repeated softly. “One of the worst human beings I’ve ever known. A true psychopath. One who needs to be put down like the rabid animal he is. For good this time. Forever.”

The End

Recent Content